My stomach flips. It doesn’t last long but for a moment I’m nervous…I feel the weightiness, the potential, the meaning, the moment.
And it feels different even though the thoughts display the same…
I could say something wrong,
I could point someone in the opposite direction,
I could miss my chance,
I could mess up.
Nervous, the word that I’ve always thought was bitter feelings or meant for something sour, has two definitions.
Rather it’s sweet butterflies, the good kind of nervous.
The good kind of nervous is a good thing, even if the feeling is confusing at first. Those thoughts might race through our head but we aren’t paralyzed. It turns out it’s not fear of failure, of shame, of being a disappointment. No, it’s the weight that we feel because there is potential for so much to go right…it’s the nervous that rises when someone tells you they love you, when you accomplish something big, when you get good news, when you are overcome with delight.
When you get to be a part of someone’s big decision, their big day, their life being changed, celebrated.
When you get to speak on behalf of good works, good news, a good God.
When you see glimpses of progress whether personal, professional, emotional.
When there is excitement and buzz around what’s taking place and you have the privilege of being a part of it.
The past couple weeks I have lived in the arena of nervous, with both definitions. I’ve been praying about things that feel big to me in these days, in this chapter. I’ve been making bold decisions. I’ve been asking for help in areas that I need it, which is really, really hard and emotional. I’ve had to be really honest with my heart and how it’s doing because it wasn’t doing well.
I’ve had to trust His goodness even when control feels like it is being taken straight out of my hands.
I’ve felt and seen and tasted both sides of nervous. It’s been extremely confusing and hard to differentiate.
One side hands you anxiety, fear, depression, and worry because we are nervous that we can’t do it on our own, that things won’t pull through for our benefit.
I can’t tell you when that little dream you have and believe in is going to flourish. I can’t tell you when there will no longer be a feeling of being on the outside by being single. I can’t tell you when that negativity will stop stripping at your core. I can’t tell you when you will stop fighting with your spouse. I can’t tell you when your finances won’t feel like a burden, or maybe they always slightly will. I can’t tell you when infertility will no longer be an issue. I can’t tell you when you will see a change in your body. I can’t tell you when salvation will come for that person you love so much.
The other side asks for surrender but hands us peace in return. Even when our stomach flips and the thoughts race through our heads we know that ultimately God hands us peace if we relax our jaw and take a few deep breaths. It comes…sometimes slow. Sometimes infiltrated with specks of doubt but at the end of the day our eyes lift.
When we press into that good kind of nervous we love differently, we speak boldly, we believe fiercely, and we know. We know in that pit of nervousness that a bigger story of forever is on display.
And that’s where the sweetest of sweet rises from our nervousness and turns into God given glory.