The 7 Habits of World Series Champions

Hey, you guys...

THE ROYALS WON THE WORLD SERIES.

I'm still not over it. I know, it was last month.  The parade was a crazy circus of mayhem that I will never get over and neither will the seventy jillion other people that were there, but it was weeks ago. I need to move on.  I should be on to other important things like searching for ridiculously impossible Thanksgiving recipes on Pinterest that will make me wish I was never born, but I just cannot even.  My house still has a ridiculous amount of blue in it, considering it's almost December.  Blue pumpkins. Blue flags. Blue bobbleheads on the mantle (Love me some Salvy & LoCain!!)  Because Oh. My. WORD. Do we LOVE our Kansas City Royals up in here!!!  Now I know I tend to be a bit dramatic (GASP!) but I'm telling you these boys brought me to the verge of a nervous breakdown so many times this season, I was sure my neighbors were calling 9-1-1.  What a ride!  and they have so much fun doing it!! They're so genuine and down-to-earth we all feel like they are part of our family!  

I guess the main thing that keeps me from throwing out the blue pumpkins and putting the bobbleheads away is the fact that these dudes didn't just play baseball.  I mean, they did do that. They crushed it. But they have been the ultimate object lesson for my kids this fall.  And for me. 

You see, our kids attend an amazing elementary school that teaches the "7 Habits," based on the book by Steven Covey.  It's infused into every activity, every lesson, every assembly in the building.  It's plastered on every wall, stamped on every worksheet, it's basically right after the bible right now in the lives of my cherubs.  Which at first I thought was a little much. Until I actually read the book myself.  You guys. Stop reading my blog right now and go read this book. The end.  I love it. It's actually quite biblical. And the amazing thing is that there have been countless times over the past few years that we have, as a family, been able to sit down and watch a Royals game (or jump and scream and holler and roll all over the floor, because OH THE DRAMA) and we witness time and time again our Boys in Blue living out these 7 Habits.  On the field. In the clubhouse. In the locker room. On Instagram. All day er'day.  These guys are great role models for my kids!!

  
Here's a breakdown for you of things I got to say on a regular basis during a game:

Habit #1: Be Proactive - Left Fielder, Alex Gordon

"Look at Alex! He's so focused! So disciplined.  Way to be proactive, huh!" 

Well done, Gordo.  Also, stay in KC or I will die.  Thank you for exemplifying the act of taking charge of your own life. You're amazing!

Habit #2: Begin With the End in Mind - Manager, Ned Yost

"Guys, calm down, he knows what he's doing, he's got the end in mind. "

Way to take chances and see the big picture, Ned.  Thank you for teaching my kids to keep their eyes on the prize.

Habit #3: Put First Things First - Second Baseman, Ben Zobrist

"Aw, look you guys! He loves his family so much!  And he loves Jesus too, you can tell by how he loves others!"

Thank you, Ben, for reinforcing family values on and off the field.  Also... your new baby's middle name won't make sense if you leave.  Stay.  The end.

Habit #4: Think Win-Win - Catcher, Salvador Perez

"Aw, sweet Salvy, look how he's talking with Ventura and the batter, calming him down. He's making peace by finding win-win. See, that's why everybody listens to him, he cares about everyone!"

Salvy, you are my spirit animal. Never change.  Thank you for showing my kids what it looks like to love everyone. All the time. No exceptions.  Please come to our house and take selfies with us. 

Habit #5: Seek First to Understand, Then Be Understood - Third Baseman, Mike Moustakas

"Oh, wow, you guys.  See how Moose could have freaked out, but instead he's trying to see it from the ref's point of view.  They say he's out, so he's out, and he respects that.  Way to seek first, Moose."

Moose, you are a hero. We love you! Thank you for being a perfect example of grace under fire.  Stay loose, Moose!

Habit #6: Synergize - Shortstop, Alcides Escobar

"Did you see how Esky hit that sacrifice fly ball so Hosmer could make it home?! What a great  way to score a run without being selfish! Synergy is so great!" 

"WOW!! Did you see that toss to Infante?! That's some synergy right there!!!"

Esky... in an entire team of syergizers, you are the ultimate team player. Thank you for teaching my kids about working together to achieve your goals!!

Habit #7: Sharpen the Saw - First Baseman, Eric Hosmer

"Isn't that great how Hoz makes sure he connects with our community.  He's not just about baseball.  He's got a great handle on balance!"

Hoz, you have touched the lives of so many kids. You truly lead a balanced life and have been a shining example of what it means to take care of yourself.  Also, you are dreamy, so thank you for that. 



Habit #8 that I made up and is not in the book but I did it anyway:
Persevere.

To ALL my Boys in Blue, you've taught my kids what it's like to play a game and live a life of balance, kindness, fun and tenacity.  But the most important thing you've taught this mama... When you're down and out and it's the bottom of the 9th, the game has just begun.  Never turn off the TV in the 8th inning. Never leave the stadium at the 7th inning stretch.  Don't count it a loss before it's over.  My win is just around the corner.  My life is No Fluke.  Nobody can hijack my destiny.  Or yours.

NEVER. GIVE. UP.  

...That'll preach, boys.  

Go Royals.  Now go have a Remy Martin and we'll see you in February!! 

There's Always Rice and Beans

I've decided to end my blogging hiatus with a little Johnson Family Storytime.  So sit back, relax and just for a moment enjoy a little glimpse into our summer and our totally normal life...


Once upon a time I made my family eat rice and beans for three days straight and the universe exploded.
The end.

(That's how I like to tell the story when my friends ask.)

But maybe I should elaborate...

Once upon a time, two of my dear friends recommended that I read the book "7: an Experimental Mutiny Against Excess." by Jen Hatmaker.  And my life changed. For. Ev. Verrrr.  Now I buy organic, local, fair trade everything and I never microwave anything in plastic and I drive my husband crazy with updates from International Justice Mission.  To put it in layman's terms, the scales fell from my eyes and I realized how materialistic and spoiled I am living in white, middle-class America.

So, one Sunday my children were complaining about the restaurant choice that Luke and I made after church. And the whining caused me to slightly lose it. I think I said, out loud, "That's it, Y'KNOW WHAT?!? 90% of the children in the world WON'T EAT AT ALL TODAY!!! You want THAT option instead" (yeah, that percentage is not true, but I was proving a point. This was no time for "accuracy" and "true facts"- please...)  Anyway I said something that I thought, at the time, was just part of a dramatic rant.  I declared that "starting tomorrow, we will be eating rice and beans.  For THREE DAYS! That's it.  Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner.  Rice and beans.  The end."

And then Luke says, "Good idea!"
And I was like, um.....what?
And then he said I was absolutely right!
um.....I'm sorry, what?
Luke then decided that we should learn what it's like to eat like the rest of the world.  And "if we actually ate like most of the planet, we'd really only eat once a day, not three times."
This is what is feels like to be right! It's oddly unsettling...

So after much weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth from the back seat people, I went to the store and bought like 70 jillion cans of black beans.  And 20 pounds of rice.  Because what the what is going on.

After thinking about it some more that evening, I was quite proud of us. Bring it, tough lessons!!! We got this!  This is gonna be great!  Our kids are never gonna complain about anything ever again!! We're going to be famous for being the best parents God ever made!!! WOOT!  I even made some batches of rice & beans ahead of time so that my usual "I hate everything" attitude in the morning didn't sabotage the greatness.

Monday morning... I like to refer to this part as the "poker face phase."  The littles were all prepared in their spirits before coming down the stairs for their first R&B breakfast. (Ha! R&B...) and they were like, "Oh, this is so yummy, Mom! I love doing this, I think we should do this for FIVE days, not three!!"

Nice try, people.

Monday Lunch...same thing

Monday Dinner....same song, less convincing verse...

Honestly, I love rice & beans.  I was kind of enjoying the fact that I didn't have to think about meal planning or extensive cooking!  Throw the rice in the rice cooker, throw the beans in the microwave.
BOOM. Done.

Then there was Tuesday...
The children came down the stairs, saw their R&B breakfast...
And they lost it.

"NOOOOOOO, Mom!  We get it, we won't complain anymore, just PLEEEEEASE!!!"
Honestly, it was hilarious.  I kind of wish I had videotaped it.
Omiword I'm a terrible mother.

Fast-forward... after refusing to eat breakfast, 10:30am came around and they were hungry.
All I said was, "There's rice and beans in the fridge!" and went back to whatever I was doing.
Thus began Freakout #2.  #2 of, like, 147 that day.
So, yyyyyeah, Tuesday sucked.
BUT, despite what their grandmother predicted, they did not die and they were learning a very important lesson.

Wednesday, I woke up early and sautéed last night's rice & beans in garlic and olive oil for breakfast. And you'd think it was Christmas morning, people.  The kids raced down the stairs exclaiming "that smells so good!! Oh, thank you, Mommy!!!"

Wow. What a difference three days made!!! We did it!!

And then they never complained about food ever again, the end.

Kidding! Please, people, we weren't eating rice and MAGIC beans!! We still have our moments like any other family.  We still have an occasional eye that rolls when leftover night is upon us.  But now we have a personal family story that we can always go back to that reminds us of the time when Mom & Dad went psycho and we learned a valuable lesson of thankfulness and counting our blessings.

I also learned a lesson, too... I was able to hold my ground when it was important.  I also re-learned that man, oh man, did I marry a stubborn dude.  (Which came in handy this particular week!)

So, if you're ever sharing a meal with Team Johnson and one of us complains about the food, you hereby have my permission to reply with this little magic phrase:

"Hey! There's always rice and beans!!"

What in the world are we doing?

I'm so done right now.
A series of events have unfolded in my faith-community that have me broken-hearted and absolutely livid at the same time.  What is our problem!!! I mean....URAUGH!!! Sometimes I think the Church is like those ants that march in a circle over and over and over until they die.  They just drop dead.  Because they were so focused on following the ant-butt in front of them and making pot-luck dishes and writing a note to the board about the pastor's tie and singing "Holiness Unto The Lord" that they forgot to look up and LIVE!

The other day Abby asked me what the Big Bang Theory was. Max of course said "It's Grampa's favorite TV show, duh!" And I laughed. A lot. And then Abby said, "No not the tv show the actual Big Bang Theory! What is it?" I told her that some scientists have a theory about how the universe came into existence. I explained it to her the best I could, because I'm a mom and a barista and an aspiring writer/speaker, the end. Not a scientist. But I didn't wreck the car while explaining it so I'm putting it in the win column.

And she said, "Oh.  Ok, well, could it be real?"

And y'know what I said, people....

"I dunno, babe... Maybe."

And then we all went straight to hell.

NOPE.  That's NOT what happened.

It opened a door for my babies to think it through on their own.  And they came to the conclusion that maybe God started it all out with a Big Bang- Or maybe He didn't!  Maybe He made us a different way.  But y'know what they didn't question: God made us & His love for us is real.  Because they knew that as FACT.

People, what are we so afraid of?  Why are we not willing to go there?
Not just in science but with all the tough stuff.
Why do we squelch the "Why?"  Why do we stifle anything "outside the hymnal?"
We're only hurting ourselves.
Oh. And our children.
And our church.
And all the people Jesus loves.
Which is, y'know... all the people IN THE ENTIRE WORLD.

I'm done doing the ant dance.  I'm through with the same-old blah.
I wanna sit at Jesus' feet and let Him teach me something new!
What say YOU?  Join me!

Ask the questions.
Dare to wonder.
Eat with sinners.
Paint outside the lines.
Have your fire pit in the driveway and invite the neighbors.
Give money to the man on the corner without asking him what he'll do with it.
Raise a hand in church.
Or BOTH (gasp!)
Our Jesus and His Word can handle all of it.
God's pretty big.
After all, He made you.... and He sure does love you to pieces.

(Luke 10:1-42)

Do NOT try this at home

Y'know what happens when you prove to your family that you can be organized and clean and you can plan the crap out of everything???

...They think you're an organized planner who loves to clean.

(hashtag duh.
sadface emoticon.)

You see this, friends:

Isn't it just the most lovely thing you've ever seen!  It's a sweet, special place of pocket charts and calendars that tells every moment of our lives in one convenient little side of our fridge.  What day it is, what lunch choices we made, all of our activities before, during and after school, what we are having for dinner, when we poop, EVERYTHING!
It even has bible verses that we are memorizing!  How precious are the days of our lives!!!!

Hey.  DON'T DO THIS.
Don't be like me.  
Because here's the rub.  If you forget to switch the day from Monday to Tuesday... If you don't feel like planning your entire week of meals on Sunday night or decide to switch some dinners around... If you fall asleep and your husband comes home and dinner isn't cooking... YOUR FAMILY WILL EXPLODE.

I have created monsters.  It's my own stupid fault.  I've trained all of my people to think I have a plan all the time for every blessed moment of all the days.  And then when they ask, "what's for dinner?" and I say "I dunno." ....
Omiword.
Katie. bar. the door.
My husband paces in the kitchen anxiously.  My children lay on floor, weeping.  Even the dog rolls over and whines.

Basically, they all die.

You see, back in the day, when I was a stay-at-home mom, I decided to organize everything that would stand still long enough for me to label it.  We weren't perfect, but we had a routine.  Children thrive on routine, y'know.  (So do their daddies, apparently.)

But now... now I'm a working mom outside the home.  I'm on my feet all the livelong day.  And they HURT.  Everything hurts, you guys, I'm so old. And when I get to my house after a long day of serving grumpy people coffee and picking up people from school the only thing I care about is my bed.  Just get me to my bed.  "Quiet time, everyone to their rooms."  The end.  And maybe one of my children, whichever one is my favorite for the moment, might get a "how was your day" before I fall into a coma.  Maybe.  

And then I get up at 5:00pm and I hate everything.
Because now it's round two.

"What's for dinner, Babe?"
"How many pages of homework do I have to do, Mommy?"
"Do I have to make my bed AGAIN?"
"I don't wanna go to piano lessons, Mom!"
"Don't forget I have a rehearsal tonight, hon!"
"I already practiced piano this week, Mom, do I have to do it AGAIN?!"
"Seriously,  honey, when is dinner?"
"Leave your brother alone and go play outside."
"Do you want me to start dinner, honey?"
"Go outside and play so I can make dinner and your father won't starve to death!"
"Get in here and clean this up!"
"Dinner!"  "Finally!"  "Hey..."
"Stop messing around and eat!"
"Sit down!"
"Help your mother with the dishes."
"No, you cannot play on your iPod, help your mom!"
"Yes, you have to take a shower again."
"Get off your brother and go take a shower!"
"Did you practice your spelling words?"
"No, you cannot have a snack because you didn't finish your dinner."
"No, it's Abby's turn to pick the bedtime TV show."
"Well, why are you telling me this just now, it's almost bedtime!"
"You have to have WHAT ready for school tomorrow?!?!"
"Ok, I love you, sweetie.  Night night."
"It's too late for that now, we'll do it in the morning."
"Did you brush your teeth?"
"What are you out of your room?"
"Ugh, go to bed!"


Darn you, round two.

I used to live for round two.  Now it's going to be the thing that kills me.  Because sometimes I don't have a clue what's for dinner.  Sometimes I don't wanna be organized. Sometimes I don't want to have a plan!  Sometimes I wanna sit outside and just let my kids play in the back yard until the the sun goes down, then we eat whatever's easy & accessible and go to bed.  The end.  But I've trained them to need a plan!  

So... the solution?
Don't have a plan, moms.
Ever.
Just lay around reading books and let your kids do whatever they want and then they will grow up to be free-thinking, go-with-the-flow adults who can handle anything.

Yep.
No plan.
That's my new plan.
I predict it will last approx. 37 minutes.

Third Quarter Purgatory

Welp.  Here we are, friends.  It's that time of year.  That time of year that is named, even in sports, for its absolute Madness. That time of year that makes teachers everywhere wanna tear up the scantrons and sail around the world.  That time that Shakespeare's Soothsayer reminded us all to "beware the Ides of" in Julius Caesar.  (that's right...I know some stuff.)

It's March, people.
MARCH.
BLECH.

I am convinced that when Paul wrote Romans 8:18-30 it was in March.  Or Adar, or whatever.  I have no theological or historical evidence to back this up, just Mommy's intuition.  (Which is cooler anyway.) All that talk about "waiting in eager expectation" and the earth "groaning as in the pains of childbirth"... that is totally March!  March is like the Transition Labor Month of the year.  It's the time when you just wanna push already and anyone who is stupid enough to tell you to "just wait" is gonna lose an eye or a tooth or at least a large chunk of hair.  UGH!

I hate March.  I know I should be embracing it because it's part of the journey of Lent and all, but I'm coming out of the prayer closet.  I'm tired of should-ing myself.  I. Hate. March.  As a mother and a teacher it has always been the bane of my existence.  It's after all the fun holidays, everyone is sick of having inside recess, and all we want is to look out the window and see something GREEN for the love!!!

I always think of one particular March this time of year when my kiddos were really little that I completely lost it.  I mean I've lost it sense then (ask literally anyone) but I mean LOSSSST it.  I don't recall the exact details (that's probably good, my subconscious is blocking it out... ugh toddlers...) but I do remember it had been a terrible week.  Luke had been gone a lot with all of his band stuff and the kids and I were stuck with nothing to do but terrorize each other.  I think they were both potty training, and that's probably all we need to know.  Oh no, it's starting to come back to me... (Aaaaahhh, drama re-triggered... Oh, the humanity! 
OK, breathe...)
My poor Luke came walking in the front door at the end of that day, and I walked out before he could close it.  No explanation, no nothing.  I still wonder to this day what he thought about that:
What the- where is she going? Is she coming back? I wonder what's for dinner... *sniff* what is that awful smell?!  Why is Max naked?!  Is that her cell phone in the freezer?! What is going on?!?!
At that point back then I really didn't care about his reaction.  All I knew was the I was a fuming Mommy-volcano of stress and anxiety about to completely let loose and I needed to get the heck out of there so little ears and eyes didn't witness all of the screaming, flailing, kicking and swearing that was about to erupt.

I got in the minivan, filled with carseats, sippy cups and goldfish crumbs ... and BOOM!  I threw me a Mommy Tantrum.  I had endured approximately 70 Jillion toddler tantrums that day and I had seen enough of them to know the epic ones.  Y'know the really good ones that left nothing but terror and destruction in their wake.  Hair flapping, arms flailing, feet kicking, voice screaming eyes streaming, nose dripping, yep.  It was a good one.

And when I was done... I didn't feel any better.

Crap, what a letdown!  After all of that lovely nastiness I got out of my system, the only thing left was the real problem.  The fear that it would never get better. And that's when I put the traveling daycare/dumpster into drive and the next thing I remember I was in the parking lot of my dad's office building.  I found my dad's car and parked right next to it, and I waited.

I felt like a little girl again, standing at the front of the school, straining on my tiptoes to see if that grown-up coming up the walkway was mine.  My grown-up. My daddy.  When I finally saw him walking towards me the control I had gained was lost again.  I felt bad about it because I'm sure I was freaking him out.  It was weird enough that his daughter was parked by him in the parking lot, let alone sobbing her fool head off.

Interesting fact. Most people think my dad is a scary dude.  To those who don't know him well, anyway.  His quiet demeanor and deep, stern eyes, set in a face that has gracefully and quietly aged, have a way of translating to the world "Don't. Mess. With this."  I remember in high school that my friends used to be terrified of him, mostly because he was pretty quiet when I brought my buddies over and when he did speak he always spoke with this overly stern voice.  I thought it was kind of funny, but to my friends...oh, man, don't make Mr. Walter mad.  Nobody has to die today.  
Truth time. That's right, I'm outing you, Don Walter.  My father is quite possibly the most kind and gentle person I have ever known.  The only other person I can think of that could ever rival him in this arena was his own mother, who I swear could have been a Disney princess in another life.  When God made me He knew my melodrama needed an anchor to keep me from an infinite number of ridiculous events.  So he gave me my Dad.  And this day was a perfect example of that fact.

As he approached I quickly assured him noone was dead, and then we got down to business.  He patiently sat in the passenger seat of my daycare/dumpster, patting my hand while I emotionally vomited all over him: "I can't do this, I'm losing my mind, it's too hard, I'm so done," ...etc.

Then, when I was all out of words, (it took a while) he looked at me and simply said:
"Beware the Ides of March, Lyssa."

Um..... what.

He then proceeded to remind me that a very similar thing had happened the year before around the same time (oh, yeah...) and that this was a very tough time for lots of people.  It's right before the spring.  It's always coldest and wettest and grossest right before the trees start budding.  It's always darkest before the dawn.  "Do not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." (Gal 6:9)

My dad sat in that parking lot with me for over an hour and we talked about a lot of things.  Then he prayed with me, kissed me on the forehead and went home to my mom.  I managed to drive home and explain to my poor husband that I was not crazy.  I was just a tired momma who needed some encouragement.  And I know I'm not alone in that one.

Over the years, my Ides of March have all been pretty similar.  I hate winter.  I moisturize more than I breathe.  I eat my feelings.  I long for green.  And I seriously consider auctioning my children off on eBay.  But at least now I know to "beware" it.  And I also remain in the truth that April is on it's way.
And the days are just around the corner where I can finally use one of my favorite sentences of all time:

Go outside!!

... By the way, the next day after my parking lot tantrum I got an email from my dad.
It's so precious to me, I read it every year.  Hope it brings you warmth as it has for me.



Like the flowers and buds we must embrace the awakening springtime with a cautious pace. Hopeful of what is coming but aware that it is not yet. 
Behold the lilies of the fields; they neither toil nor spin. And yet the Father is pleased to grant them splendor. Welcome the grace of each new day.

Give us this day our daily grace.
Lead us not into the temptations of rapid pace.
May we be blessed with the joy of forgiveness.
And may heaven's will be ours.
Amen

One Small "Step in Time" for Man

Confession.  We still have our Christmas decor out.  Tree and all.
Yep.  We're those people.
At first my excuse was "well, technically the twelve days of Christmas start ON Christmas day, so... and we can't forget about Epiphany!  That's so essential to our faith! I mean really I'm teaching my children about the liturgical calendar by leaving up the stuff, right?"
Annnnnnnnd now it's January 22nd and it's just sad.  It has nothing to do with the fact that I work three jobs, only get paid for two of them (yes, I'm counting motherhood) and I'm too tired to care.  

But I digress...
Here's a lovely Christmas memory from Team Johnson.
It's a month late.
You're welcome.
.......

On Christmas morning, I was shocked to see a rather large box under the tree with my name on it. My first thought was, Poopers!  Someone always has to disobey the "no presents for grown-ups" rule, UGH!

I know, I'm a super grateful human being.

When it came time to open the infamous gift, everyone was watching very intently.  Especially the kids. It was the biggest box!  What was in there!  Children were jealous, grandparents intrigued, my husband sitting quietly, giggling in the corner.  I KNEW IT!  He can NEVER keep a secret.. Most of the time I'm glad of that, by the way.

Then I opened the box and laughed out loud.  I knew in an instant this would need explaining to the masses, but to the lovely man I married, who wrapped this ridiculousness, it was a sweet moment we shared for a few seconds, the only two who understood the gift.

Max peered into the box.
"What the...  why did Daddy get you a bunch of LOGS!?"

My man did it.  He stepped out in great faith and did it for me.

He called the chimney sweep.

I know, I know, Call Obama.  Let me explain.  We have lived in our current home for eight years.  EIGHT YEARS PEOPLE.  And we have never, until that call, used our fireplace. So lame, such a small thing, but something we've been meaning to do since we moved in.  But we moved in two weeks before my due date with Max, I had two babies in thirteen months and pretty much everything that wasn't essential to life got pushed back about five years.  

Can I get an amen!

We just never got around to getting the thing checked out and inspected.  But all it took was a phone call and Wham!  Mamma's found her happy place!  The chimney sweep arrived, checked out our fireplace and told us we were good to go.  Granted it did take me a few moments to get over the fact that he looked nothing like Dick Van Dyke, did no singing or dancing and had a southern accent...but after that initial disappointment, I was just glad to have this cozy fireplace up and going!
And Oh. My.  GOODNESS!  Fires in the fireplace are my new favorite thing.  Serisouly, I'm kind of obsessed you guys, I could be a pyro.  We might not just be that weird family that leaves Christmas decor up till Valentines Day, we might be the crazy people who have fires burning in their fireplace in July!!  

We've missed out on 8 years of this fiery bliss?! Why didn't we do this sooner?!  The unknown?
The possible mess?  The cost?  Why?


Looking back it's so silly how little effort it took us and how much more benefit that we're getting out of it than we could've ever dreamed!

So ridiculous.

(Matthew 6:33 "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.")

I can't be the only weirdo that has this issue.  Do you ever have something in the back of your mind that you've really thought on for way too long?  It keeps nagging you that sound like "I just need to stop thinking about _________ and just go ahead and __________"
For me, I imagine the possible insurmountable cost it might ask of me, when in reality all God is asking me to do is take one small step of faith...and HE will do the rest?  Most of the time for me, it turns out when God asks me to do something, that's all He's asking of me.

One small step.
And He does all the heavy lifting for me.

I wonder how many blessings I've missed out on because I let my mind run wild with worry about what might happen.  And 99% of the time it's never that insurmountable!  And how many exciting things God has in store for me if I'd just stop making excuses and thinking up terrible awful, terrifying consequences of what the YES might cost me. Why do I do this?  Looking back have I ever regretted any Yeses to Jesus?
Nope.
Not a one.
He's always given me way more than I've ever sacrificed.  Sometimes it takes a while to see it, but hindsight is so faithful to prove it.

Are you scared you can't do it?  You'll never know till you try.  Are you worried you might fail?  Even if you do, so what!  No adventure is wasted!  What is God asking you to do?  I guarantee the blessings far outweigh anything it costs you.  

Make it hap'n Cap'n.  I'm praying for you.
Step in Time, Friend!