Tumbleweed

I’ve been worrying this morning.  And yesterday.  And last night.  I’ve been worrying that I cannot think of a single thing to write.  My brain felt like it had tumbleweeds blowing slowly across it.  I had an idea but it refused to develop any further and I was completely blocked and stuck.  It wasn’t until I wrote it down that I realized the irony of it all – this is what I wrote “not knowing what to say – asking God and then trusting the words will come …”.   Ba ha ha ha!   I am reminded of one year when I didn’t know what to get my daughter for her birthday.  She was about 3 I think and I was at a loss, so I took her to a great big toy store and let her wander about to see what caught her interest – perhaps a little trike or a dolls house ...  Alas I came home empty handed.  I complained to my husband “She wouldn’t really look at anything, I kept trying to show her stuff but she just wanted to gallop about on this little unicorn hobby horse thing and I couldn’t get her to concentrate”.   Obviously I returned to the store the next day – we still have that unicorn thing and it was VERY well loved. 

Aww.  I miss those days.

Aww.  I miss those days.

The thing is – I’m not very good at trusting my instinct and I’ve been told that instinct is another word for God.  I’m quite good at saying I’m going to trust and setting off down the path, but then I reach a cross roads and one road is short and clearly defined (though generally rather dull and narrow) with a square grey building at the end marked “destination”.  The other way is a myriad of paths wending their way hither and thither (I’ve been waiting for a chance to use that phrase) and it’s impossible to see the destination and it’s overwhelming at first glance – but it will get you where you need to go and the route is a joyful one.  I know I’ve written about this before but it’s taking a very long time to learn.  My music teacher is trying to get me to go “off the page”.  She says I know enough music now to be able to improvise the chords with my left hand while playing the melody with my right.   Actually, she’s been saying that for quite a while.  But it’s TERRIFYING!  Everything in me says “it’s only right if you play it as it’s written”.  It’s like being at school and being told “there is no right answer” – surely that means all the answers are wrong doesn’t it? 

Disapproving bunny - closely related tothe Bunny of Shame.

Disapproving bunny - closely related tothe Bunny of Shame.

We all have an inner censor and mine takes his job very seriously.   I have named him Conchobhar- because whichever way you pronounce it he can correct you.  He has a large clipboard, a large and busy red pen and although he is careful not to let you see what he’s writing with it (as he disappointedly shakes his head and sighs), you can tell it’s always a big fat ‘X’ – WRONG! WRONG!! WRONG!!!  In fact that’s what he’s saying to me right now.  But I have a secret weapon and I’m going to print it out and put it where I will see it every morning, before I even attempt to start my day –

‘And He has said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness " Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me‘”  2 Corinthians 12:9

Ha!  Take that Conchobhar!