i talked about fight club. i know i know i know.

Fight Club was one of the first novels I truly loved. It was a compulsory text in 7th form English, but I was hooked straight away and loved the narrative style, dark musings and what Palahniuk did with his characters. The critique on Western materialism is prolific within the pages and is a sharp statement about our culture. The movie is pretty good too, and while not as good as the book, it has still commanded a cult following and displays the grit and brutality of the ideas well.

One of the best parts about the film and book are Tyler's rants and critiques about the way people in the West live. Here's what is possibly the most poignant of the lot:

"I see in Fight Club the strongest and smartest men who’ve ever lived. I see all this potential. And I see it squandered. Goddamn it, an entire generation pumping gas. Waiting tables. Slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes. Working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don’t need. We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our great war is a spiritual war. Our great depression is our lives. We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars. But we won’t. We’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off."

As I read this for a second time a couple of months ago, I began to see some parallels between the disillusionment towards that story of celebrity, candy culture, smiling billboards and images of the good life – parallels between that, and pop Christianity. The Sunday school flannel board Christianity. The "Jesus is Nice" Christianity that I have been fed at many points growing up in the christian subculture. I've grown to realise that this Christianity does not stand up to real life and needs to be called out for what it is.

So it inspired me to rewrite this speech of Tyler’s. This is my rant in the style of Tyler Durden:

"I see in churches some of the strongest men and woman in the world. I see the best of humanity. But I see many of these people squashed into ideals of niceness, compliance and shallow sentiment. I see greatness pushed into narratives of the good life that told us that becoming a Christian would mean we would be prosperous now that God had our backs. It told us that life with Jesus would always be an adventure, and that God’s great plan for our lives was to fulfil the desires of our hearts, like some cosmic genie. That when Jesus said that he wanted us to live life to the full it meant that we jumped from one exhilarating spiritual experience to the next. But now I don’t know what to do with moments of monotony. This message told us that we were able to achieve anything we wanted in God’s power and would walk in victory all the time. That we would know he is near because we would be in a heightened emotional state due to the fact that the Christian walk is always exciting, spontaneous and personally fulfilling. But it's not like this. And we who call ourselves Christians are slowly learning this fact. And we're very, very pissed off."

Too harsh? I think a critique is needed. Christian living is not like this. The way we do church cannot reflect an 'adventure gospel' and evangelism cannot operate under a message that following Jesus is an adventure. Sometimes it is. Sometimes it is the opposite.

you should totes come.

What is God's will for my life? How do I know if I'm doing what I'm called to do? How do I serve God in my career?

This year camp will be dedicated to questions and conversations around this thinking. We have great speakers lined up, including Sam Bloore from the Compass Foundation.

More details to come soon, but make sure you sign up and save the date! Everyone welcome!

http://www.facebook.com/messages/#!/events/277850335664691/?fref=ts

Belinda Stott: Depression

A few weeks ago we had the privilege of Belinda Stott coming to chat to us about depression - the different forms, causes and ways to manage it. Many people found it really useful and it was a good reminder of the damaging way we can sometimes set church culture up for inauthenticity. Well worth the listen, more than once even!

Belinda and her husband Matt will be running Soul Tour at the beginning of next year, a 'crash course in psychology, theology, philosophy and life skills from a Christian world view'. I'll be doing it! You can check out the website here: http://www.soultour.co.nz/

And here's the audio from the night:

Ben Wilson: Being Single

Okay, I admit; I'm quite the catch. Such a reality shouldn't be surprising for a stubble-scrumptious charismatic stallion. After a sentence like that it's going to be hard to explain why I'm still single. Do I not bother? Do I go for the wrong ones? 'Cause it's too difficult? Do I spend too much time in a gym that hardly has any women? Most of those are true but I'm more interested in taunting a greater question - what's wrong with being single? 

 

Should we agree with the Eleanor Rigbys and just say 'it sucks'?

