Year of Initiative

Initiative.  This is the word I loosely picked in January when everyone was christening 2019 with some sort of mantra.  I say loosely because I am afraid of commitment. I tend to think it is more practical to look back on the year and see a theme, than to put the next year of unknowns into some sort of labeled box.  But someone close to me made a comment in passing that struck a chord. Mostly because it fit into a melody that had been building around me already. “If I were to pick a word for you this year, I think maybe it would be initiative.”

Initiative

For some that might be a word filled with excitement.  To me it felt equal parts freeing and terrifying. What does that mean?  Take initiative? The years I venture to choose a word end up feeling more like an invitation to introspection than a call to action.  A time to examine where initiative (Or joy, peace, generosity, etc.) might be lacking in my life. An opportunity to ask why or what I let sit in its place.  Fear, false humility, timidity, co-dependence. I like it is a call to reflection so that maybe in the years to come I can live these words out more fully, not just forcibly for the next 365 days. 

Initiative is not necessarily a spiritual word.  It is definitely not a fruit of the Spirit listed in scripture.  Not commanded anywhere specifically. So this invitation to focus on initiative is more personal than universal.  

We are called to be humble, peaceful, self-disciplined.  But we are warned to not be timid, or shrink back. Not to be afraid.  We are called to not be slothful or apathetic.

And that is what I had become in some areas of life.  

So this has been a year of examination, of asking in what ways have I been to hesitant or unsure to take a step out in faith.  Or even to just engage in plain old obedience. Where are those situations where God is extending an invitation that I was too scared to say yes to.  

More than that, where are places in life where being a good friend, wife, or mom means being bold and assertive?  Taking initiative doesn’t always mean stepping into something new. Sometimes it means engaging in the place God has already put you.

Sometimes it’s fun.  Like a new job or opportunity.

Sometimes it’s scary, or leaves you feeling vulnerable like reaching out in a new friendship or initiating with you husband.

Sometimes it is difficult, even painful, like initiating discipline for your child or a hard conversation of reconciliation. 

This year, through the word of initiative, God has not asked me to blaze new trails or create something new and groundbreaking.  But he has invited me to engage in the abundant life He offers. To take the seat at the table that He is pulling out for me. To be empowered by the fact that I am unworthy, but He saw me, saved me by His grace and blood, and called me new for the good things He planned specifically for us to do together.  

It has been hard.  And uncomfortable because it doesn’t seem like a lesson that should be difficult.  It has been a season of recognizing missed opportunities Or feeling really vulnerable and exposed in the stepping out of initiative.  There are feelings of inadequacy, shame, and embarrassment. Anxiety in the possibility of failure or rejection. The possibility or correction if I am reading the whole situation incorrectly.  The uncomfortableness of loss as you move in a direction, because that means you are moving away from something else. A yes always requires a no afterall. 

The lesson is not easy to learn.  But the presence of God in all my moments of victory and His hand of mercy when I fail is bountiful.  His assurance through it all is so very worth it. He asks us to risk because when we step out He makes himself all the more visible.  

The invitation into something uncomfortable is an invitation to blessing.  Because God’s blessing is ultimately His presence and nearness. Which is never more apparent than when we are stepping into the uncomfortable waters of obedience.

I feel like a child learning to ride a bike. Fearful and hesitant. Relying heavily on my father’s steady presence.  Anticipating our adventures together when I learn to ride.