Stop Waiting for It All to Make Sense

Alece Ronzino Stop Waiting For it All to Make Sense

One of the biggest myths of our generation is that we need clarity in order to commit.

Before we pull the trigger, we first want answers to all our questions. We want a complete road map. We want to read the fine print before we sign our lives away. We want confident periods not uncertain question marks. We want to fully know what we’re getting ourselves into. We want surety before we take a step. And until we get it, we wait…

And we blame our lack of commitment on a lack of clarity.

But it’s a myth that knowing more would make it easier to say yes. It’s a lie we tell ourselves so that we feel better about doing nothing.

If I knew all that awaited me when I boarded the plane for Africa at 19, I never would have gone. If I could’ve seen the roadmap of hills and deep, dark valleys, I would have stayed Stateside. If I could have imagined all the heartaches and challenges that I would have to endure in order to embrace the victories and successes, I would have cowered in the corner crying.

Details paralyze more than uncertainty does.

If we wait until we have it all spelled out, that’s no longer faith-driven commitment— that’s just executing a plan. Commitment must be laced with doubt and hesitation and mystery.

Commitment, in its truest form, demands ambiguity.

Think of Abraham. “Leave your country, your family, and your father’s home,” God said, “for a land that I will show you.”

Without even knowing where he was going or how he would get there, Abraham left.

Courageous commitment lined every footstep he left in the rugged soil, stepping away from the known into the land of the unknown.

What’s that thing scratching on the corner of your heart? What is that quiet nudge you continue to feel? What’s the passion that keeps rising to the surface? Whatever it is… Stop waiting for all the answers, for certainty, for assurances.

Commitment precedes clarity every single time.

So pull the trigger. Say yes. Jump off the cliff. Send that email. Start the conversation.

Take the step.

The courage lies in doing it afraid.

What is it for you?

What do you need to commit to?

{Photo source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/lauter-als-der-rest/6898114788/}

 

Alece HeadshotAlece Ronzino –  After pioneering and leading a nonprofit in South Africa for 13 years, Alece now lives in Nashville, TN. She is a Nonprofit Communications & Development Strategist, a freelance copywriter/editor, and the founder of One Word 365. She blogs occasionally but candidly about searching for God in the question marks of life and faith. Follow Alece on Twitter and visit her blog, Grit and Glory.

Bring the Rain

Alece Ronzino Bring the Rain

Africa has the greatest storms. The rainy season finally comes after months of drought, and by the time the first drop falls, the earth is cracked and parched. Lakes and ponds have all but dried up. The tall savannah grass is brown and brittle.

The earth is thirsty. Ready. Waiting.

And then, out of nowhere one day, the storm clouds roll in.

The blackened sky sobs heavy tears. You can feel the thunder deep in your bones as it echoes through the plains. The lightning makes you jump and paralyzes you with awe all in the same loud, bright instant. The wind reminds you that only God could tie the trees down tightly enough.

Africa’s storms are altogether wonderful.

And altogether terrible.

Water rushes into homes, through the cracks in mud hut walls and the gaps in old thatch roofs and the seams in tin shack ceilings. Gusts of wind blow right through bedrooms and marble-sized hail destroys gardens. Those with only their feet for transportation run for any cover they can find — the bus stop, the liquor store, the first home they can reach in the village.

The storms are harsh. And unrelenting. And inconvenient.

And yet, they are welcomed.

There is a joy about the rainy season. “We need it,” is what you’ll hear.

Africans find it easy to say. Easy to see. Easy to recognize and acknowledge that as challenging as the storm may be, good will come of it. It is, after all, an answer to countless prayers for the sun-scorched ground.

They know that the thirst can’t be quenched without the storm.

Spring can’t come without the rain.

New life can’t bud deep beneath the surface of the dry, crusty ground until the heavens unleash their fury.

The drought doesn’t end until the storms start.

We need them.

I need them.

I need the storms in my life. Not as punishment or discipline or as some cruel cosmic joke that leaves God chuckling to Himself. I need them because of what’s waiting on the other side that I can’t see yet.

I need them because sometimes my heart grows cracked and dry, forgetting what it feels like to be filled to overflowing.

I need them because when everything in my life has turned the bare, barren brown of winter, I’m desperate for the life-awakening green of spring.

I need the storms. Even when I hate them.

Bring the rain.

What storm — large or small — are you facing right now?

How can you choose joy in the downpour?

 {Photo Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/kigaliwire/4403135333/}

Alece HeadshotAlece Ronzino – After pioneering and leading a nonprofit in South Africa for 13 years, Alece now lives in Nashville, TN. She is a Nonprofit Communications & Development Strategist, a freelance copywriter/editor, and the founder of One Word 365. She blogs occasionally but candidly about searching for God in the question marks of life and faith. Follow Alece on Twitter and visit her blog, Grit and Glory.