So many times, after I’ve posted a blog, some one will email me to tell me that my blog pertained to them. I’ve received countless emails saying that somehow, someway, I just knew what that person was going through at that particular time; how did I know it? I can’t answer that question. I can only believe that I had to write what I did for a reason. I can wake up and have numerous ideas, yet when I sit down to write, it’s as though my fingers have a mind and will of their own. So why do I write what I write?
Here’s something that came on me strong in the middle of the night. I believe it’s something that so many of you need to hear today. When I was growing up, I always doodled--you know, scribbled stuff on a pad or notebook. I would write and draw anything that popped up in my head—-even if it didn’t make sense. In school, whenever we had to write a composition, a paper, or story, I’d always get an A. My paper was the paper that always got read in front of the class. I was the leader in the writing arena, yet I didn’t understand why. I wrote like everyone else, so what made my words stand out from the others?
As I continued through the schooling process, my writing grew stronger—-I knew it did. But whenever I showed my mother what I had written, she’d laugh and say that it was corney stuff; in other words, it was ridiculous. Well, years of hearing that my writing wasn’t up to the Ernest Hemingway standards had made me not want to write. I was embarrassed and intimidated, yet, in spite of what my mother said, I continued to get A’s on every single paper that I had written. And this continued on through college, where there too, my papers were the ones to get singled out and read in front of a room full of adults. So why didn’t I follow the path of becoming a writer at an early age? In a simple answer . . . the fear of being a failure.
If I could count how many times I stopped myself from doing something that I knew in my gut I was supposed to be doing, I’d be counting in the millions.
Throughout my entire life I knew that I was meant to do something big—something that would be recognized by others—something that would make a difference to the people around me. This feeling was so strong that I was afraid to feel it. Whenever this feeling popped up, I would get so nervous that I would quickly think of something else to distract myself from dealing with it. Years of pushing down the truth and burying it, finally took its toll. I felt unfulfilled and empty. I felt as though life didn’t have a purpose and that there wasn’t a point in living if it meant living a meaningless existence. Then my miracle happened. I got sick, and I became desperate to get well. And in my quest for finding the truth, I found it. I found my purpose. I received my answer. It was in front of me all along, only I was afraid to know it. I was a writer. And my purpose was to write! My purpose was to help! And this purpose could no longer be held down. You see, for all the years that I hovered in my make believe prison cell, I let my dream and my purpose stay buried. I let myself die a very slow death all because I was afraid to fail. Can you imagine? I was afraid to fail! Once God put me on track to find my purpose, there was no holding me back. The fear was there, but I made the decision to walk through it. I took the time to learn about me, and that without taking my chances in this one life that I was given, what’s the point in being here? Because honestly, there isn’t a point in being here if you’re not doing what you are supposed to be doing.
Look at all of your famous artists, scientists, athletes, and doctors … they all failed in the beginning. None of them made it to the top right away. What is the secret that made them the epitome of success that we regular folks don’t know? You want the answer? It’s that they didn’t give up! They went after their dream. They didn’t let failing stop them. They forged ahead with their brilliant plans and lived it! They accepted the challenge and worked through it. They worked through the ridicule and the setbacks. They focused on the neon-signs that blinked success. They let nothing stand in the way of what their gut told them had to be done. And through all of their countless and futile efforts to find their niche, they stumbled, fell hard, yet they got back up and tried again. Man! They followed their dream to wherever it was going to take them. They fell and got cut up, but they dusted themselves off, slapped on a band-aid, and tried again. And they made it! They became stars. They became contributors to this world. They became what they were meant to be. And all they did, and what separates them from us, was not give up!
We can live the impossible dream. We all have a dream that can be fulfilled. Step out of your comfort zone. Life goes very quickly, and before you know it, we are up to our necks in regrets. Go for it. What’s the worst that can happen? You’re not a failure if you fall. You’re only a failure if you never try.