To some people that may seem old…to others it may seem young. To me it is a number. But it is a number that makes me reflect on what my purpose here on earth has been and more importantly what my purpose will be.
When I turned 50, I determined to set goals and reach them. At 53 I wonder what the hell happened to the last three years and why I am still stuck at 50.
Early morning on the 18th (yesterday now) I prayed to God. I admitted my slothfulness, my proclivity to procrastinate, and the fear that keeps me from moving into my future. I started to make new promises but then I stopped, suddenly seeing that I can talk the talk but fail to follow through with almost anything unless I am forced into a corner and have to do something to save my ass.
Fear, I have come to realize, has been the #1 factor that has paralyzed most of my life.
Fear of my father and his anger. Fear of my school peers and their years of endless taunts and bullying. Fear of being a failure. Fear in not measuring up, being wrong or not good enough, or creative enough. and most importantly the fear of becoming me.
Fear has created doubt, and uncertainty in me, and the inability to take chances, and risks. Fear, as oddly as this may sound, has been my idol and I have sacrificed most of my life to it.
I do not want to get to the end of my life and the only thing that I have left is regret.
Regret because I always took the path of least resistance, and therefore lived most of the past 52 years merely existing. I have not been fair to the people in my life living this way.
I. do. not. want. to. exist. this. way. anymore.
I want to live, really live and experience freedom, fulfillment and the life God has for me. I want nothing more than to let the gifts God granted me to change me and bless others.
As I enter my fifty-third year that is my prayer.