I certainly don’t love money, but I have to admit that on more than one occasion I have taken on a challenge or two in order to replenish my dwindling bank account. Hey, I try to budget, but being this fabulous gets expensive.

In high school, I had a group of friends who took advantage of the fact that my penchant for buying pretty things was greater than the resources needed to attain them. These friends undertook the task of coming up with “dares” that required increasing bravery on my part. As a result, we have some awesome stories, including, but not limited to, “The Ketchup Incident of ’99,” or “Bubble Bath-gate,” and “That thing that happened with Mrs. White that we’re not allowed to talk about. Ever.”

I was recently reminded of my high school “dares” this week. My employer instituted a health initiative that will incentivize employees for being physically active. My coworkers saw this as an opportunity to improve their health. I saw it as the “dare” that would finally help me get that handbag that I was saving up for.

So I’ve started walking to work and monitoring my progress with a pedometer. It’s about a 4.5 mile trek round-trip. I usually start my day around 6:30 a.m., which means that for the most of my trek, I walk in the dark. The worst part is that to get to work, I have to walk due west. That means that my back is to the sunrise. So, I pout as I walk. But I hear a voice telling me “Just walk. Walk into the darkness.” So I do.

Every once in a while, I turn around and see the sun rushing in from the east. The sun paints the sky with brushes dipped red, blue, orange, and purple. God is putting on a show and I have to miss it. So I pout and huff. But He whispers, “Just walk. Walk into the darkness.” So I do. As I walk, I pout, but I also sing and pray.

I blink.

Suddenly, the blues and purples have caught up with me. Followed by oranges and red. Before I know it, the colors have overtaken me and I am surrounded by light.

And so it is with fear.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (John 1:5 NIV).

Jael Amador writes from New York, New York.

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