It was a dreary Wednesday as I was making my bi-weekly trip to Omaha. A morning filled with meetings for my “real” job stretched out before me, and honestly, I was not feeling it. I’m damn good at doing the work my job calls for, but being the introvert I am, I hate the “peopling” part. Anyway, I decided to channel some of the positivity and fire of Rachel and Dave Hollis, and Dave’s message for the day hit me hard. He started talking about his journey toward claiming the kind of person he wanted to be and the dreams he had, and how it meant he had to embrace a few things that weren’t in his comfort zone. He talked about there being a “price of entry” too big dreams- if there’s something big and audacious that you want, it’s going to come at a cost. Chasing those dreams requires having a very honest, serious conversation with yourself about whether you’re ready to pay that price.

I laughed and thought to myself about my dreams of FINALLY finishing this house. “Price of entry?! I’ve been paying the price of entry for 6 years now! Living in construction, shying away from opportunities to host events at our home, watching my babies scooch their little bottoms through sawdust and God-knows-what… how much more do I owe to finally get to the finish line?!” As soon as I asked myself the question, I knew the answer. Sure, we have willingly lived uncomfortably for a while now, and 2 or my 3 kids know literally no other life other than living in a construction zone, and that has been a sacrifice. One people frequently tell me “they could never do.” And it’s paying off…. slowly.

I’ve been willing to live this way because we’ve seen it for so much more than it looks like on its surface. Working on this home at a slow pace has afforded us the opportunity to make renovations without taking on loans, chip away at existing debt, learn new skills, and teach our children the meaning of hard work. It’s also become a surprising hobby that Nate and I can bond over (there’s nothing I love doing more than dreaming and talking about floor plans with him). But, it has come at the price of having to humble myself, kick my ego to the curb, and adopt a more disciplined approach to cleaning and organization.

Getting comfortable being uncomfortable

But when I think about my “big” dreams, they don’t include 6 more years of construction zone living. In fact, my BIG dream is to finish this home in 2021 (or before… but that’s pretty aggressive)… that’s right. I’m claiming it and putting it out there publicly. That means that although I’ve been paying the basic “price of entry,” if I want to move things along to the next level, it’s going to require more. More time. More dedication. More laser-focus (an attribute I lack in spades). It means getting comfortable with a new level of discomfort… spending more time swinging a hammer, more late nights working and saying no to social engagements that don’t serve the dream (ie: late Friday nights that might leave me too hungover to get up and work my butt off on Saturday morning).

Why am I telling you this? Because I know for a fact that this message applies to any dream you might have, too. If you feel like you’ve been living in a construction zone for 6 years but you still aren’t making progress toward your goal*, it might be time to get real with yourself also.

*How great of an analogy is that? Of all the fruit I expected my 6 years in this house to bear, I did not anticipate such literary genius to be part of it.