I’ve known myself for quite some time and overtime, I get to know myself even more. I  know for sure that no matter how old I get, taking risks is still scary for me. I’d rather know for certain, the outcome of any choice I make. I want a guarantee that my choice will lead to what I consider as personal success. Yet, I know that none of us know for certain what the long term consequences of our choices will turn out to be. 

  Don’t Fence Me In

I do value my freedom to choose and without our ability to choose, we’d all be living within the confines of what we feel is safe and sure. But, being safe and sure is an erroneous idea. None of us have the capacity or power to ensure our safety let alone our success, which is why taking risks is necessary. 

Though I still find it difficult within myself to say, “yes,” to what feels risky, I do it anyway. I know that in the long run, whether it turns out to be a good venture or a not so good venture, I will still grow in knowledge, wisdom and experience about myself, about my faith, about others and about God. Taking risks ultimately teaches us something.

Risking does not equate to throwing caution into the wind. Taking a risk means I make a choice to expose myself to something new, but not harmful. 

If I hadn’t exposed myself to the unknown, the mystery and the unpredictable, I would have lived a much different life than I have. 

First of all, I’d be single. I’d turned down the first two marriage proposals from my husband, but finally accepted his third proposal. Committing to marriage wasn’t a complete plunge into the unknown, but it did involve letting go of the assurance that the man I married would never leave me or fall out of love with me. In essence, I wanted to be certain I’d be happy forever, free from disappointments, as well as safe and secure. 

But, walking down the wedding aisle, I only knew for certain that I believed my husband-to-be loved me, that there are no guarantees concerning our future, and that I’d have to trust God to show me what marriage was all about. I’m happy to say that marriage has been a happy venture. 

Secondly, without taking a risk, I’d not be an author or blogger. Though I’d always kept a journal, wrote inspirational pieces for small publications and magazines, I’d never envisioned publishing a book or launching a blog on the internet. Yet, you, my audience, have seen the invisible become visible. 

Sentence by sentence, paragraph by paragraph, chapter by chapter, the story that lived in my head became pages in a book. The ideas for blogs became actual posts. The voice of doubt that resides in my head repeating, “Who are you to write a book? Who are you to blog,” became quieter the more I ignored it.  I went forward, into the unknown world of publishing, and to this day continue to write. 

Why bother choosing our risks? Choosing for or against taking a risk is our choice. But I do know for certain that taking risks takes us somewhere different and ultimately teaches us something new.