Laudamus te

Here’s the thing about comfort zones: Generally, we don’t die when we step out of them.

As someone whose DNA is void of courage or bravery, I was shocked to discover this.

But I’ve learned that when we take steps—even awkward, clumsy baby steps—out of our comfort zone, something crazy happens. It expands. We become more comfy with being uncomfy.

This is how I found myself sharing my story with other women. This is why I’m now registered for my first ultramarathon. 

And this is what brought me to this chancel at a beautiful downtown church several days ago.

Where I sang. In Latin. In front of extremely talented vocal students in a masterclass.

And, apparently, I survived.

Now, I have been taking voice lessons for almost three years and have yet to work up enough nerve to participate in anything like this. So, needless to say, this has been a very gradual expansion project. Picture the Zootopian DMV sloth employees.

A year or two after my kids had been taking piano and voice lessons from an incredibly talented instructor and wonderful neighbor, I decided on a whim to start lessons to help instill confidence before a speaking engagement. I also love to sing. 

So, what started as a sort of therapy has become a fun hobby that challenges the stubborn borders of my comfort zone. As “laudamus te” left my lungs, a little bit of fear left my heart.

While I still have much to learn—especially about the art of voice and the act of trust—I do know that God provided a little more wiggle room in this tiny zone of mine. 

Because, here’s the thing about comfort zones: When we step out and expand them, we create broader boundaries for God to grow us; more margin for Him to use us. Therefore, the steps get somewhat easier each time.

It may look different for each person. But whether it’s physical, mental, emotional, or spiritual, voluntarily doing hard things prepares us for the inevitable hard things. 

Just don’t expect me to bungee jump or sky dive, okay? What I lack in courage, I make up for in common sense. 

Copyright © 2026, All rights reserved.