I Quit.

The last thing I wrote to you was this:

Let’s just create space to breathe. To rest. To allow good things to catch up with us.

See you on the other side.

I’d rather not admit that it's taken four months to get to the other side.

But that’s how long it took to create that space I was talking about.

That’s how long it took to clear out some things, to sit with the leftovers of a Really Hard Year, to figure out what to do with those broken remains. That's how long it took to find that place of true rest, to finally understand that good things wanted to catch me if only I could sit long enough for them to find me.

And this is what I learned in that space:

My future and my fear are like two rugged cowboys in one of those old western movies, standing at a draw.

They just keep staring at each other, neither of them moving, their eyes full of that silent resilience that dares the other to make a move.

Sometimes, I’m not even sure which is which because for so long my fear looked like my future. I looked days, months, years ahead and all I could see was fear.

It's been a little too long since my future has received the proper love and attention it deserves. I just keep looking past it, to the fear, with a gun loaded at it’s side.

I thought that was the future. One trigger-pull away from tragedy. One mistake away from a backfire, from a blowup,  one I'd never recover from.

I'm sick of putting one foot forward, stepping into the next, better season and seeing fear there too, that cursed loaded gun. So, I get stuck in this limbo-dance, one foot behind me, one foot ahead, not wanting to face the regret from the past or the fear it places in the future.

I’ve had about enough of that.

And it’s Thursday. Bob Goff says you can quit anything on Thursday.

So I’m quitting.

I quit... yesterday’s mistakes.

I quit... pretending to be less than I am.

I quit... pretending to be more than I am.

I quit... pretending I don't know who I am.

I quit... looking forward through the binoculars of fear.

I quit... forcing fear and future into the same category, the same space.

I just quit.

I quit I quit I quit.

I'm not naive enough to believe that those things will never creep back on me. It's a constant struggle. I just think there's power in knowing what you're saying no to.

There's power in boundaries.

If we are going to create space for the abundant kind of life, like we are promised, if we are going to create the space that takes us forward, we have to define our property lines. We have to plant our flags in the ground and claim what is ours. We have to know what territory belongs to us and what does not. We have to know what comes in and what doesn't.

Boundaries.

I hope you quit some stuff so you know what doesn't belong in your space. I hope you properly define what you want your life to look like and then be bold enough to quit the things that keep one foot in and one foot out. I hope you let your flag fly and say no so you can say yes.

It's Thursday. What are you quitting?