Risk Taker- Someone who risks loss or injury in the hope of gain or excitement.
I was recently asked in an interview the following question:
“What would you change about yourself?”Normally,
I would have many answers for that question, but for whatever reason, I had one
answer this time and it came close to immediately. I wish I was more of a risk
taker.
I am going to want your input at the end, so pay attention.
Living safely is fine, it is good, but to be honest…it is also boring, and
right now I am bored. Now don’t get me wrong, I am EXTREMELY busy every day,
for instance yesterday. I went to work, then to band practice and then to hang
out with a couple of my high school girls, I left the house at 7:15am and I didn’t get home until after
9:30pm. I am not bored due to a lack of having things to do. I think that I am
bored because I have done the same types of things for so long. I like the
stuff I do, but I need some change.
As I started to think through this surprising desire or need for “risk” (for those not paying attention until now, I am NOT referring to the game Risk…though I do enjoy taking over the world), I started wondering if my recent life style of playing it safe is directly related to how I view God? I used to take risks. The last time was when I felt God tell me to go to Australia. I quit my job and left with only a plane ticket and ended up not only going to Australia, but also to Indonesia, and it changed my life. Here are a couple of pictures:
The Youth Leaders were creamed in a massive 100+ person food fight, I had no idea what was coming, but it was some sort of oatmeal, honey, food coloring mixture mess (AUS)
We volunteered in the café for the high school kid's events (AUS)
In Indonesia we hung out with the street kids, played games and tried to learn the language! (Indo)
We also got to play with the kids in the orphanage and help prepare a new building that was much larger! (Indo)
Side note: I cannot wait to adopt kids
But if this turned out
so successfully, why don’t I take risks more often?I have come up with two possibilities:
1. I don’t love something enough to take the risk
to make it happen 2. I am too afraid of failure Now I will respond to myself, excuse me while I expose you
to some inner dialogue, self-diagnosis.
Both number 1 and number 2 have ultimately to do with fear.
Fear to have passion or interests to pursue, or fear that things will not work
out and that I’ll be stuck. But God doesn’t give or promote fear:
“But God has not given us a spirit of fear; but of power,
and of love, and of a sound mind.” 2 Timothy 2:7
In fact, I would venture to guess that when fear exists, it
is because there is something missing in my belief system about God’s
character, when I fear it means I do not trust him, nor do I believe Him or hear Him. So
if I believe that fear is not of God, can I then walk in the opposite spirit
and attempt to do the thing that causes timidity? I think so. Obviously, there
are lines that need to be drawn here, I mean, it is ridiculous to do stupid things,
so no, do not jump off your roof in hopes that you will fly. That is stupid. I
am talking more about things like trying new hobbies, moving to a new country,
going back to school, having “THAT conversation” with someone, those types of
things.
Ok, I don’t have a great way to end this because this is
subject matter that I am still processing through. This is the part I where I want
your input, what do you think about risk? Maybe the ultimate question isn't about risk, but about loving something enough to risk loss or injury? What do you find valuable enough to take a risk? I am depending on you… as are many others reading this! So
comment away!
Some days are just full of funny little nuances that need to be intentionally noticed in order to entertain.I have had such a day.
Last night a friend and I decided that we would take a spin
class this morning. Spin classes are offered at most gyms and consist of stationary bikes, a small room, loud music, an instructor up front giving
directions and lots, I mean LOTS of sweat.One thing I have yet to mention is that often times spin classes are
offered at an early morning time slot and at an evening time slot, so we
decided to go to the early class as this is Friday and it is unlikely that I
will have time, or desire to go to the gym on a Friday night (I am trying to
give the illusion of “having a life”, is it working?), so this entire paragraph
was to let you know that my day started at 4:30am.
Because I had to get up so early, I was not quite fully
awake before I left the house. I thought I would chow down on an apple for some
quick energy, I grabbed the apple, and promptly dropped it, practically
threw it, on the hard tile, and watched it bounce about 3 times before I caught
it….when I say “watched” I also mean “heard” as the apple was of the Granny
Smith variety, the floor was made of hard tile and the house was quiet, so perfect
bounce/sound combination. I tweeted
earlier (@adrienneyerzy) that I decided I could be described as a “hopeful”
person since only such a person would dare think that the apple wouldn’t be too
bruised for consumption after such a fight with the ground. It was delicious.
After the spin class I thought about how gyms should offer take out, not fast food, but for people. I just started working out again this
week (at some point I will post about why I have been unable to work out) and
because I did so many squats with so little muscle, post cycling me was pretty
weak and I am just saying that it would have been nice if someone offered to
take me out to my car.
I drove home and dragged my body into the house at about
6:10am and thought, “now what?” The thought of watching an episode of“The Office” quickly entered my mind, but I didn’t
want to tempt myself as one episode leads to another episode, and so on and so
forth. I didn’t have to drive to work
for a while so I kind of just stood there lost for a few minutes, but finally
the thought occurred to me to make breakfast (my favorite meal type) so I made
some killer oatmeal (raisins, lots of cinnamon, a little brown sugar). As I
re-read this I realize that you might not think it too funny, but if you could
just picture me standing dazed in my own kitchen wondering if I should watch Dwight
and “The Office” at 6:10 in the morning….well, I think it is funny so I am keeping
this tidbit in.
