Do It Anyway

One of my favorite lines from “Fried Green Tomatoes”—one of my favorite movies—is the line, “She was a lady and a lady always knows when to leave.” I guess, by that standard, I’m not much of a lady, because I’ve never known when to leave. I’ve always stayed too long at the party. The truth is that when I find somewhere that I feel safe and comfortable, I dig in my heels as hard as I can so that I can stay in the safe, comfortable place.

I guess that makes me more of a child—more of a weakling—than a lady.

I don’t think I’m alone here. I think human nature tells us to protect ourselves in any way possible. Only the strong survive, right?

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve felt comfortable, but God has pushed me out of my comfort zone to show me something better.

I was nineteen years old and living with my parents, but moved three hours away to live on my own. Living with my parents was good and comfortable, but living on my own taught me strength, wisdom, independence—and dependence on God.

I was working a minimum wage secretarial job on only a high school diploma and decided to quit and go to college full time to get my degree. The job paid me enough to live—barely—but getting my education opened up a whole new world for me.

I was working a job in my field that was paying me far below poverty level. I was excited that it was in my field, but I was barely existing. Someone I hardly knew called me one day and said, “I don’t know you that well, but I heard about this job and for some reason, thought of you.” Two weeks later, I was working a full-time job with benefits, that paid nearly twice what I was making by working in my field. The one job was good, but the other job made amazing things possible for me.

I was living in a safe, comfortable little house, out in the country with a nearly perfect roommate, a happy dog, and a charmed life. But something was wrong. There was emptiness and a lack of purpose. I tried to ignore it for a while, but then came a day that I couldn’t ignore it. I made the decision to follow God three thousand miles from home. My little house in the country was good, but there’s a renewed purpose and promise in following God where He wants me to go.

I look back at these abbreviated little stories and think, “Man, I make myself sound so brave!” Let me confess: every single one of these events in my life was steeped in pain, saturated in fear, and marked by copious amounts of feet-dragging on my part!

The thing I wish I had known—really known—in each of these circumstances is what my former pastor, Ferrell Hardison says: “Sometimes you have to let go of the ‘good’ to get God’s ‘best.’”

Katie says it this way: “The uncomfortable places, they only get more difficult. But I am learning to remember, before I even get there, that eventually this will be what is best for me, and more important, what is best for His glory.”

I have always loved running around with bare feet. I guess it’s a country girl thing. My Uncle Buddy has been known to say, “Damn, gal! You’s as barefoot as a yard dog!” Because usually, I am.

Unfortunately, being barefooted isn’t very good for me. I’m flat-footed and being barefooted gives me no arch support, which makes my feet hurt after a while. (Sooner, now that I’m older.) I had a wreck several years ago that did major damage to my right foot and so now I have arthritis that is worse when I run around barefooted. But the worst thing of all is that my feet somehow seem to be a magnet for splinters.

When I was a kid, I used to get splinters in my feet all of the time. I would cry and run to my Dad. He would sit me up on the kitchen counter, pull my foot up towards the light, and pick the splinters out with a needle and his pocket knife.

Now, lest you think I’m brave, you should know that the entire time, I was screaming and crying. Even before he would touch me, I would screech and begin wailing. But because my Dad knew that leaving the splinters in there would cause me more pain and possibly infection, he would pick them out anyway.

And here, we’ve reached our point. Sometimes, doing what’s good for you hurts. Do it anyway.

This post is part of a weekly discussion of the book, “Kisses from Katie” that my friend, Jason Stasyszen and I have been co-facilitating. Please feel free to stick around and chat whether you’ve read the book or not. Your thoughts are welcomed here! If you have written a response to this week’s chapter, please feel free to drop by Jason’s site and link it up on the widget! Thanks!