Free At Last! Free At Last?

Free At Last! Free At Last? By Brandi Lynn David When you're stuck in a place that seems to have no exit it's easy to just resign to the walls that surround you. You become accustomed to the routine of going to the same job that makes you unhappy day after day. You stay chained to the same people that stifle your growth and keep you from moving forward. You lock the door to your dreams with a pad lock that has a combination even you don't know. When the Civil War opened the door to free slaves, it seems odd that so many opted to stay right where they were. It wasn't necessarily because they were "comfortable." Certainly that wasn't the case. It was the fear of what happens in that transition between bad and good, unhappy and happy, mediocre and successful, complacency and thriving. How does a person start over from scratch? Can you survive the transition? Today, I was watching a documentary about the last days of WWII. As the Third Reich saw its last days, Jewish prisoners that managed to escape to freedom had a hope, but that was all it was. They wandered directionless through the Central European streets in the striped garb the Nazi's made them wear. If they could find a new beginning, if they could get through starting from nothing-no clothes, no food, no family, then they would have a bright future of mere life ahead. Think way back to the Hebrew slaves in Egypt that headed to the Promised Land. It was the 40 year transition that nearly did them in. In fact, they thought getting to the place of peace and prosperity wasn't worth it, after having to wander and walk for so long. They begged Moses to take them back to Egypt so they could return to slavery. Every time I hear the story, I think about how crazy they were to lose faith while visually, tangibly receiving every bit of what they needed straight from the sky-food, shade, a pillar of light. I don't mean to liken myself to a slave or prisoner in the way these terribly victimized people were. But many, or most, of us are slaves to something. I am speaking about all of us that are in a, "I wish I would have…," stage of life and leave it at that, never forging on to our own peace and prosperity. The work of getting out of the muck and stepping onto higher ground takes a lot of sweat, tears, and totally blinded faith. We stay trapped in careers we never intended to pursue. We stay in relationships that we know aren't healthy, whether it be romantic or just friendships. We dream of financial freedom, but refuse to take the steps necessary. We complain about being 20, 30, 40lbs. overweight, but never put down the Doritos or work up a good sweat. We blame the economy, marriage, children, genetics, race and our parents for our setbacks. But let's face it, even the most successful people living in this economy have marriages that have failed and succeeded, children they've raised, and parents that couldn't spoon feed the opportunities so many have thrown away. So if they can do it, so can you. So can I. I had to decide this year, just like the past several years, whether I wanted to continue running on the hamster wheel of a job that only paid half of what I needed. I liked to call it a ministry, which was fine when there was a double income, but even then it wasn't ultimately what I wanted to do. It's where I got comfortable and settled. So year after year when I saw that contract with a poverty level salary offer, I cringed, thinking, "Well, what else can I possibly do?" There were some perks. Since I couldn't be the stay-at-home mom I dreamed about being, teaching at the school where my child attended was a huge plus. There was health insurance assistance and dental. There were 10 weeks off in the summer. So, even though I wasn't a stay-at-home mom, anytime my child was home, so was I. And, I can't discount the friendships built over the course of time in the small community where I taught. It all sounds good, right? Let's go behind the scenes. Every month I still depended on my parents to help pay the bills. Every morning I was driving 45 minutes to work and an hour home. Because I was always short on funds, I couldn't get ahead to relocate (and honestly, I didn't want to...because I was comfortable in this inconvenient, distant, financial sinkhole of a house). Continuing to work there meant forking out more money in continuing education. And that, in essence, was the push I needed. Would I stay a slave to a career I never really wanted? Making that decision was like going through that break up you know should happen, but why go through the short term pain for the long term gain? That person, that job, or that weight isn't going to just disappear. You have to do something. My favorite quote from P90X guru, Tony Horton, is "just press play." I'm a strong advocate of not just healthy living, but extreme health. I still know what it's like to have no desire to get off the couch, put on workout clothes, get sweaty and have to work hard. "Just press play." On days when I have no energy, no motivation, limited time and a million other things to do, I know putting on my workout clothes will get my mind moving in the right direction even if my body doesn't want to. I even tell myself that just half a workout is ok for today. When I press that play button and start moving, I can't be stopped. Don't bother me, don't get in my way. I'm working out! My new venture of freelance writing is me “pressing play” on my career. You want to lose weight? Press play. You want a stronger marriage? Make it happen. You want to be closer to God? Open a Bible. Quit wandering through the barren desert just because you're afraid of the successes and failures on the other side. Even the chicken crossed the road, and it was just to get to the other side. Being displaced isn't failure as long as you don't settle in that place. You're not too old. You're not too busy. You're not beyond hope. God designed us to live abundant lives. If all He wanted for us was mediocrity, He wouldn't have gone to such great lengths to prove His love for us. I want an abundant life. I'm pressing play. I'll wander in transition, knowing that's all it is-a transition. This big chicken is crossing the road, knowing that if I settle in the middle of it,...well...get the picture?