If you follow my blog, you know that for my 50th Birthday I jumped out of an aircraft from 10,000 feet in the air along with my youngest son. I wrote about how amazing that experience was. I wrote about how taking the jump represented me literally and figuratively taking my life to another level. I wrote about how jumping emboldened me and made me feel exponentially more courageous.
Well...on February 1, 2018...just fourteen short days ago, as if jumping from an aircraft wasn't enough leaping for one calendar year cycle, I took another jump. Interestingly enough, this jump included an aircraft as well, but I went way higher than 10,000 feet. On February 1st, I relocated to Los Angeles, California. After years of contemplation. After years of prayer. After years of going back and forth with God about His will for my life. After years of trying to wrap my mind around what it would mean to be 2,700 miles away from my sons--my two best friends in the entire world, my grandchildren, and my dearest friends, I conceded, packed up my things and surrendered.
Can I tell you that jumping out of that aircraft on October 7, 2017 pales in comparison to boarding the aircraft on February 1, 2018. The hardest thing about the jump in October was the 90 seconds after I was pushed out of the aircraft. After that 90 seconds I had no fear. I had no raw emotions. I was calm. All was well.
Leaving my sons in that airport on the morning of February 1st was hands down the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life. And when I say the hardest thing, I literally mean the hardest thing. I love them with a love that can't be described. The three of us are bonded in a way that fills my heart whenever I think of them. So to live more than 20 minutes away from them for the first time ever broke me down.
I wanted to change my mind. I wanted God to change His mind. The pain of being separated from my sons was too much to bear. The thought of not seeing them all the time made me sadder than I wanted to be. As a result, the excitement I once had when I thought of relocating to do God's will disappeared. I was over it. In my mind, doing God's will should not come with this much agony.
Then the Holy Spirit sat next to me on the sofa the other day while I was crying my little eyes out and said to me, "Yes Mischa, doing God's will can sometimes by agonizing. It can hurt. But remember, God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to be obedient. It's our obedience that pleases Him. It's our willingness to be faithful to His thoughts of us that excites God."
Though I was very much comforted by that visit from the Holy Spirit as well as by those words, I must say that it still hurts. I'm still torn. I miss my sons so deeply. Yet, I'm here. I'm here in California. Why, because there is absolutely nothing I want to do more before I transition from this life than accomplish what God had in mind when He thought me into existence.
Because I strongly believe in teaching as I learn--even from the rawness of this very new and present experience--let me remind you, my friend, that we cannot hold on and let go...at the same time. We cannot go and stay...at the same time. We cannot want to be used and refuse to be used...at the same time. What we can do is be scared and brave...at the same time. We can cry and walk forward...at the same time. We can dislike God's methods and trust His instructions...at the same time. And as we trust, we are guaranteed to see our courage rise as God takes us to a place we've never been to do something we could not begin to fathom. I believe this and I am determined to stand on it, even as tears stream down my face.
I am a Mischa. I am an inspirer. I am a mother. I am a grandmother. I am a human capital investor who takes great pride in helping individuals actualize their dreams. I am also on a mission to help hundreds of thousands of people recover from eroding confidence. Click here to order a copy of my new book The Silent Confidence Killer so that you can learn how to be a gatekeeper of your confidence.