What would I do?

Hello, God.

As you know, underneath my glass of wine, there's a coaster that reads:

'What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?'

It made me think. I stood in the shop with it in my hand and wondered.  What would I do?

I decided to bring it home to sit next to me as I taptaptap at the computer. As I potter round the kitchen. Lord. 

It's my prayer.

It fills my head with ideas and, strangely, empties it at the same time. Part of me lights up with the thrill of enormous potential and another part of me pales at the idea that I might actually ever have the courage to do something big and dramatic. 

What would I do?  What would you like me to do?

What are you waiting for me to do? 

It's the 'playing small' thing again. What have you made me to do? What am I called to do? 

What could I do if I could open an instruction manual and find the chapter I'm on at this stage of my life, and then (for once) follow the Maker's instructions? What Plan do you have for me, that you're waiting to bless if only I were brave enough to trust and obey and do it? 

I fear failure to such a degree that often I don't try to do anything in case it goes wrong. Over the years I've had a go at things, established that I'm not very good at them and given up.  I have the desire either to do something perfectly, or not at all and that's sometimes a bit of a handicap.

 There are games I won't play because I hate coming last. I am quite sure that I'd never be any good at skiing; I have a strong suspicion that I'll go to my grave never having had a go. (And that's just fine). The idea of potholing fills me with terror, so I'm downright sure that I'll never give that a try. I doubt that you'd ask me to. Not even as a joke.

I don't think you want me to try to be an Olympic skier. Or an award winning potholer (do potholers compete? Is it a sport or a hobby? How little I know). 

What I do believe is that you have built me, programmed me and sent me out into this world with something in mind. To do something. I am your child, I live because of you and I live for you. So the thing you want me to do is for your glory.

That's ok by me.

I am ok if I am never famous. I'm ok if nobody ever knows it was me that did this thing. You will know. 

It doesn't bother me if it doesn't make me rich. I don't even care if nobody ever notices.

You'll notice. You will know. And the equation will be balanced. 

Me+the equipment you have given me= whatever it was that you wanted me to do.

The thing is that even at the simple things I keep trying and failing. Just to live the life you want me to live day to day often seems to be beyond me. It's a good job I don't have to reach a certain level of holiness before I can approach you; I know that this is why Jesus died for me.  I am not lost because of my failures - I can have a relationship with you instead of being so grubbily inferior that you can't allow me into your presence. What he did cleared the way and now I am your child.

Many days just putting one foot in front of the other is an enormous challenge. Doing something amazing? I can but dream.

But you ask me to dream. I'm supposed to. I'm created to dream. 

What would I attempt to do if I knew I could not fail? The same thing that I keep trying to do in my stumbling, trudging, limping sort of way.

I would do your will.