"I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do." Romans 7:15
Several months ago my husband approached me about taking part in a weight-loss challenge. The winner of the challenge would win a portion of a pot of money. Good stuff, and appropriate since I still had some post-baby weight to lose. We would enter the challenge together, instant advocates and adversaries. Even though I didn't believe I would win the challenge, I still gave it my all. I ate right, made it a point to get to the gym at least three times a week, and made small lifestyle changes where needed. I cut out the bad carbohydrates and started eating more vegetables and protein. Through this, I was able to lose over twenty pounds.
Two months after ending the challenge, I have yet to make it back into the gym. My eating is erratic at best. My only exercise is walking the kids two blocks to our neighborhood park, where I watch them run and play. I know I feel better when I exercise and eat right, so why can't I just do it?
Yesterday I sat down to write a post, but didn't feel "inspired." Sure, I had plenty of thoughts running like a bullet train through my head: none of them stopping long enough to capture, but buzzing through at suicidal rates, dying before I could grab a hold of one and put it down on paper (or screen, as it were). I kept trying to leave myself open to inspiration, but walked away empty and confused.
This morning I started off on the similar track, frustrated with my alleged writer's block. I kept thinking, "I do not do what I want to do." I am not writing, therefore I am not doing what I want to be doing. As I chewed on this all morning, I realized I was afraid. I was afraid to take that leap of faith, to walk the path-unseen. Self-doubt and critical thinking filled my head: what if I write something that offends someone? What if I say something wrong? What if I come across fake or flowery (not that there's anything wrong with flowery!). I am not, by nature, a flowery person. Can I be something that I am not?
The second epiphany came as I was telling a friend of my woes. I realized that God is SO much bigger than my doubts and fears. Again, I say this without floral and fauna. So often I find myself stressing over the details, when all he asks me to do is obey. If I am afraid, then I do not really trust him. For too long I have tried to do things my way and failed. This time, I am going to be still and listen.
"For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline."
2 Timothy 1:7