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Writer's pictureLauri Smith

New Heights


I've always loved the sky. Looking at it, taking pictures of it, admiring it's beauty. But I never thought I would fly. Far too scary.



No, I was just fine in my cozy little cottage of comfort with cheery curtains on the windows and well used but familiar and much loved furniture.


Every so often I would open the door and step out. My steps away from my beloved nest increased gradually, and more were added, especially over the last few years. And that in itself has been a miracle since I've been so attached to the cottage of comfort.


When I ventured out, I tended to look upon the distant horizon and wonder what was out there beyond what I could see, yet at the same time be glad I had no need to go that far away. Whew. Relief, and that soft blanket feeling of security. I thought this would be the course I would stay on. A gradual incline, a few little rocks to navigate around or over. Growth, but at a slow steady pace. Required a little grit and determination, but all in palatable increments.


But God changed all that. It was sudden and gradual change intertwined. He kept drawing me to the windows of the cottage to gaze out. He kept drawing me on walks away from the predictable and routine parameters I clung to for safety, until it was not quite so welcoming to stay there as much as I could. And He kept me wishing I could see what the distant horizon held. I felt a longing that made no sense because fear had always trumped any longing that involved risk.


One day, God flung open the curtains and opened the windows and told me I could fly, and I needed to start flapping my wings and get on the windowsill and hop on out and move toward the sky.



What? I can't fly. I'm not equipped for that. Its not in the personality I was created with. Like I needed to remind God how He created me. He just smiled.





And He reminded me. He helped me remember that He had placed an unquenchable desire within me to write a book about the very dark experience of caring for my dad in the last months of his life. I went through the entire process of getting with the publishing expert He chose for me, doing the writing, and going through all the steps involved in getting the book edited and in print. And the day my first order of books arrived and I held one in my hands, I knew it was all God's doing.

But He was far from finished. I thought I'd have a launch party because that's something I was encouraged to do, and then just quietly utilize social media to spread the word. I envisioned going back to where I was or at least somewhere similar, and return to steady growth. Back to that gradual incline, and not far from the soft blanket feeling of security.


But God took the word "gradual" out of my life.


Instead, as I sit here reflecting, I realize that I inexplicably found myself doing things that in the past were intensely unwelcome and unwanted and avoided if at all possible. And I'm not only doing these things, but doing them regularly.


God ignited a fire within me, and I'm one who has never been easily impassioned. No easy sparks here; nothing naturally flamable. But this God-fire burns bright, moving me to do all I can to spread the word about how God used me to provide a resource to benefit others. I'm doing incredible, miraculous things. Promoting. Pitching, trying to get a foot in the door here, slide through a window there. Emailing, calling, texting, trying to connect with the right people and hope that they really listen and see my heart for using the book to encourage others.


And the most astounding change of all: I'm sharing my story in front of people, as in, public speaking, albeit with a small audience so far. Me, who can think of many horribly tortuous things I'd rather do. But this passionate fire burns off most of the fear, so that I find myself not just speaking, but reaching out to the audience with the words God gives, seeking connection with them.


And the result is beautiful beyond my wildest imaginings. Almost every time, there is deep and immediate response. They get it. They lean in. They show interest in what I have to share. And then they share their stories, they ask questions, and they give me feedback that shows their appreciation and their need. They seek support and they find it with me. New relationships have been born. In me they find a listening ear and a desire to do all I can to ease the burden they carry, even briefly. To help light their way. To give hope and encouragement from other side of the dark. To affirm to them that the darkness will lift, and the other side does exist, and they will get there and be stronger and better for having gone through the struggle.


Oh my God, my loving, compassionate, amazing God... I'm flying. I'm seeing beyond the distant horizon from my vantage point in the vibrant blue sky.


I've always loved the sky, but never considered I would be flying through it. It's not very graceful; quite stiff and awkward really, but even so, I can feel Your wind beneath my wings as You guide me in this season.


The view is incredible. It's like nothing I ever imagined or knew I could see. Humbled. Grateful.


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