I get a lot of crap for being single. Not for being single itself, but for how long I've been. I had my last (and only) girlfriend at fifteen, and she left me for another man - Australia. Since then everyone's been telling me I should find someone else - that it's silly for such a date-able man to stay single. But I've never been the kind of guy that's needed a relationship. Some people fear it, but I can confidently say I enjoy it (cheeky monkey; rolling your eyes).

Never in my life am I going to have such abundance of time, money...and genuine happiness. I do a lot of things now that I wouldn't have time for with a girlfriend - and that's probably the reason I am still single. Such a lifestyle makes me hesitant to join the relationship parade - but alas I know I must grow up someday and embrace the change.

My desire for intimacy has by no means been buried. There are times when I'll watch a movie by myself and wish there were a head resting on my shoulder apart from the dog's. I see the attraction in being with someone - having a best friend you can be honest and laugh with. Why else would I workout? 

Maybe the time is coming when I should get off my butt and do something, or maybe it isn't - either way I want to enjoy the 'now'.

Therein lies part of the problem - thinking a relationship will improve your life. Not necessarily. I've seen couples who wanted nothing more than to be single. I've seen people break up and wish they never got together in the first place. I've also seen people put all their hopes into finding someone, waiting patiently for a deus ex only to hear crickets. Each reality comes with its own delights and sufferings - the difference is learning to enjoy the one you're in.

Too much goes on in life to worry about where I could be. I know I can't stay single forever, nor is that my plan. Where I am now I wouldn't trade for anything in the world. Things haven't turned out how I expected - but they have turned out well. And someday, I'll share it with someone.

Until then I just need to break past the romantic politics, body language and elusiveness. The fun begins.

The Overstayer by Amanda Pilbrow

So I have this house guest that insists on dropping in unannounced, uninvited and at irregular times. Actually calling him a guest is being far to kind. He is intensely unwelcome and much more than just a ‘regular’ pain in the gluteus maximus. Not at all the kind you are pleased to see when opening the front door, standing there with ratty suitcase full, guilty tricks in hand, and with the full expectation of taking up residence for an undisclosed period of time.  Experience tells me he’ll stay anywhere from 24 hours to a week, or sometimes, sadly, longer. Once his foot is in the door, before I’ve had time to slam it shut, he’s pushed his way in and there’s not a lot I can do to dissuade him from staying. Believe me I’ve tried. I’ve tried ignoring him, yelling at him, being accommodating to him, I’ve asked others to talk to him and persuade him to be on his way, and yes I’ve tried to pray him away. But no, when he comes he intends to stay.  He is really a rather rude and formidable bully. He is as immoveable and offensive as the smell left on a shoe smeared with dog poo. Eventually it will go but until then… don’t sniff too deep.  Quite frankly no matter how many times I tell him “Now is not the best time”, “I’m too busy” or simply is “You’re not welcome”, he sneers his dirty vindictive smile at me, snubs his nose and gives me a look that that says “Tough #**t”.  So rude!

I’m learning to read the weather signs. I can get a foreboding sense, a ‘doom receptor’ if you like, that he might be on his way. My sixth sense kicks in and I know that he is likely to be just over the horizon, or closer, just around the corner and heading my way.  An irregular heartbeat escapes my chest just before it sinks into my stomach. Crap. Damn. Is he on his way?  So I’ll try to batten down the hatches, I’ll try to hide out of sight behind the couch, or under the bed covers wishing him to bypass me and simply move on the next sucker in his little black address book. I’ll try to remember to lock the front door but he usually catches me out and at times even manages to sneak in the back door while all my attention is focused on heading him off at the front door. Hate it when that happens… idiot! Me, not him.

Out of necessity I’ve given him a pet name, all be it rather a dramatic one… The Dark Cloud. Yeah I know, sounds like a character from Pokémon or Dragon Ball Z or worse, My Little Pony. But it’s the name that fits, and it’s stuck.

