I was wondering…
Would it be okay…
What do you think…
Could I please…
A lot of phrases in my mind start out like this. I hear them often in conversations between my head and my heart. And they keep me stuck.
Waiting for permission.
It is like I am waiting for a gilded invitation to arrive in the mail.
The problem is the mailbox is empty every time I check for permission.
There’s no invite for me.
And I guess I know it doesn’t exist.
But the nine-year-old tentative part of my heart seems to be waiting for permission.
Permission to:
- pursue
- dream
- try
- build
- think
I have to remember over and over and over again (usually after I have checked the mail) that permission has already been granted.
You and I?
The invitation was sent long ago.
We just have to act on it.
Permission granted.
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Bethany Howard lives in Tucker, Georgia, with her family. She savors chocolate, the perfect sentence and tickling her kids. She doesn’t love baking, cleaning or organizing. She keeps it real with her posts at bethanyhoward.com and considers every opportunity to communicate hope and encouragement to be both a responsibility and blessing. If you are ever in the Atlanta area, she would love to chat over coffee.
