There are thousands of ways to be brave. Wild camping in Costa Rica is only one very tiny way. (And maybe not even one of the wiser ways.)
It’s brave to move, to job hunt, to parent. It’s brave to crawl out of bed when you’re depressed to take a 5 minute walk. It’s brave to care for aging parents or to grieve your infertility.
It’s hard, but right, to talk to your boss about a hard issue. It takes guts to download a dating app or to delete one. It’s brave to foster. To adopt. Or to support those who do. It’s brave to grieve the loss of the dream you cared about.
It’s brave to love a pet or make a friend. It’s brave to take a deep breath when that stupid anxiety shows up (again). It’s brave to call a friend to say you miss them or stay up late to talk to your teenager. It’s brave to forgive or learn something new.
It takes bravery to stay calm with a tantrum-ing toddler. It’s brave to plan a trip with a friend or to be kind when you are angry. It’s courageous to get mammograms or a colonoscopy. It’s brave to bury someone you love.
It’s challenging to retire and start a new way of life. It takes courage to open a Bible that can be hard to understand. It’s brave to find your voice and say “no more” to a toxic relationship. It’s bold to go back to school in your 40’s or 50’s (or heck, 60’s!).
It’s brave to watch your kid pick up a basketball or baseball, earn a karate belt or blow a trumpet. It’s courageous to belly laugh with friends. It’s brave to stop comparing yourself to others, deciding to fully live YOUR beautiful life.
It takes bravery to be a step-parent. It’s brave to trust God. It can be brave to doubt. It’s courageous to ask for help. It takes boldness to completely change careers. It’s brave to feel the lonely feeling while reminding yourself you are not alone. It’s courageous to love the marginalized. It’s brave to garden.
It’s brave to get married or to be single, to face being widowed or divorced. It all can be hard, in different ways.
It’s brave to drive to chemo. It’s brave to face your past. It’s brave to babysit a grandchild or to show up for a recovery program. It’s brave to fail, again. It’s also brave to start again.
It’s brave to be alive AND live the life you’ve been given, the one right in front of you.
You are braver than you know.
