Two summers ago, I traveled to Acadia National Park in Maine with my family. I’d never been that far north before and we hit a few other stops along the way (like Boston, Rhode Island, and Cape Cod) but Acadia was by far my favorite. We stayed in the Airbnb of an amazing host couple who gave us maps of the best hikes, let us borrow their bikes, and told us compelling stories of their lives. I can remember one hike we went on that led to a perfect swimming cove that was almost entirely secluded minus a family and their dogs. My sister and I swam and floated on our backs and I felt full.
One of the books I brought on the trip to distract me from endless hours in the car was the book Daring Greatly by Brene Brown. Her work surrounds the idea of vulnerability and how to live wholeheartedly and the book speaks so clearly to this. The main theme of the book is referenced in this quote from Theodore Roosevelt, often referred to as ‘The Man in the Arena.’
It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.
I love that I associate the book to being in Maine. I can remember sitting on the back porch one night, in tears, confronting the ways I close myself up in an effort to feel secure. I value comfort and consistency: in friends, environment, and routines. I think I spent a lot of my life living out of this type of mindset. Even more, I think I simply coasted a lot of the time because it was just easier that way. It meant I didn’t have to feel the hard stuff or experience anger or get my heart ripped out. But I sacrificed so much - I also missed out on authenticity in relationships and fullness of joy in the Lord. Reading this flipped that upside down; it scared me because I wanted to be in the arena, knowing great devotions, and spending myself on a worthy cause. I wanted to be ALL in.
In my opinion, we’re all in the arena whether we recognize it or not. I don’t really think we get much of a choice in that. But we do get to choose how we fight. For a long time I chose to be on the sidelines, pretending the fight that was right in front of me wasn’t happening. Like the end of the quote, I was lukewarm, never knowing defeat but never experiencing victory either. But it’s not about winning or losing. It’s about courage - the bravery to show up and be fully there. The people I admire most aren’t the ones that have it all together or the ones that say all the right things and are unfazed by hard things. The people that inspire me are the ones that bring it all to the table: their mess, shame, and doubt, yet keep up the fight.
Bottom line, I want to try. That is the bravest thing I can do. Oh, I’ll mess up alright - again and again and again! But it won’t be for a lack of trying and of being available. Keeping up the fight and loving those around me because of what I’ve found in Jesus - that’s how I want to be remembered.
morgan