My life is taking me places I never could have imagined. And if I’m being honest, I’m scared.
It’s not the kind of scared that makes you stop. It’s strange, it’s the kind that makes you keep going anyway, even when your legs are shaking. I find myself up against something so much bigger than me, and I can’t turn back. The pull forward is real even when everything in you wants permission to rest.
The message at church this Sunday landed deep. Are you doing what God intends you to do? I’ve tried to force doors open that weren’t mine to open, and it’s cost me. Months ago I told God I wanted to enter a season of obedience. Just that. Obedience. I didn’t realize how hard He was going to make it. And I won’t pretend I’ve done it perfectly, even in this season, I’ve still been messy. I’m showing up broken and willing, and I have to believe that counts for something.
He’s asking difficult things of me. The honest, terrifying truth is that I don’t think I have the capacity. He’s brought provision I didn’t expect, brought people alongside me. But the fight keeps getting bigger. I’m tired in a way that sleep doesn’t fix. I want permission to stop. I can’t stop. And somewhere beneath the fear, I know what I’m doing is right. That’s the part I hold onto.
My sister came to town because she knew I needed her. That’s the kind of love that shows up without being asked.
I was supposed to be on a plane to Kentucky, a job offer, support for my employment situation with the House, legal help tied to the Congressional Accountability Act violations I experienced while working there. It fell through with no fault or ill feelings . So I found myself talking to a different lawyer, and what I learned made the fight look even bigger than I thought. But so did the pool of people standing with me.
In the quiet after all of that, I went looking for my dad. Not a memory exactly, I wanted to feel him. It’s been nearly three years since he passed, and there are still moments where the weight of something hard makes you reach for the person who always knew what to do with hard things.
In his faith, there is a sacred and personal blessing spoken specifically over an individual a promise and a guide for their life. I read his. Then my sister and I watched a portion of his funeral — something I hadn’t been able to bring myself to see until now. His wife’s nephews spoke, Green Berets like my dad, about protecting the innocent and the cost they’re willing to pay. I heard my dad in every word.
Rogers do hard things.
My brother-in-law gave me a blessing — peace, discernment, the ability to know. That’s what I need most. Not more information. Just peace. The confidence to know I’m not imagining this.
Lord, I need you.
I’m overwhelmed . I’m weak. I’m scared. Why would You choose someone this tired, this broken, this full of doubt someone who said yes to obedience and still showed up messy? He must think I’m stronger than I feel. Maybe that’s the point.
You chose Paul. You sat with the woman at the well. You didn’t turn away from the broken. You keep showing up. Even for me.
I’m still scared. I still don’t feel the peace. I know You’re not a God of fear, but I am weak and I need You to be strong where I’m not. Show me who to reach out to. Show me what You want me to do. Give me one step, one breath of peace.
I love You. I’m grateful, even now, even in this. I trust the future You hold.
In your holy name, Jesus, Amen.
This is the season of obedience. It’s harder than I thought. And I haven’t walked it perfectly.
But I’m still here. Still moving. Still trusting.
Rogers do hard things