His time here drags like a stopped clock and I often can’t stop myself from falling into my default mode. Self-protection and preservation. I withdraw. Everything inside me reacts and my walls go up. Not surprising I guess, but also not ideal. I’ve learnt to keep my mouth shut when he’s around. He’s such an antagonist that everything inside me wants to spurt out negativity, accusations and bitching, not at my over stayer, though fully deserved, but at anyone else I come in contact with or to be brutally honest, those who love me best. It’s not their fault I didn’t manage to head him off at the pass but well really he doesn’t care if I verbalise my frustration at him, he’s not moving on till he moves on.

Should he decide it’s one of his longer stays, I’m a mess. My resolve is worn down. My energy drained. My skin grey. I feel like that unsuspecting water in the glass the teacher uses in sex ed. to show just how much a tampon can hold… sucked in and sucked dry. Oh God help me, not again.

Nothing gets done, not the basics and especially not the things I like to do and numbness invades the areas that would otherwise energise me. If the sun didn’t come up tomorrow, well, who cares? He’s such a kill joy. He’s such a leach. He’s such a #@%*.  He whispers in my ear at the most inopportune times … “Who do you think you are? You know you’re useless; you’re ineffective, irrelevant and just plain ugly all round”. And he’s so good at the whispers game, knows just how to throw me off balance, blindside me and knock my legs from under me and stupid me, I’m taken by surprise every time. He brings me to tears and offers no comfort or apology. There’s been times when he’s stayed so long and his words have cut me so deep that when I close my eyes I’m in a pit, a deep pit with oil up the sides and every time I try to climb out, to get a foot hold, I slide back down to the bottom. And he sniggers. Sigh. Heavy sigh.

You’ll be pleased to hear I’m getting better now at making his stays shorter when he comes. And lately he doesn’t come quite so often.  I’m learning. I can’t stop him from coming altogether but I’ve learnt that when he does show up I can make him feel uncomfortable enough to the point where he ‘wants’ to leave, all by himself. How? I make sure I rest, I be a little kinder to me, I allow myself to be quiet but not withdrawn, I take time to get outside and breathe deeply and soak in some Vit D, I take longer showers, I eat chocolate and liquorice accompanied by a good dark tipple, I drink less coffee(well not really), I’ll watch something that will make me laugh out loud like ‘Wipe Out’ or ‘Miranda’,  I’ll talk (cry sometimes) to God about how I’m feeling and how I hate this intruder in my home and that he makes me mad now rather than just sad. And God says “That’s good, I don’t like when he visits you either, let’s make him uncomfortable together.” I give those I love most the heads up that he’s coming (or arrived) so they too can make him uncomfortable. I know he will leave. I know how I react affects his resolve.

My aim is to make him think twice about knocking on my door at all. I don’t actually think that’s remotely possible but hey, it’s ok. Life without challenge would just be another shade of grey… predictable, without substance and lacking commitment.

Ben Wilson: Arkham World

 

 

I'll confess, I have a cupboard in my room just for masks. Even I'm impressed by how many I've collected - each one an art form in itself, with its own history and make. I'm never in need. I have them all. I have one I take to the gym, to work, church. I keep one for my family - for every friend. I'm somewhat of an actor.

I recently finished my second playthrough of Batman: Arkham City; a universe of colourful criminals and flawed heroes. A circus of miscreant performers.

Don't know if I'm finally losing it or I'm just getting soft, but I started seeing a real side to the game's characters. All their hurts and sufferings. The unfortunate reasons they're iconic in the first place. Each has their own visage where they (and we) find their identity; a former district attorney obsessed with duality who copes with the cruel misfortunes of life by tossing a coin; a narcissistic riddler who leaves clues of his deadly deeds because he wants attention; a homicidal jester who chose a life of madness and anarchy after enduring one unbearable day, and a playboy billionaire who adopted a dark persona to deal with his sadness and rage at the loss of his parents.

