On Fridays, we gather at Lisa-Jo’s place in reckless abandon with words and hearts and comment love for as many as we can visit. Some are bleary-eyed from a late night gathering we call #FMFParty on twitter. Some are scraping to find the 15 minutes it takes to write, find the
right photo and then post. Whatever your
situation today, I’m glad you are here and I offer you a cupcake as a
reward. Enjoy!! It has ZERO calories or fat!
Here are my five minutes on: BRAVE
Most days I don’t feel brave at all. I don’t feel cowardly or fearful, just not brave. I don’t feel I need to be brave. I’m not doing anything courageous or out of my comfort zone.
Then there are moments in a few days when I feel like my stomach has joined the U.S. Gymnastics Team. I wonder if my insides have been turned into a bounce house and decisions are in there having a grand old time.
I then tell myself, it’s not real bravery. My life isn’t at stake. I’m not in any real physical danger. I don’t want to devalue real bravery, the kind where life and limb are put at risk.
Risk is at the heart of bravery.
If there is risk, then there is bravery.
While not wanting to devalue the bravery of others I am devaluing my own.
So I wall claim the bravery in myself when I put myself out there to lead or to sell or to write - or to protect and serve.