I was a procrastinator. On any given day, you’d hear me say, “I’m going to do this. I’m going to do that.” But “this and that” never happened on their own.
No matter how much I chided myself, nothing changed.
First plan of attack
I studied the causes of procrastination, talked about it, counseled about it, prayed about it. I tried everything I knew. Still, no change. I needed help.
A life-changing revelation
A tipping point came, one which carried the death and/or heart attack of several close friends, all within a matter of three weeks. One was in her twenties. I was speechless, grieving beyond human capacity, and wondering: what if my end is closer than I know?
As I prayed, I had an encounter with the Lord in which I was reminded that He was the author of my ideas and He was the finisher. He would help me finish.
Was my commitment not dead serious?
I committed (with dead serious intent) to finish what I knew I wanted to do. So, I went away for a few days and set some important, well-thought-out goals for the year. With a deadline set, I created a specific, detailed plan to accomplish these things, using the simple but powerful steps I listed in the next post.
It all went well, right?
Of course not! Exactly a year later, I sat down, more discouraged than ever. I didn’t make any of my goals, which I was so life-changing serious about. All the negative voices of the past pushed to take over. “Told you so. You’ll never make it. Loser!”
Looking back over my shoulder
As I looked back, I realized over half my time that year had been eaten up unexpectedly. I had to take a job, etc., etc., and in the last two months of my goal year, my dog had nine puppies. That meant practically three months learning to help with the birth, vet visits, making puppy baby food, protecting the shivering pups from harsh weather and constant tracking down three escape artists in the litter–and we had a six-foot fence–and shipping the pups to owners. (Plus, all the fun and a backyard full of neighborhood kids and puppy kisses and the Homeowners Association outrage.)
As I nursed my despair on Deadline Day and told myself goals were useless, a still, small voice said, “Make a list of what you did do.” That thought felt so strange. Why should I? I had failed.
I’ll tell you in PART TWO. Why there? I want to honor your time so you can go finish your own goals, and a little birdie told me you only have time to read about 300 words. I’m already past that.
Let me just say, this has a happy ending!