The landscape was peculiar; rocks and trees jumbled together in a nearly impossible to navigate path before her. She'd been told that the creatures in the wood could take her to where she wanted to go - but it meant letting go of her need to be in control. All around her, inside her head, she could hear the voices of those who had urged her to go and stand in this place.
She pondered her decision. She could go back. She could choose the safety of what she'd always known. Or she could decide to call upon those foreign creatures she'd only heard about, who, surefooted as they were clever, would take her safely there - if she held on tight. She wondered how they would know how to find her.
Finally she thought, "Yes. This is where I would like to go. I need to find one of those crea-"
Immediately, she felt a gigantic, broad beak darting between her legs from behind, and scooping her up. She slid on her buttocks, terrified, down the long, narrow, stubbled neck and onto the broad, feathered shoulders. From atop her perch, the dangerous rocks below looked so far away and she was gripped with a sense of panic. This was too soon. This was too high. She didn't know the way. And what (God forbid) if she fell off? She slid back a bit, and tucked her legs under its warm wings.
Instinctively she gripped the bird-creature's torso with her legs. It squawked and began to move, deftly navigating with its sturdy, long legs the sharp rocks that would most certainly kill her if she fell on them from this height. The speed was so much faster than she imagined. She gulped, and grabbed the base of the wings with her hands to help her balance.
No turning back now. She leaned forward to compensate for the bird's rapid acceleration, blinking rapidly to release the tears that the wind brought to her eyes.
It was two weeks ago.
"Yeah, you'll make a good one, that's a great idea! Why don't you go for it?" this one person urged me.
I was still unsure, wondering about this scenario or that one. "You could always ask the 'what if' questions. You'll never know unless you try." No matter how I tried to escape it, that logic kept coming back. Finally I decided to at least ask my questions. They were all answered - patiently. My co-worker didn't push me and respected my right to make a decision on my own.
Thus began my reluctant induction into the halls of representing my colleagues before management - also known as being a union rep or in the organization's jargon, a steward. I had no idea what I was getting into. But I had asked my questions and objection after objection had disappeared. I was faced with one question - whether I thought I could make a difference to my peers in improving their work atmosphere.
When I finally decided to 'go for it' - I was surprised at how quickly the wheels started turning after that. I was invited to meeting after meeting - all in the space of a few weeks. It was all a little - well, not quite overwhelming, but almost. My short description, above, describes many of the sensations I felt.
This is way outside my comfort zone. I am not by nature a confrontational person; I know some who thrive on it ... but I am not one of them. Having to "raise concerns" before people who have the right to have me dismissed, is all a bit much for me. However, I am confident that what my guides tell me is true, and that we will eventually arrive at our destination.
I know that this experience will stretch me. Of course, "stretching" hurts. I'd briefly (and conveniently) forgotten that. Yet I have the assurance that this process will give me a unique perspective, help me see the big picture and be involved in some frank discussions with senior executives without fear of reprisal.
I must admit, that assurance of equality does intrigue me. I wonder if I'll be able to overcome my fears and act appropriately on behalf of those I represent. I guess I do need to remember that I'm not in this alone. I have the support of those stewards who have gone through this before, and I also have the support of my peers.
I know that this is but one more step in becoming all that God has been leading me into the last few years, and that He will continue to be faithful, to be with me, to continue to lead me one step at a time, one day at a time.
I just wonder when - or if - or even where - this particular ride will end. But I'm willing to give it a go.
She pondered her decision. She could go back. She could choose the safety of what she'd always known. Or she could decide to call upon those foreign creatures she'd only heard about, who, surefooted as they were clever, would take her safely there - if she held on tight. She wondered how they would know how to find her.
Finally she thought, "Yes. This is where I would like to go. I need to find one of those crea-"
Immediately, she felt a gigantic, broad beak darting between her legs from behind, and scooping her up. She slid on her buttocks, terrified, down the long, narrow, stubbled neck and onto the broad, feathered shoulders. From atop her perch, the dangerous rocks below looked so far away and she was gripped with a sense of panic. This was too soon. This was too high. She didn't know the way. And what (God forbid) if she fell off? She slid back a bit, and tucked her legs under its warm wings.
Instinctively she gripped the bird-creature's torso with her legs. It squawked and began to move, deftly navigating with its sturdy, long legs the sharp rocks that would most certainly kill her if she fell on them from this height. The speed was so much faster than she imagined. She gulped, and grabbed the base of the wings with her hands to help her balance.
It was two weeks ago.
"Yeah, you'll make a good one, that's a great idea! Why don't you go for it?" this one person urged me.
I was still unsure, wondering about this scenario or that one. "You could always ask the 'what if' questions. You'll never know unless you try." No matter how I tried to escape it, that logic kept coming back. Finally I decided to at least ask my questions. They were all answered - patiently. My co-worker didn't push me and respected my right to make a decision on my own.
Thus began my reluctant induction into the halls of representing my colleagues before management - also known as being a union rep or in the organization's jargon, a steward. I had no idea what I was getting into. But I had asked my questions and objection after objection had disappeared. I was faced with one question - whether I thought I could make a difference to my peers in improving their work atmosphere.
When I finally decided to 'go for it' - I was surprised at how quickly the wheels started turning after that. I was invited to meeting after meeting - all in the space of a few weeks. It was all a little - well, not quite overwhelming, but almost. My short description, above, describes many of the sensations I felt.
This is way outside my comfort zone. I am not by nature a confrontational person; I know some who thrive on it ... but I am not one of them. Having to "raise concerns" before people who have the right to have me dismissed, is all a bit much for me. However, I am confident that what my guides tell me is true, and that we will eventually arrive at our destination.
I know that this experience will stretch me. Of course, "stretching" hurts. I'd briefly (and conveniently) forgotten that. Yet I have the assurance that this process will give me a unique perspective, help me see the big picture and be involved in some frank discussions with senior executives without fear of reprisal.
I must admit, that assurance of equality does intrigue me. I wonder if I'll be able to overcome my fears and act appropriately on behalf of those I represent. I guess I do need to remember that I'm not in this alone. I have the support of those stewards who have gone through this before, and I also have the support of my peers.
I know that this is but one more step in becoming all that God has been leading me into the last few years, and that He will continue to be faithful, to be with me, to continue to lead me one step at a time, one day at a time.
I just wonder when - or if - or even where - this particular ride will end. But I'm willing to give it a go.
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