At this point, actually around 7am every Friday, I have a
heart to heart with myself regarding my office’s policy of allowing “Casual
Friday.” Normally, I have to dress in business attire for work, but not on Fridays! I am always questioning if I have taken advantage of casual Friday and
am often questioning where I should draw “THE line.” After much inner dialogue,
I have decided that I cannot wear baseball hats, or any hat for that matter,
but I CAN (and will) wear jeans. Today I threw on a sweater, skinny jeans
(pushing the edge here), and boots. I will never be accused of not taking
casual Friday seriously enough.
I finally got to work at 8am, with vanilla latte in hand
(obviously) but soon after had to leave to go to the Court to file some
documents. If you have ever had to file anything with the legal system, you
will know that there is a LOT of waiting time and lots of opportunity to “people
watch” and I was not disappointed this time. To my left, out of the corner of
my eye I saw something sparkle. I turned to see what it was and it was a lady
wearing some sort of purple pompom on her head. This was not a like a cute
little hair tie with something fluffy attached, it was like a full sized,
cheerleader’s pompom in lieu of hair…on her head. Based on my personal reaction
to “pompom head”, I can only conclude that we likely all agree that one must
not wear something so outrageously out of the ordinary on their head if one
wishes to be taken seriously.
I continued to wait in line and noticed that behind the
counter there were hearts everywhere. Red hearts hanging from the ceiling,
sticker hearts sticking to the plastic windows, paper hearts pinned to the
cubicle walls, I mean love was in the air, people. The place looked like it should
be called “lover’s lane” unfortunately, there were few waiting in line waiting to
take a magical walk, most people would have been happy with stamped papers, or
just reasonable answers to their questions in a time sensitive manner.
(Side note: Speaking
of “lovers” I am currently witnessing a “connection” being made at Starbucks.
Awe...or more accurately, awkward. I hate witnessing awkward moments, even
though I may not be the target for the awkwardness fairy, I'll blush. Sigh.)
After I finished filing the documents, I drove back to work…
and soon prepared to go home (we have a half day on Friday). Before I drove out
of the parking lot, I got a notification from Facebook telling me that someone
posted a photo on my wall. The photo is of my friend Bri, who I met in
Australia but now lives in Florida. Bri
is a blogger for Compassion International as well as for a personal site and the
photo was posted by my California friend, Kendra, who is has a blog for moms
with young kids. The amazing thing about this little FB interaction is that Bri
and Kendra, although they are my friends, didn’t know each other. Both of them
told me that they were invited to a blogging conference and once I realized
that they were going to the same place, immediately began working on getting
them to meet each other! They both have such a gift with writing and such large
followings that I just KNEW this would be a connection that at the very least
would benefit their blogs and followers. This is one of those instances when I
think that God is so big and the world is so small. Two people have a friend in
common and meet at a location that neither lives in, both living 3,000 miles
apart, all because I volunteered with YWAM 5 years ago. And I was right, now
they are friends.
I would love for you to check out their sites:
Kendra’s site is called “Preschoolers and Peace” and you may
visit it here. Bri’s site is called “Our Savory Life” (about food and love) and you may
visit it here. Bri also blogs for Compassion International and here is a link to their site.
Well, that catches you up to my lunch time. I have no idea
what is in store for the rest of the day. But one thing I do know, entertaining
situations and interesting moments happen all the time, you just have to have
your eyes open to the things happening around you and have command a good sense
of humor.
Why not end this post with a funny clip from "The Office"? Here it is, another video I do not own:
While writing my last post, I realized I had yet another laundry story that needed to be shared, albeit in the direct path of something darker and more sinister.
I was in Australia in 2007 and lived in a house that contained 17 girls and one bathroom…the bathroom has nothing to do with this story, but I felt it important to note, as it is somewhat of a miracle for that many girls to peacefully live together with just one commode. I use the word "peacefully" loosely.
I had some free time on a Saturday so I decided it was the perfect time to do my laundry. I carried or rather dragged a pile of laundry to the back of the house where the washer and dryer were located and began the process. Normally, you would turn on the water, add soap, then the throw in the clothes. This time it was not so. I turned on the water. I added the soap. Then I put in…BAM! Something to my left, on the floor, caught my attention; I thought it was a mouse. I WISH it had been a mouse. NO! No, no…the thing that caught my eye was a large, later to be known as “Huntsman”, spider the size of my hand.
I froze. That is my normal position when I see a spider of any size.
After an undetermined amount of seconds, or minutes, I started yelling for any roommates left in the house, I couldn’t leave because any sane person knows that if you leave the room after seeing a spider, the spider disappears, and then you have to burn the house down. I had enough mind-over-matter power in that instant to know that this was not my house therefore I could not burn it down. So I had to wait. I heard that someone was on their way so I prayed that God would let me graciously pass out. But I didn’t. One of the girls that I shared a room with came out and shouted for me to throw her my flip flop….MY FLIP FLOP! I know I mentioned this already but it is important to remember that this monster was the size of my hand and my flip flop would only bounce of the sucker. So I did the only thing I could do. As soon as the girl began striking the nasty thing with someone else’s shoe, I ran.
During my stay in Australia, I found 4 more of the spiders in our house ("spi-dar" is not a gift), to total 5. I was told at one point that everyone knows Huntsman spiders travel in pairs. You read that right. P-A-I-R-S. I had seen 5; 5 divided by 2 …now you get it.
Every night I thought about how we supposedly eat spiders during our sleep and was paranoid that my time would come with one that I couldn't swallow. Welcome to my nightmare. I didn’t know until the end of my stay there, that someone had found the 6th spider.
I really need to learn the art of deliberate fainting.
