What if?

“I wanna run but what if I fall?”
Falling’s not always a bad thing
“I wanna climb but what if the wall is just too tall?
Higher than my faith could ever reach?”
You’ll never know until you try
“I wanna trust, but God, I’m afraid”
Whenever you’re afraid, you can trust Me
“Open my heart, but what if it breaks?”
I am close to the brokenhearted
“It’s hard to believe I’ll ever be more than I’ll ever be
What if I give up right before He parts the sea?”
Press on, finish the race, “Have courage dear heart.”*

Waiting…Hoping…Dreaming
What if all you hope for seems just out of reach? What if it feels like things happen for everyone around you, but you’re stuck, afraid to even admit you have hopes, dreams? What if you fail? What if you haven’t got what it takes? What if…

You can keep it secret. If no one knows you’re trying, no one will know if you fail. You’re safe.

Safe is good. Right?

Safe is vanilla. But what if you love chocolate? What if you love sprinkles and cookie crumbles and whipped cream? What if you long to stand on mountaintops, arms raised, head back, tasting raindrops, wind whipping your hair?

Safe is surviving, and that’s good, but safe can be soul-crushing. We were created to thrive.

I wrote poetry when I was a kid. I’d fill notebooks. It would start down inside of me and I’d sense it growing. I could feel it working its way to the surface, slowly, gradually, just out of reach. Then one day, I’d feel it nudge. I’d grab a pen and some paper, find an out-of-the-way spot, and the words would rush out onto the page. Scribbling as fast as I could, I’d cross out the parts that didn’t quite fit until there it was. Just right somehow. I couldn’t tell you how it happened, it just was. And I’d feel happy, satisfied, and a little bit proud. It was wonderful.

I hoped someone would notice, care, understand my deepest thoughts on those pages. It felt like I was meant to write. When would someone read one of my scribbles and rush off to publish it? Why did they only read my stuff, nod, hand it back and smile and say, “That’s nice”?

When I grew up, I still dabbled. Once or twice I sent one of my scribbles off with hopes, dreams that someone would say, “Yes, please send us more.” But, all I got was, “No thank you” or worse yet, crickets… Nothing amounted to anything. Rejection.

Then, one day I met a friend for lunch. In our conversation, I confessed my longing to be a writer. I was honest about how discouraged I was. I said, “I guess I should just let go that dream and get on with life.”

“Beverly,” she said, “give yourself permission to write.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Give yourself permission.”

I went home and pondered that. Then, I sat down and started writing. Seriously. Making time for it. It wasn’t the great American novel. It wasn’t even good, but if felt good. It felt different. The pressure was off. It felt like freedom.

After that, I began to tell people, “I like to write. I’m a writer.” I owned it. Yes, some looked at me with that pitying look we all give to the delusional. But, I had finally realized that success wasn’t what was important.

Sure, I still wanted to write that best seller, but if it never happened, it was okay. Like Eric Liddell, Scottish runner and British Olympian, said about his running, “God made me fast and when I run, I feel His pleasure.” I just wanted to feel His pleasure.

Writing, for me, is about doing what He calls me to do. And, like Lynette Eason said in her keynote at my writer’s conference, “God doesn’t call us to be successful, He calls us to be faithful.” C. S. Lewis, one of my favorite all-time writers, said, “It’s not [our] business to succeed, but to do right. When [we] have done so, the rest lies with God.”

In my journey of becoming a writer, I find that God is growing me, changing me, refining me. I guess that’s what life is all about, really, becoming, obeying what God calls us to do and trusting Him with the rest. And, allowing Him to do what He plans to do inside us on the way.

It’s the same with everything in life, things I’m hoping for, things I’m praying for, things I’m dreaming about. Just keeping on keeping on, being faithful to trust and obey as far as I can see and leaving the rest up to Him. No guarantees, just knowing He’s with me through it all.

Who knows, I may always just be keeping on, learning through the journey, encouraging others along the way…

“But what if the door swings open

to all I’ve been hoping and praying for?

and what if my season of waiting

was changing and leading to something more, more?

What if jumping leads to flying

and fear didn’t stop me from trying?

What if God’s just waiting for me to start seeing how big He is?

What if?”

Consumed By Fire Lyrics, What if?

There are other, bigger, things in my life that I hope and pray for. Things that matter far more than writing. I wonder if, like me, you’re sometimes hanging onto the end of the rope wondering if your hope, your dream, is worth it? Do you wonder sometimes too if He even hears your prayers? Are there things in your life that need a miracle?

He’s not a candy store or a fairy godfather, but God does care. He does listen. He does want to give us what we need and also what we want if it’s right for us. His Spirit even intercedes for us when we’re too weak, too discouraged, hurting too much to pray on our own. And, He works it for our good. Always.

What are you hoping for? Praying for? Dreaming about?

What if?

Blessings!

-Italicized quotes are from the song What if? Consumed By Fire lyrics, writer(s) Brian Gene White, Brian Bunn, Jordan David Ward, Caleb Paul Ward, © 2000-2025 AZLyrics.com
-*The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, C. S. Lewis, © C. S. Lewis (Pte) Limited, HarperCollins Children’s Books, a division of HarperCollins Publishers
-Psalm 56:3; Philippians 3:14; Hebrews 12:1-2; Ephesians 3:14-21
-photo credits: Kristen, Kent, and Beverly Smith, Skydive Opelika,