Perhaps I'm getting too soppy over fictional characters - but I see the same thing in our world. We disguise ourselves and make rash decisions that stem from things we've experienced. We live like thespians, carrying our wardrobes full of masks and expect people to understand where we're coming from - when they're just trying get by themselves.

I'll admit I'm a fairly apathetic man, but occasionally I have my moments of caring. It originates from past hurts and burns. Arguably I use to care too much, but more often that not it felt one-sided, so when I found an excuse not to care I rolled with it. It was refreshing to let people go and relax as I watched the world unwind, not bothering to attend to every immediate need. Stay somewhere too long though and you tire of it. I wanted to care again, to feel love and give love. That's where I find myself now.

I remember one day I was with a group of friends swimming. When I got out one of my mates gave me his hand to help me out. I didn't take it. I wasn't trying to be rude - I wanted to be independent. That came at a price. As I looked up, I could see the rejection in his face. Seems like such a trivial thing. I didn't even need his help, I was just getting out of a pool, but that wasn't the point. It mattered a lot to him, and it matters to me now - if only it did then. 'If only I saw it his way,' I say to myself. Nowadays when someone offers me help, I take it.

People often tell me stories of others who've wronged them. I try and imagine what the person on the other side is really saying amidst the jumble of emotions. In all my time (a very long time) I've found most people are just trying to do right. They're not inherently bad - just scarred. Such a call to love and see past peoples' personal attacks and meltdowns is...unrealistic at best. No doubt I'll get frustrated with someone tonight and completely forget what I've written and what situation they're in. But I'm a dreamer, so that's what I'll do.

I suppose in the end, we're trying to tell people we want to be appreciated and accepted. I mean why did I bother to write this article? Was it to genuinely explore the issue or to seek acknowledgment and praise? Probably the latter. What strange ways we have...

Casey's Awkward Confessions: #6

Sometimes I think my brain is missing the bit that usually fits somewhere between the thought generator and the communication station. I think I need to take my filter back and get a refund. There are so many times in my life where I’ve said something, then had to dwell in the awkward silence while everyone – including myself – wonders where the heck that thought came from.

One particularly glorious occasion was when I was out with my boyfriend and we happened to see his parents who were having dinner. He went over to say hi while I bought our food, then came back and told me how his Dad had made a joke that they were sitting at the ‘cool table’ so we couldn’t join them.

Before I continue this story, I must point out that his Dad scared the living daylights out of me. It wasn’t just that he was one of those quiet, mysterious, all-round-intimidating dudes. I was terrified he thought I wasn’t good enough for his one-and-only son.

Of course, it was only polite that I went over to say hello as well. As we were approaching the table I tried to come up with something funny to join in with the joke, something along the lines of‘sorry I’ve bought the uncool guy back to your table.’ *Cue cheesy recorded laughter* A million options whirred through my head as I desperately sought the one witty phrase that would both entertain and win the approval of my boyfriend’s scary Dad. Unfortunately I panicked, and in a last-ditch attempt to come up with something I accidentally blurted out:

“I’m sorry, are we not cool enough for you?!”

He didn’t look at me. He didn’t say a word. He continued to eat his meal, looked straight ahead and, presumably, imagined a better world where it never rained and I wasn’t dating his son (fortunately not long after that he got his wish).

Meanwhile I went bright red to the point where local bulls stormed Auckland’s CBD, eating cars and terrorising small children.

Thanks, brain filter. Really had my back there, didn’t you?

Awkward confession #6 : I was terrified of having these confessions posted online. Terrified. After our first discussion about potentially putting my thoughts into something resembling a piece of writing, it took Sam a good couple of months to actually wheedle it out of me. Even then I kept putting off the inevitable, combing through each post, trying to find any accidental faux-pas, making sure I didn’t come across as a complete tosser. I wanted to be real about my experiences, but I also hate being vulnerable. Even more so, I hate admitting my faults. Each new post was accompanied by gut-churning fear. What if people think I’m weird? What if people think I’m stupid?! What if I’m WRONG?!? What if NO-ONE LIKES ME?!?! WHAT IF EVERYONE THINKS I’M CRAZY?!?!? WHY AM I THINKING IN CAPSLOCK?!?!?! MAYBE I AM CRAZY!!!!!!! AAAAAAH *BRAIN EXPLOSION*

