All my strength

I've had a taxing morning. Mondays for the last six months have been blighted by the dreaded driving lessons. Everyone has told me that at some point it will click into place and my confidence will come. Well, yes. But then the next challenge arrives and it feels like square one again. My current nemesis is large roundabouts (shoddy lane discipline on my part, yes, drivers feel free to silently seethe against me. I'm the idiot cutting you up) and dual carriageways. What's even more frustrating is that 99% of the population seem to be fine with this particular skill. The accident I had is always looming in the back of my mind. Right now it all feels insurmountable.

This is further complicated by the fact that for me driving is inextricably linked to the process of going forward for ordination. If I weren't doing that I would be still be happily (ok, well slightly grumpily) walking to work. I need a car for college, for placements, for the next step in my life. When driving is hard (or studying, or leading in church or any other skill I'll need for that matter!) I quickly look up to the looming mountain of responsibility and think – 'if I can't do this, then....?'

When Jesus was asked what the most important part of the law was he said 'Love the Lord your God with all you heart, all your soul, all your mind and all your strength.' (and love your neighbour as yourself, we forget that one easily eh?) To me this means giving the very best of what I have to God and where he is calling me. All my mind to study, all my strength to the journey, all my heart to the process, all my soul in prayer. And arguably all my mind to big roundabouts and all my strength to slip roads.

At the end of today's lesson I ended up in a bit of a heap and uttered those often thought but rarely vocalised words – 'what if I can't do this?' And that's the big fear isn't it? That when you push yourself to the max, using the very best of what you have to offer, then what if it's not enough?

Here lies the comfort of the comfort zone. It's a false comfort really because who wants the wake up call one day that life has passed you by and you've no idea what you've done with it? I don't. And so I find myself somewhere in the middle, with the fear of failure hanging around like a bad smell as I wistfully look back at the comfort zone (ah, what did that felt like again?!) and on the flip-side looking to the future with excitement, pushing the boundaries, sometimes succeeding sometimes not.

Because if you don't push yourself to the limits then you can't really fail. You can always say, 'I didn't really try anyway'. When things go wrong, it's not you it's your circumstances. It's harder to say, 'that was my fault, I'm still learning. I've not go this down yet.' I can see myself saying that so many times over the next few years but it takes such confidence, such strength to say 'that was me' and still believe you can do all the things you know you have to. That is plumbing the depths of strength.

I know I'm not alone. The one who call also equips. (As an aside I actually found myself genuinely jealous that Jesus was born in the time of donkey travel the other day when praying. A donkey on the A40?!)

A novelty donkey picture to lighten the mood. These chaps live at The Donkey Snactuary (http://www.thedonkeysanctuary.org.uk\)

Right now I'm having a wistful look back at the comfort zone, tomorrow will probably look brighter. But that's the journey I suppose, one foot in front of the other. All my strength...