Brave Enough

You will never do anything in this world without courage.

ARISTOTLE

* * *

It's ridiculous, really, I told myself. Just do it! I had felt a nudge, a small but holy whisper, to do something I didn't want to do. There had been conflict and I was hurt, and the last thing—the last thing that would even cross my mind as a good idea—was to take another step of reconciliation. I knew that the whisper was from God (because I sure wasn't coming up with it myself ) and that what I needed to do was the right thing. And the right thing, on a cold Thursday morning, was to write a note of apology.

I was fighting with God about writing a note.

Because dear friend, let me say it again, in case you missed it:

I didn't want to.

I bet you've felt this before too—whether you've said it out loud or under your breath or deep in your heart (as if the God who knows all doesn't hear us when we grumble in our hearts!): There are things that life asks of us, good things, hard things—and sometimes we don't want to do them.

When it came to this note, I really didn't want to write it. I didn't want to with all of my heart. I didn't want to risk being hurt, I didn't want to try to see it differently, and I didn't want to work harder at this relationship. I didn't want to make peace; I wanted to turn around and run. As I thought about holding the pen over the paper, I felt my throat constrict, like my very heart was trying to hold on to those words, not let them become real and flow out of me. I had to sneak them out the side door of my soul, through the pen onto the paper and into the hands of the other. So I began to write; faltering, stopping, and starting again. I thought about what really matters, and I willed my mind to choose the truth and not what I wanted to believe, not what was easier to believe.

I still didn't want to write that note. But something was just a bit stronger than my fear, stronger than my pride, stronger than my own self-created stories. And I believe that something is what we all need—whether we are facing one small act or one monumental leap in our lives.

That something is courage.

The definition of courage is "mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty." The root of courage, cor, comes from the Latin, meaning "heart." So said another way, courage is a strong heart. Courage is the will to move past fear and get out of our own way, to become the women God has made us to be. Though fear might cause us to cower, courage causes us to grow. Courage is the titanium foundation of our character and the marble-solid pillar of our soul.

Maya Angelou once said, "Courage is the most important of all the virtues, because without courage you can't practice any other virtue consistently. You can practice any virtue erratically, but nothing consistently without courage." Courage is not just a virtue—courage is the virtue, the one that stands above all others. Courage cuts across circumstances. We need courage in good times, when God calls us to live in faith. We need courage in hard times, when God calls us to endure.

And although we often assume bravery isn't all that important except in the dramatic, do-or-die moments of our lives, courage is forged in the countless, seemingly-small-but-difficult challenges that everyday life brings us. We need courage to make the everyday choices that become the compilation of who we are, what we value, and how we love.

Sometimes we need courage to write notes, to get out of bed, to say hard things. And yes, sometimes we need courage for the unexpected, defining moments of life.

* * *

I brought a pint of ice cream and two plastic spoons to the hospital room. Nothing says "Get well soon" better than sneaking in a high-fat dessert. My friend Ellie and I happily passed the pint back and forth as we caught up on life. I had met Ellie when she was in the seventh grade. Even then, she was a compassionate, quiet young woman with a heart for God and for people. Now Ellie was twenty-six years old and twenty-five weeks pregnant, her Young Life T-shirt almost covering her little belly. We were reconnecting—but not over the dilemmas of middle school, like mean notes and hard teachers. Now we talked medical terms—early contractions and steroid shots and stress tests—over the whir of machines. Ellie put on a brave smile, and we prayed together. As I left the hospital room that night, I thought to myself, She's so young.

Tucker was born by emergency C-section later that week. He weighed one pound, ten ounces, and had a gap between his esophagus and stomach.

Her little boy is now a toddler, and Ellie now knows what it means to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. She can teach NICU nurses like a pro. She's performed CPR on her son while dialing 911.

Ellie didn't sign up for this life. But she loves her husband and son with the strength of a fighter. She wouldn't have called herself a courageous woman when we shared ice cream, but she's learned to be brave because she had to. God didn't give her any other choice—and now she knows him in a richer, more meaningful way. Turns out, she had just the right DNA for this fight. Ellie's brave ... enough.

* * *

Sara was working in a call center—a young, single professional planning on a career as a worship leader—when she first heard about human trafficking. She stayed up late one night, scouring the Internet for any information she could get about how organizations were fighting the brutality of human slavery. She was horrified by the videos, so she prayed that night before bed, not expecting God to answer her. But he did. As it turns out, she was part of his plan when it comes to responding to this tragedy.

When I met Sara two years after this defining moment, a lot had changed. One step at a time, Sara had responded to the call. She started a domestic anti-trafficking organization. She eventually quit her job and became a full-time missionary for the organization. She's been awarded grants, has championed legislation, and has begun a prevention curriculum that's being used in high schools around the country. But Sara's job can be lonely and demanding. She's dealt with conflict and confusion and chaos. Yet at every turn, God seems to already be there, fighting her battles and showing her favor.

Sara didn't listen to a podcast on human trafficking with the intent to change the world. But it turns out God had a big plan for a courageous young woman. Sara has learned. She is brave ... enough.

* * *

When Maria tells me the story about the day her world changed forever,...