Recycled Grace: Growth

“Let your roots grow down into him, and let your lives be built on him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness.”

-Colossians 2:7 (NLT)

With the desire to be transparent, I don’t have a ton of Bible verses memorized. I am a late in life Christian, and I did not grow up memorizing scripture for a prize like my husband. His father would take him and his sister down to the Bible bookstore when they were kids, and if they memorized the Bible verse for the week, they would get a pencil. (As a kid, I would have been all over that reward because pencils are my jam.) So, when it came to finding a Bible verse about growth for this post, I had to Google it.

In January of 2015, I made one of my biggest mistakes as a believer, and yet it would pan out to be one of my most monumental blessings. I asked God to grow me: mind, body, and soul. To be honest, I did this because I had gained about ten pounds, and I wanted God’s supernatural assistance to melt the weight off of of me with as little effort on my part as necessary. Little did I know how that small uttered prayer would wreck and rebuild my life.

That was the year I began taking small steps toward acceptance of my past. That was the year where I struggled with weight gain, regardless of what I did to lose the unwanted pounds. That was the year that my life began to fracture, once again. Sometimes God has to break everything apart in order to rebuild it. It is painful. It is disillusioning. It is critical to the growth process.

Growth is Uncomfortable:

A butterfly was once a caterpillar. I have to remember that whenever I look upon their beauty. The colors of their wings dazzle, but once, before they fluttered with delight, they were mere caterpillars. Some people prefer the caterpillar. They’re squishy, soft, and cute. But a caterpillar was not destined to remain a caterpillar, and neither were you and I destined to remain the same as we are right now. We (you, me, and the caterpillar) are destined for change.

Change is inevitable, but growth is a choice. See, there is a difference between change and growth. We all will change, despite our desire not to, but not all of us will grow. I don’t know about you, but I want to be as brave as the caterpillar, so I can fly like the butterfly. So, despite how uncomfortable growth is, I choose it time and time again. I choose it because staying the same is painful, too. It really is just a matter of what kind of pain I’m willing to endure.

Growth is Failing Forward:

Yesterday, I sat in my therapist’s office, and we talked about growth. One of the comments she said struck a chord with me. Growth is not a clean movement from point A to point B. Instead, it is a messy adventure that looks more like a dot chart than a linear line. It is failing forward. We take one step, get knocked back a few pegs, brave another step, and get knocked down, once more. We succeed, we fail miserably, but the only way growth ceases is if we stop moving forward. Growth is not determined by how much we succeed, nor does it terminate when we fail. Growth is this constant illuminated spark within us. It’s that still, small voice that says, “Try, again.” So, who cares if you fail? Who cares if you fall flat on your pretty, little face? All that matters is that you find the courage to get back up and try again.

Growth is Eternal:

As my husband walked up the stairs to our office, I stopped him along the way.

“I’m scared,” I managed to say.

“What are you scared of, my love?” he asked, concern creasing his brow.

“I can’t write about growth because I’m still growing. I’m not there, yet,” I uttered, wrapping my arms around myself like an oversized sweater.

“It’s not about getting there. You’re always going to be in the process of growing. Growth is eternal, babe,” he said as his gentle gray, blue eyes alit on my face.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “I think I can try to write this post, now.”

“Good,” he replied, and then, he walked up the stairs into the office, as though he hadn’t just given me the courageous push I needed to begin again.

My husband is the smartest man I know. He will roll his eyes at that statement because he is also incredibly humble, like to a fault humble. He is constantly thinking, researching, and growing. It is because of him that I am writing. Not just this post, but writing in general. I gave it up in 2007 when my first book didn’t pan out the way I had envisioned. I decided I was tired of growing. In fact, dreaming, and all that came with it, could just pull on some other girl’s heartstrings because I had had enough. And then I met Brian, and my soul saw color, once again.

If you are tired, if you have felt just a little too much defeat, as of late, I’m going to lend you some of my light. Thanks to Brian, I have enough to share. See, we all face these big disappointments. We all have dreams that didn’t take shape, or we deferred them so much, that we can’t even see the outline of what they once were. But they’re still there just beyond the shadows of doubt. I promise. Allow me to show you the way.

Back when I first met Brian, he had asked me why I wanted to write. Was it because I loved it, or did I write for some other purpose? I thought about this for some time, until I decided that for me writing was something very much like breathing. It was part of the essence of my being. Then, he asked me why I had quit.

“Because it hurt,” I had answered.

Brian in all his humble wisdom simply looked at me, smiled, and said, “Well, life hurts, Babe, but that doesn’t mean we give up on it.”

So, as that wave of wisdom pours over you, I ask that you try, again. Dream, again. Grow, again. Because who knows, maybe this time you won’t fail. Maybe this time, it’ll catch. And If it doesn’t, who’s to say that it won’t catch the next time? Or the time after that? You see, dear reader, the only way we stop growing is if we decide to stop. In the end, growth comes down to a choice: be courageous or settle for something less. It is as simple and difficult as that. Growth always is…