The Betrayal
Life can be fickle. I want to grow, to progress, to improve. When life feels stagnant, I enjoy it less, and I find myself impatient. I’m eager for situations to shift, for projects to unfold, goals to be met, and for prayers to be answered on my timeline.
But that kind of urgency isn’t the growth I truly want. More often than not, impatience reveals my desire for control. It shows me where I am striving instead of surrendering and where I’m gripping tightly instead of trusting Jesus and His will.
We all wrestle with what is. We doubt. We question. We long for what is not yet here.
When you begin to change parts of your life, expect resistance in more ways than one. Growth has a way of unsettling others. Some people may push back against your progress or even quietly hope you fail. Your growth can threaten their comfort and lack of courage. It may stir jealousy or insecurity. They might prefer the version of you they’ve always known. They might only accept the one who fits neatly into the roles they approve.
Sometimes your growth feels like betrayal to those who are not growing themselves. Your courage may highlight their fears. Your healing may expose their wounds. Your change may silently invite them to change too—and not everyone is ready for that.
Although competition can be the impetus for your change, it is a terrible way to measure your growth.
I am deeply thankful for the people, provisions, and opportunities in my life. I’m grateful for the blessings in my life. Still, it’s okay to want more or something different. I’m reminded that I can change what is within my control. God grants me that responsibility. He has given me gifts to serve others and desires that reflect His design in me. He has placed a spark within each of us to carry out His will in our own unique way.
When you take those talents and longings and steward them step by step, giving glory to God even when the process looks messy or feels like failure, something beautiful happens. You keep going and growing. And not everyone will understand that perseverance unless they, too, are growing.
This is sanctification, the messy middle of the Christian life. The in-between. The stretch. It often feels long and uncomfortable. Sometimes it feels like survival. And when you fix your eyes on someone else’s journey instead of your own, comparison creeps in. Jealousy grows. So does the sense of betrayal.
But we are each invited into the process of becoming who God created us to be. Not perfect, just faithful. Courageous. Willing to step into the calling He placed on our lives. Willing to try.
Those dreams and gifts He entrusted to you are not accidental. Our ultimate purpose is to bring Him glory. Yet the specific way we do that is uniquely designed. And yes, your growth may threaten some people. That is not your responsibility.
You can change how you think. You can choose differently. You can begin again.
I have started over so many times I could write a book about it. The messy middle is familiar territory to me. I feel no shame in that. I don’t see the different iterations of my life as failures. I tried. Sometimes I succeeded. And success looked the way it needed to look in that season.
God looks at the fruit in my life and calls it good. I am learning to do the same.
Others may have seen certain chapters and labeled them failures. But I tried courageously. And I never want fear to keep me from trying something new.
Life is a grace-filled rhythm of trying, revising, trying again, changing course, arriving, and beginning again.
I don’t want a dull or stagnant life of simply existing. I want a colorful, creative life that carries a little risk. Risk pulls me out of my comfort zone, and that stretch is good for my soul. My husband Rick White has helped shape that stretch in me. His spontaneity, confidence, and willingness to take risks have expanded my world. Because of him, I’ve embraced blessings I might have otherwise been too cautious to receive.
Do I wish some things were different? Of course. But many of those things are within my responsibility. I’m learning to close my own stress loops, to communicate more clearly, to create space for rest and hobbies without feeling the need to earn it.
I am grateful for the life we’ve built and the one God has graciously given us. And I still hold space in my heart for ambition, dreams, our mission, and even for surprise.
A good life doesn’t happen accidentally. It is created and cultivated. It is mission-led, grace-focused, intentional, and entrusted to us by God. Create and cultivate are verbs. Both require action. So I move forward with a heart full of gratitude for what is, grief for what was, and prayerful expectancy for what could be. I take the next step. I open the next door.
Some people will misunderstand your life’s growth, healing, and direction. Some will cheer you on. Others will drift away. Some will feel betrayed. This, too, is not your responsibility.
So grow. Change. Invite others along. Encourage them.
But go.
No matter how many times you begin again, or how other people might feel about it, Jesus will be with you. So go.
In case you didn’t know already, I celebrated my 60th birthday this week, and I birthed a book baby! Church Detox - A Recovery Journey is available now!
Love this!