I never quite managed to nail the balance between humility and insecurity. Growing up I always tried to be modest and never, ever, ever compliment myself about anything at all ever. My humility strategy of never acknowledging anything good about myself quickly morphed into feeling like there was nothing worthwhile about me at all. My opinion of myself was solely based on the opinions of those around me. Even if I thought I was rubbish, as long as other people thought I was alright I could still get up in the morning.

Because of this I always sought the approval of others, in particular my parents. I quickly learnt that I got the most praise when I achieved something, so I pushed myself to do everything, be the best, get good grades, all the usual stuff you’ve heard a thousand times before. Woe is me. Unfortunately my parents had set the bar rather high – Head Boy and Head Girl at the same time (a bit cute), captains of the top rugby and netball teams, Dad was dux, Mum won the‘all-rounder’ trophy. They pretty much ticked all the over-achiever boxes. I, however, did not. I always hovered on the cusp of greatness, at the upper end of average but never quite crossing the threshold into true awesomeness. I made the logical-ish assumption that my parents would never be proud of me because I had achieved nothing compared to them. I was a disappointment, a failure.

My obsession with achievement meant I quickly became disillusioned with God. My somewhat skewed interpretation of Christianity led me to believe that anything I was good at I had to give all the credit to God, but all the bad stuff, all my faults were all me. The way I saw it, Christianity taught me that I was just a useless, sinful, unworthy shell and all I could do was hope that God might work in me to do something good. I hated Christianity for taking my achievements away from me. The only thing that gave me value was my achievements, if I couldn’t take credit for them I had nothing. I was nothing.

I hated going to church because I felt like I was surrounded by happy people who had it all together. From what I could see I was the only one who was a mess, so church was ironically where I felt the most lonely. I remember going to a sermon on insecurities where the pastor talked about this amazing girl he used to date. It was the usual story: beautiful girl, kind heart, drives a 2 hour round-trip to volunteer at a youth group every Wednesday, great at sport, sponsors 2 children, intelligent, hard-working, completely perfect in every way. And … dum dum dummm … she was insecure *shocked gasp*. I did NOT see that coming! I sat there thinking ‘I am none of those things… Does that mean I should feel insecure?’

I may or may not have taken things a little too far...

For a start, credit has nothing to do with it. God has given me gifts (at least I hope he has... I’ll have to get back to you on that one). He didn’t give them to me to rub it in that He’s better than me. He didn’t give them to me to make me feel guilty. He didn’t give them to me to make me feel useless. God has given me gifts because He wants me to have them. He gave them to me to make the most of them. My decision to embrace these gifts and pursue the path God wants for me is just as honourable as any achievement I might have along the way.

Humility also isn’t about giving credit. It isn’t about self-deprecation. Humility doesn’t ask us to feel depressed or unworthy. Humility doesn’t diminish our strengths, it merely acknowledges our weaknesses. Humility recognises that we have a need. Humility reminds us that maybe we aren’t the most important person in the universe. Humility is what reigns us in when we have arrogant jack-ass tendencies.

I would love to say I have grown and evolved and my insecurities are like, soooo totally high school. They’re not. From time to time I still have irrational freak-outs worrying that everyone thinks I’m a loser. I still have mornings where I look in the mirror and think I look like a dude. I am still very critical and self-deprecating (a side-effect of living in Australia. Every time I said something stupid I got into the habit of anticipating the response – ‘yes, I know, I suck and so does my country. Thanks guys.’). Saying something good about myself still makes me feel a bit sick. But I have been working very hard to re-train my thoughts to be confident in the person God made me to be.

