Stumbling forward

While we were visiting Italian cities for our fortieth anniversary, my tall husband would scan above the crowd for the best path through the throngs of people. His one long-legged step were my two. He forged forward through persistent selfie-stick hawkers, assertive Italians on their home turf, and confused travelers. Unable to hear my own voice above the surrounding din, I tailgated wordlessly. Following my husband’s lead was how we had melded together to maneuver through our decades of career moves, raising family, and into retirement. This positioning served us well…until we encountered the intersection of multiple streams of converging traffic.

Jim darted ahead to the other side; I hesitated…another familiar pattern in our 40-year meld. In a fluster, I jumped in behind another surrogate tall guy who appeared confident in converging traffic. When the tall stranger quickened his pace to reach the other side of the street, I did too. However, I tripped and fell forward onto the sidewalk. The weight of my backpack rolled me onto by pack like an upside-down turtle. Jim could not see me weighted down on the pavement, and I couldn’t see beyond the encircling strangers. Sun and stares seared down on me in a foreign murmur. I did not understand.

Then I spotted Jim’s alarmed face above the heads of the strangers. Decades of his love reached through the others to hold me in his arms. With blood trickling down my knee and a goose egg exploding on my temple, shock shivered over me, along with revelation. Turning turtle had disoriented not only me, but us. Our 40-year-old navigation system needed recalibrating. And I knew that striving to stay in the shadow behind a man would no longer work for us.

My concerned husband was the one to suggest that I walk in front of him in crowds and narrow walkways from this point forward. Switching up our order also changed something else in me. Falling into place behind me, I was reminded how much my loving husband had my back.

Tell me more about stepping into risk…
My first steps as pacesetter were scary. I awkwardly bumped up against insecurities and inadequacies scattered in front of me. I had to stretch taller to see ahead and to dodging obstacles. Taking the lead, as uncomfortable as it was, afforded me a whole new perspective…one that had disappeared over the past several years.

In relationship with others
Upon our return, I sought out trusted, safe friends to help me sort through the trip’s disturbing discoveries about myself: falling into shame, hiding in the shadows, fearing what’s ahead, and risking falling again. My soul was soothed by their words:

• I’m sorry you fell; that must have been frightening.
• This sounds like shame, Julie; what’s triggering this shame?
• Julie, I have noticed how you tend to hide; I still accept you.
• Is there anywhere else you want to take the lead?

Their grace and truth landed on me like fresh raindrops. Is this what the unconditional love of God feels like? I felt genuinely valued, and emboldened to become the woman who God had in mind when He knit me together in my mother’s womb.

Moving forward risked letting go of familiar—but detrimental—patterns and created space to notice other options.

Letting Go
Falling into place behind big people keeps me in the shadows where I tend to abdicate responsibility for myself. I am taking responsibility for voicelessly following, and letting go of that taut tether that can drag me forward and downward. Free from the tow chain, I notice choices.

Choosing Better
By choosing to be seen and to speak up for myself, I notice who I am and who I am not. And I am challenged to be the authentic me who can lead confidently, and still stumble shamelessly.

Speaking Up
In your own growth journey, where have you stepped out in front?