My two oldest daughters are trying out for cheerleader this week. It’s a fun week of late-night practices with good friends. Of course, the moms are a little frazzled and stressed because we all want to see our daughters do their best and achieve their goals.

I had the opportunity to watch two practices last night: one group of sixth graders and one group of eighth graders. I saw the same underlying factor in both groups: fear. Girls who are normally confident were suddenly letting fear have its way with them.

I recognized something about myself last night as I watched those precious girls. I realized I’m not the fearful person I used to be. I felt a bravery in my core that I wished I could somehow put inside each girl.

I want to be brave. I want to fight through fear and face the hard things with courage. I want to take chances and risks. If I fail, I want it to be because I spent every ounce of energy toward trying…not because I quit or, worse, never tried. I want to remember that I am capable of so much more than I often believe myself to be. When I reach the end of my life, I want to die knowing I lived.

And more than anything, I want my children to see all these things in me and apply them to their own lives. I want them to live bravely.

Everybody’s been there, everybody’s been stared down
By the enemy
Fallen for the fear and done some disappearing
Bow down to the mighty
Don’t run, stop holding your tongue
Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live
Maybe one of these days you can let the light in
Show me how big your brave is

~ from “Brave,” Sara Bareilles