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I hate doing stuff. (I can’t…)

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The truth is, I hate doing stuff.

As the youngest child (who was mostly spoiled), I didn’t need to do much. I didn’t need to navigate the world on my own or figure things out by myself, leaving a path of trial and error, cuts and bruises. I had an older sister, mum and dad who paved the way with their actions and wisdom.

When home stuff got messy, I coped by removing myself from it, not letting the reality stick and escaping instead into my own bubble. My own world, my own space… free from things I didn’t want to or know how to deal with. It is here that I feel most safe.

God met me there. He sat with me, spent afternoons in the park with me, and showed me the wonder of the sky. I could stay here forever.

 

But – he calls me beyond.

“Trust me,” he says.

 

I look at him with tears in my eyes,

“God, you know how hard this is for me.”

 

He offers his hand and waits.

 

***

I’ve always struggled with feeling incapable, inexperienced, incompetent, weak. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought: I can’t do this. And I’m not even talking about big, grand things – I’m talking about ‘normal’, ordinary things. So much of the time, I lack the courage to even try. I’d rather hide in my room and just lie on my bed.

Yet if you asked me “what I want to do with my life”, I will tell you a very crazy dream. Something so overwhelming that it freaks me out each time I think about it. Don’t ask me how I’m going to get there because the answer is I don’t know!

***

“God, you know that I hate doing stuff… I don’t want to. I don’t want to step out there. It’s scary. I’d rather stay here.”

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