I've been trying a lot harder to get out of my comfort zone lately. Because, quite frankly, it's become a death trap.
I have been locked away in a beautiful easy cage of comfort for so long that it's begun to feel like a cushy coffin. True there's no struggle, heart ache, or discomfort but there is an empty eerily familiar omen in its six padded walls.
So I've stretched out, pursued new groups of friends, started applying for jobs, began exercising and making steps towards moving. All these things still ruffle my feathers and remind me daily of how uncomfortable I am, how much I'd rather just eat ice cream and divorce myself from society.  Once started, each endeavor doesn't really get any easier; it just shines another spotlight on a part of my character that needs stretching. But the change in scenery is so nice. And there is much more room outside of that comfort coffin.

Perhaps one of the most telling questions to ask a person is to ask what motivates them. If God left them alone to their own inclinations, what would be their goal of life's pursuit. Security? Success? Mere survival?
For me it is these 2 warring desires that drive my life; comfort and challenge. I love my hobbit hole, but I love adventure. I wonder how many people relate with the two incompatible goals that take turns liberating and confining. Maybe everyone relates but, according to social media, I am apparently the only on that hasn't mastered their balance.

But then there's this guy...

This guy whose limbs are growing so fast on him that he barely has time to stretch them out.

Getting this dog was the only decision I have made that went against both my comfort zone and my future ability to adventure wherever, whenever and for however long I want. By all human logic it's a stupid decision. In your last semester of nursing school you should not bring home a puppy. When you don't have a steady job, you should not make a big financial commitment. When you don't have your own home, and you want to travel, and your future job will be 12+ hr shifts... don't make this kind of decision.
Buuut I did. And I am so, so, so very glad I did. It's one of the best I have ever made.
Every time I start to really settle down in my zone of undisturbed comfort he comes in and ruffles my feathers, taunts me with his stubbornness and holds me accountable to go out into the world and take him along. He's basically the company of 13 dwarves rolled into one, eating all my food and messing up my home. And becoming my best friend for it.

School has an uncomfortable way of proving to yourself that you can do more than you thought yourself capable of. It can disillusion your idea of what "time" is, how fast a deadline can come, and how in a week you will lose your spot on any invite list because of your repetitious "I can't. I have to study," rsvp's.

But, as people had been telling me these many numerous years, "It is only for a season." 

I had grown leaps and bounds, up at 4am, in bed by 9, studying diligently for hours, being social with strangers, gaining confidence... essentially, I had become courageous. 

So I graduated, took my diploma, waved goodbye to the shackles of college and found... that I am very much afraid.

School gave me back my time and in my paranoia I let it go to waste, hoping it would just pass on without me. But at least one lesson learned had remained. The lesson that even when your heart and subsequent habits are in regression, you still take those steps forward, even if you're dragging your own feet to do it. 

It may be that the technique is faulty but when your psyche is telling you, "The sky is falling!" then don't bother arguing with it, just go outside and let reality prove whether it is or isn't. And if it is falling? well then at least you didn't waste energy debating it.
And even then, even if failure and fears are winning, still life is desperately, and somehow victoriously, depending on God's grace and faithfulness. His mercy and good plans defy the crumbling sky.