Reckless Thinking and Ugly Writing

You, my friend, have permission.

I am granting it to you today.

Right now.

I am giving you permission to think recklessly and write ugly.

In fact, I'm encouraging you to do so.

I don't remember anyone ever telling me this.

I wish they had.

There is no denying that caution is good.

But there is also a time for a little intentional recklessness.

I feel comfort in knowing and in finding answers.

There is a sense of peace that comes when truths are revealed to me.

And these truths usually follow an openness to question.

In those times when I step out of my ordinary world into an unknown world.

When I'm restless in my state of statements and need a quest of question.

When I'm open to considering new ideas and trusting enough to be curious and playful.

Beyond the comfortable, ordinary world of peace, there is always another step to take.

This seems to begin with a little reckless thinking.

And for me, the processing requires some ugly writing.

I have a prayer I read every morning.

This is one line of my daily prayer.

Today may I trust that

I am granted permission

to ask, seek, knock,

question, wrestle,

wait, and listen.

I love this line of my daily prayer.

I love that it reminds me of Jacob's wrestling with God in Genesis.

Genesis was the beginning, or creation, of the Hebrew people who wandered and wondered.

They would ask and seek and knock.

They would wrestle and wait and listen.

They would live out their imperfect lives moving forward individually and collectively.

And they were given permission.

Yes, there were consequences, but there was also grace, mercy, compassion, and love.

So every day when I read this line of the prayer, I think about that permission.

Permission to step forward and make mistakes.

Permission to not know the answers but to seek answers.

To approach each day with faith (trust), hope (openness), and love (connection).

How do I do this?

I begin with prayer, reading, and silence.

Then, I think recklessly and write ugly.

I get my thoughts out on paper so I can see them and work with them.

And I do so with permission and grace.

Consider that for just a moment.

Consider the beauty of this permission and this gift.

Years ago, I wrote these words:

My mission is to love, enjoy, inspire, encourage, and

positively impact my neighbors and my neighborhood.

I have a responsibility to live these words.

I love you, my neighbor.

I enjoy time with my neighbors.

I wish to inspire and encourage my neighbors.

And I hope to positively impact my neighbors and my neighborhood.

I use the words neighbor and neighborhood thinking of

Jesus in Matthew 12 and Mr. Rogers in Beautiful Day.

I am certainly not Fred Rogers or Jesus, but I do have a gift to share.

My gift to you is permission.

To think recklessly and to write ugly.

You don't have to get ready to do anything.

Start right now.

Spend some time reading, some time in quiet prayer, and some time just writing.

Read what's on your mind.

Learn from it.

Grow from it.

And may you and I be transformed by the renewing of our minds.

May we use this transformation and renewal to test and approve God's will.

His good, pleasing, and perfect will for our lives, for today, and for this moment.

This moment of reckless thought and ugly writing.

Because really, it is quite beautiful.

Background image photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash