Give in to love, or live in fear.

As we grow up, we learn. In fact, I've come to believe that growing up is, in itself, a learning process.

I've learned a lot of things as I've grown. Most of the time, these lessons come in the form of life experience.

I learned to leave hair cutting to the professionals when I cut my bangs, at the age of four, a mere week before my aunt's wedding, in which I was a flowergirl. You don't want to see those pictures. Pretty embarassing.

I learned that church is a place to not start talking loudly during the sermon, as I was being carried outside for a spanking, much to my dismany.

I learned that it's important to study for school when I made that first failing grade on a worksheet in third grade; then learned the subsequent importance of honesty with your family when I tried to hide the evidence, and my guilt got the best of me.

I learned that it's important to follow the speed limit when I cried through receiving my first ticket.

I learned that money doesn't just show up, as if by magic, when I got that first phone call, telling me I'd overdrafted my checking account.

I learned that my hair doesnt like mousse when I tried to use it to style my hair, only to end up with a messy glob on the top of my head.

I'm still learning. I wish this wasn't the case sometimes... granted, I really love school, and gaining new information. I love discovering new things about people, and about the world, for the most part.

But lately, my lessons have been a little bit harder to learn.

I've learned that the world isn't always the beautiful place that I'd like it to be. That there's pain, and destruction, all around us.

I've learned that real life is much scarier than I thought it would be, and I'm none too upset about spending the next year becoming more prepared.

And I've learned that things don't always go according to my seemingly well-designed plans.

I remember, when I was younger, having growing pains. Not the emotional kind, though I did have my share of those.... but I'm talking about physical, searing growing pains. I used to get them through my legs, during the point in my life when I really grew in height. I'd lay on the couch and complain about the pain I felt.... how it stretched, and hurt, and how I'd rather just stay the height that I was. (All five feet of me didn't know any better).

I think life's that way sometimes. Growing is pain. It stretches. It makes us uncomfortable. Often, we'd like to stay right where we are... to stay five feet tall our whole lives long.

But when you're five feet tall, in that figurative sense, you miss all the beautiful things you could see at 5"9. You don't get any of the beautiful sights. You can't reach things that are high, and you can't ride all the great rides at the amusement park.

You know those rides. The ones with all the twists and turns... with the loops and the pipelines, and the 0-60 mph start. The ones that everyone wants to ride.

And we all know what those rides are in life. They're beautiful... they're fast... they're exciting.

Finding something you're passionate about.

Falling in love.

Getting a career.

They're the moments when you're strapped in, getting ready to embark, and you suddenly find yourself thinking, "WHAT have I gotten myself into? Maybe I want off!"

The beautiful thing is, nobody blames you for being scared before you start a coaster. They get it. It's terrifying. Often, you find yourself clutching onto the nearest stranger, praying that life will still be yours by the time the ride is over.

But I've never seen anyone get off a coaster and wish they hadn't gotten on for the ride.

Because you know, once you begin that ride, that your life will never be the same. Nothing will ever compare to that feeling of your stomach practically jumping into your throat, and the joy you feel, hands in the air, as you make that first big drop.

Makes the whole ride worth it.

So here's what I've most recently learned:

Don't let the fear of the coaster keep you from getting on. Chances are, you'll miss out on a ride that would have had you laughing, screaming, crying, and rejoicing. A ride that might have changed your life.

Blessings,

Amanda