I am smart-ish and capable and real and, so I’ve been told, “kind of” a babe (was going for“completely”, but what can you do…). I am also incredibly and irrevocably flawed. But it’s not my job to judge myself. When I reach the pearly gates I’m not going to find a note saying “If you really think you’re good enough, come on in. If not please take the door to your left, go down 3 flights of stairs, turn right, knock 3 times on the door saying ‘6H’ and enjoy an eternity in hell. Love, Big JC xoxo” At the end of the day, it’s just not my call. It is my responsibility to discern my sins and repent. I definitely have a lot of weaknesses and I acknowledge the need for God in my life. But it is not my job to punish myself. I punished myself for years and it was paralysing.

I think as a culture we tend towards bringing ourselves down, and quite often we bring others down to our level so that we don’t feel so bad hovering in the undergrowth. Whatever happened to encouragement? Encouragement is AWESOME! We should be encouraging each other all the time. Every time someone gives me a word of encouragement about my writing it makes me want to kiss them (in an on-the-cheek, totally cool and European kind of way). It builds me up and helps contain the cycle of fear that spirals around in the dark patches of my head. I appreciate knowing that I don’t just crack myself up. This is in no way a request for future compliments. Rather, it is a challenge. These blogs have been posted on a public forum so they pretty much automatically ask for a response. But my question to you is this: what are the little things the people around you have been doing that make your day just that little bit brighter? Who in your life could you be encouraging more?

My second, much more difficult question, is what should you be encouraging in YOU? What do you think God values in you? What do you like about yourself? Eeek, I know it’s a bit awkward. But there must be something. Encouragement is important but if you’re stuck in a rut of self-loathing the real change has to happen in you. It starts with whatever is going on inside your head. What are you telling yourself? Even with high-fives and positive affirmation from those around us, our self-talk can be remarkably different to the truth. My suggestion is to take out that ‘I suck’ cassette tape that you’ve been playing on loop and upgrade to the mental iPod of awesomeness. Welcome to the 21^st century, where technology is smarter than you but you’re cool anyway. It’s a world where confidence and arrogance are actually two different things – hence the two different words (a dead giveaway). You can believe in yourself without being excessively superior and self-involved. And let’s be honest, if you do turn into an arrogant prat I’m sure you have a friend who will slap you out of it. If not, I will gladly volunteer my services. I’m good like that.

Growing up is a bit scary, but as we get closer to dropping the ‘young’ and becoming real adults it’s time to make friends with ‘responsibility’. Take responsibility for your mistakes. But also take responsibility for acknowledging and developing your strengths. No matter what you think, they do exist – you just have to find them and believe in them.

Let me put it a different way. The Wright Brothers created the aeroplane. Even if you think they cause too much pollution and the seats in economy don’t have enough leg room, you have to admit that what they created is pretty amazing. When they are going in the right direction and are piloted in the right way they are truly incredible. The Wright Bros themselves were pretty cool dudes (plus Orville had a particularly snazzy moustache) and no-one would insult them by saying their creation is crap.

Well, God created you. Think about it.

Dick's Story

A couple of weeks ago we had the immense privilege of hearing Dick's story of losing his wife and hs response to that. What an inspiration!

Casey's Awkward Confessions: #5

I HATE IT when I’m driving home in the middle of the night from some outrageously awesome party because I’m so cool and popular (i.e. I fell asleep on my parents couch while watching my big fat gypsy wedding) and I get stuck at a red light. And there is not a single car in sight. But I stop at the red light anyway, because years ago some dick named Murphy made up a law that says the one time I drive through a red light at 3am in the morning on a completely empty road, a cop will appear out of nowhere and take all my money. If you ask me, Murphy should have got a hobby and a wife and left the law-making to the professionals.

So I’m sitting at this red light, waiting for no-one, twiddling my thumbs, writing incredibly rude letters in my head to local councils, town planners, the inventor of the traffic light’s grandchildren, President Obama and the Queen complaining about the sheer frustration of sitting at this traffic light. Then, of course, a car drives up. And the light they are driving towards is green. And instead of waiting patiently and gracefully for a red light, like I have been doing for what seems like the past six thousand years, they get to drive straight through. No stopping, no waiting. They don’t have to earn their green light. They just skip straight to the happy ending of reaching their destination in uninterrupted driving merriment.

