True Bravery
In 2007, I signed up for a 3 hour guided tour through a black water cave. For those of you who don't know what that means, basically 3 hours trudging and floating through a series of caves, some filled with ponds of water, some just with small streams. It was awesome. It was a bit scary, particularly the bit where we had to jump backwards, off a 6 foot cliff, into the water below landing inside our inner tube (e.g. sitting down).
In 2009, last year, I went to NZ again. This time I went on a giant swing. The swing was very high. And they basically drop you 135m. It was scary. But I enjoyed it so much, I did it again, backwards.
On the weekend, I went diving at Shelly Beach, near Manly. We swam out about 100m off the cliffs at the eastern side, and were down about 8m. We saw about 12 Port Jackson sharks. They were so unbelievably beautiful. I wasn't actually scared at all. Oh, well, ok. I was a little bit when one shark swam a bit towards me.
Last year my life fell apart. And turning up for work each day required both a huge effort of will, and deep courage. I came through, but that was harder and more difficult than any of the above things.
So friends, many would say that I have courage. And maybe I do. Or maybe I just enjoy taking calculated risks.
So tonight, I went out to the freezer which I have to keep outside because there's no room inside, and on the front of the freezer was a giant huntsman. To be fair, it wasn't the largest huntsman I've seen - probably about 5cm across from leg to leg (shiver) - but it was still icky. I squealed, goose bumped, and went back inside.
And got my shoe. And went out again. And smooshed that horrible spider against the freezer. Now my freezer has smooshed huntsman innards on it.
That is real courage. Knowing it's scary. Knowing that you don't want to do it. Knowing that it needs to be done.
Kind of like Jesus on the cross really.
In 2009, last year, I went to NZ again. This time I went on a giant swing. The swing was very high. And they basically drop you 135m. It was scary. But I enjoyed it so much, I did it again, backwards.
On the weekend, I went diving at Shelly Beach, near Manly. We swam out about 100m off the cliffs at the eastern side, and were down about 8m. We saw about 12 Port Jackson sharks. They were so unbelievably beautiful. I wasn't actually scared at all. Oh, well, ok. I was a little bit when one shark swam a bit towards me.
Last year my life fell apart. And turning up for work each day required both a huge effort of will, and deep courage. I came through, but that was harder and more difficult than any of the above things.
So friends, many would say that I have courage. And maybe I do. Or maybe I just enjoy taking calculated risks.
So tonight, I went out to the freezer which I have to keep outside because there's no room inside, and on the front of the freezer was a giant huntsman. To be fair, it wasn't the largest huntsman I've seen - probably about 5cm across from leg to leg (shiver) - but it was still icky. I squealed, goose bumped, and went back inside.
And got my shoe. And went out again. And smooshed that horrible spider against the freezer. Now my freezer has smooshed huntsman innards on it.
That is real courage. Knowing it's scary. Knowing that you don't want to do it. Knowing that it needs to be done.
Kind of like Jesus on the cross really.
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