Long long ago when Meredith and I began this blog, we did so with the sole intent of forcing ourselves to write. We write because we have thoughts in our heads... and every once in a while they're magically communicated in a way that impacts a reader. So, we write.

In 2008, Meredith posted an entire page of writing prompts. I've never actually used one but today seems like a fine time to start (besides, it's nearly 4 in the morning and sleep will not tempt these eyelids tonight); but since I'm a piss-poor rule follower, I'm only mildly adhering to Mere's original prompt. Her suggestion says: "Every family has an anecdote. A short, usually funny story that is told at almost every family gathering. Expand it."

My family has no singular anecdote. However, my family is a unique tribe (to say the least) and we do have an unlimited number of quirky sayings. Therefore, I write this post in honor of my stepmom, Lori-- a woman who regularly shares some of the funniest and wisest comments I've ever heard in my life. Tonight I'll lament upon my favorite Lori-ism (a southern expression that holds beautiful memories and deep revelation).

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This true childhood story takes place in a rustic area of eastern Maine where I was vacationing with my family. Lori was busy in the kitchen (I'm altogether unconvinced she ever rested while raising our crew of clowns) and managed to successfully delegate part of the dinner preparation to us girls. So there we were, my two sisters and me, peeling potatoes and ferociously working to protect our little fingers from each peeler's blade. We must've been approximately two potatoes into the project when I saw my youngest brother Nathan creep from the boathouse to the dock.

Nathan isn't normally a creeper, but a cool summer night's swim always made him uncharacteristically dismal. For as long as I can remember, Nathan has hated swimming in any body of water that boasts a temperature below 95 degrees. In other words, he seriously hates cold water. Right now, even as I write, I'm laughing aloud at the mental image of Nathan's gaunt body writhing in discomfort as he waded into the lake that night. The best part is: Nate's physical discomfort always manifested in high-pitched shrieks. Yep, my amazing baby brother is a perfect sissy... at least when it comes to cold water.

Okay, so back to the potatoes.
My sisters and I continued with our distracted potato peeling. In fact, we barely finished another two or three potatoes (total) before Lori came into the room to assess our progress. She looked around to see our meager offering and pieced the scene together flawlessly. We were piddling through the potato assignment because we were more entertained with Nathan's pathetic writhing and shrieking. So Lori asked us to stop gawking and finish peeling. But before she headed back to the kitchen, she opened the screen door and bellowed, "Nate, what are ya waitin' for? The Spirit to move ya? Hurry up because supper's almost done!!"

That was enough to send us girls into a ten minute laughing spell. Eventually we recovered. And eventually Nathan did submerge approximately 40% of his body into the cold lake before conceding defeat.

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I love all of Lori's sayings, but this one has always been my favorite. I'm sweet on this particular expression for two reasons: (1) The first time I ever heard her say it was in the moment I just shared, and so it always brings laughter to my heart. (2) I think there's alot of truth in this old idiom.

In fact, sometimes I look at my life and wonder... what AM I waiting for exactly? Am I waiting for a coded knock on the door? Waiting for Mr. Right? Waiting for the Spirit to move me? It's not that I disagree with the principle of waiting. And I certainly believe in waiting for God's guidance, but sometimes waiting is exactly what we shouldn't be doing.

Life requires that we LIVE. That we be active participants in our day-to-day existence. We must make choices about where we are and where we're going. Decisions won't kill us (at least not statistically speaking). So we must stop fearing the unknown, the cold unchartered waters of life. We must step out, even in the midst of our discomfort, and live boldly.

I love this quote by Maurice Chevalier: "If you wait for the perfect moment when all is safe and assured, it may never arrive."

Isn't that the truth? I mean, come on people! We can't sit on the sidelines of our own lives hoping for the best. We must rise up, follow Abba's lead, make bold decisions, and become exactly who we're meant to be.