Awkward confession #5 : sometimes I feel like this whole ‘God has a plan for you’ thing is a myth. All my life the next step has been obvious – finish year 1, move on to year 2; finish high school, go to uni. Everything has been nicely straight-forward and pre-planned. But now some foolish sucker decided it was a good idea to release me into the wild and forgot to give me a map. There are a bajillion jobs in the world and I am expected to find the one thing that I’m good at, that I enjoy and that I’m ‘meant to be doing’?! There are billions of men out there, and I’m supposed to find one that I am compatible with and that I want to marry (or the more difficult task of finding one that wants to marry me). My decisions have far greater impact on the rest of my life, and it’s so much harder to determine what the right decision is.

You know that old saying “man plans, God laughs.” Sometimes I feel like I am God’s personal comedy channel. The number of twists and turns my life has taken would give anyone whiplash, and I have a horrible feeling that I ain’t seen nothing yet. I like to be in control and know where I’m heading, but my picture of what my future is going to be has changed so many times over the years. I was supposed to be living in a different country right now. I was supposed to be a lawyer. I was supposed to be travelling. I was supposed to be a missionary in Cambodia. I was supposed to be famous. I was supposed to be changing the world. I was supposed to be married to a prince (OK, I’ll admit that last one was a long shot).

What gets me is that so many people around me seem to be getting things right. They have their dream jobs, they are marrying their dream boy/girl, they are living the elusive dream. In  a society of ‘do whatever YOU want to make YOU happy right NOW’, I often find myself wondering why is it that everyone else has the green light to skip ahead to their happy ending, while I’m still stuck at the red light wondering when I got left behind?

A little while ago my dream job became available. I was super excited to apply, until I realised I would need to drive for the job. I’ve just been diagnosed with epilepsy which means I’m not allowed to drive for a year. A bit of a fly in the ointment. I was furious. I felt so ripped off. Why couldn’t something just work out? Is it really too much to ask to have my dreams come true now? Why is it that I have to wait in amongst the crap while other people get to be happy? (I will admit, I have spoilt-brat tendencies when I am upset…)

I get so incredibly frustrated when things don’t work out, but at the end of the day who’s to say that if everything went the way I planned my life would actually be better. Or that I would be better for it. The happy ending I pine for wouldn’t be a happy ending at all, it would just be the beginning of a new chapter that would most likely bring with it just as many challenges as the last. When I’m at my most unreasonable I have to make a conscious effort to remind myself of this, to try and contain the spoilt-brat within.

The real challenge is to try and find the path God wants for me. I’ll be honest, I have no idea what that is and my discernment isn’t always trustworthy. There have been times where I’ve got it wrong. I’ve had a lot of road blocks that have sucked, but kept me on the right path in times when I wouldn’t have listened if God had tried to just tell me. So much good has come out of the unexpected. I’ve learnt so much, I’m so much stronger.

The truth is, I don’t know where I’m going. I can’t possibly know where I’m going. If there’s anything I’ve learnt it’s that life is FULL of surprises. Sometimes the surprises are awesome. Sometimes I’m disappointed. Life is a bit of a mixed bag. At times not knowing my future really scares me. The unknown scares me. The possibility that I might get it all wrong scares me. But in general, when I’ve got my head screwed on the right way I can trust that it will all work out one way or another. God’s got my back. Even if I go a mile off in the wrong direction, He will still welcome me home. My discernment will get better. I will get better.

One day, years from now I’m going to be chilling with my 20 cats, leaning on my Zimmer frame having a good old-fashioned LOL about how my life turned out. If the first 23 years are anything to go by, it’s certainly going to be an interesting ride.

In the meantime, I’ll try choosing streets that have roundabouts.