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Writing these blog posts have really become this guilty pleasure of mine.  What greater indulgence than one’s own thoughts?  Anyway today I’ll be telling all of you about something that I am afraid of.

I remember living in my old house and being scared to death of the dark.  Not enough to make my parents get a night light.  (Do you really think my parents would have been okay with me wasting electricity on that thing, doubtful) But enough where some nights I would watch the shadows and cringe under my sheets, only nights I couldn’t really sleep to begin with.

Up until I was maybe five or six my brother and I slept in the same bed every night.  Our actual bedrooms were on the second story of the house but my mother wanted to make sure we were safe.  So we both slept in the guest room next to their bed.  Sometimes with my grandma. So you see, I didn’t really ever have to be afraid.  Because my big brother was sleeping right there next to me.

Luckily I am no longer afraid of the dark.  Thank God because now I have my own bedroom.  But I’m afraid of something much larger than lurking creatures that could kill me in the depths of night.  I’m afraid of failing.

I’m so afraid of failing.  Because even though I would love to believe that anyone is capable of anything, I struggle to realize that this isn’t always true.  This isn’t really all to realistic either.  I do believe that everyone holds their own unique talent which they can excel at when given the proper attention.

I’m just afraid that I haven’t realized what this talent is and I’m actually wasting away precious time doing something I cannot succeed at.  But luckily, I serve a God who can do the impossible.  So why can’t he work in me too?

I’m afraid of college and what it means if I struggle.  I’m afraid of trying my hardest and still doing poorly.  I’m afraid of pouring my heart in something, learning it was all in vain.