Racing Ahead: A False Start in Life

Have you ever felt like you take off before you're ready? Perhaps you don't realize it until you're already knee-deep, realizing you weren't prepared for what you got yourself into. Much like a runner who sprints before the gun goes off, this morning, I recognized that I keep trying to take off before I'm truly ready. Our world is filled with get-rich-quick schemes, fad diets, and viral success stories, making us feel like failures if we're not instant sensations on social media or running billion-dollar companies.

A door that opened a few weeks ago closed yesterday; it might just be redirection. But it made me pause and ponder, what if I'm not meant to be a huge success? What if I'm meant to have a different kind of breakthrough? I can't recall the exact words, but I was told, "We categorize leaders into two paths: flocks and herds, and it sounds like you're more geared towards leading a flock." My paraphrasing might be off, but hopefully, you get the point. I left the meeting thinking, "Well, okay, now what?"

Then... Satan dropped by for a visit.

As I fumbled around the workshop trying to stay busy, thoughts crept in, attempting to pull me down. "See, this is all you're ever going to do; why can't you admit it?" Putting one foot in front of the other, "You're going to die without ever finding your purpose," moving when I didn't want to move.

Even my podcasts delivered blows. "Look, if you can't manage your house. If your own kids don't respect you. If you don't have a right relationship with your wife. What are you doing leading the church?" The pastor referred to 1 Timothy 3 and how easy it is to get puffed up, prideful, and then condemned by the devil. Not that I'm trying to run a church, but in the same context, how do I expect to help others when I can't seem to help those closest to me.

Ever walked away from a brief conversation saying, "Why did I say that?" Then, for the next hours or days, you just relive that conversation? I do, but strangely, it's always with negative thoughts. These thoughts loop around my brain, reminding me that I'm a loser, not worthy, questioning why I spoke up, and who do I think I am. Blow after blow. Doors closing don't feel good. This is usually where I'd go off the rails, grab a six-pack, pour on the victim mindset, and accept my miserable fate.

However, something is different this time. I am more aware of the spiritual battle for my attention and am not letting Satan distract me. Sure, it sucks to feel rejection, and it hurt more than I expected. Maybe I'm meant to help only those around me. Then I resonated with the podcast sermon's point. Start where you are. Quietly do good works. If God wants to reach more people, He will make it happen.

I'm reminded of a story: a father and son walking along the beach with thousands of starfish stranded in the sand. Every so often the father would reach down, pick one up, and toss it back into the ocean. This went on for sometime before the son finally said to his father, "there's thousands of starfish and no way you'll ever make a difference." His father smiled, leaned down, picked another one up, tossed it back in and said, "It made a difference to that one!" I'm reminded to stop looking at the whole picture. Just do what you can, where you are, with what you have.

The other point is to stop trying to outpace God. I'm like a bull with a rider on my back, banging around moments before the gate swings open at a rodeo. I keep wanting to get out of the cage, but I'm beginning to realize the cage I'm in is meant to hold me back until I'm fully ready. There are so many times I've acted on impulse rather than thinking it through, planning, and then acting. It's incredibly hard in a world of instant gratification, but I'm going to make every effort to.

So to whoever this may end up reaching, I hope that you're a starfish I could make a difference for. Please remember, your life matters, even if it is only to shepherd a small flock.

Until next time, God bless...