Dithering and swithering

I am not a decisive person.  In fact, you could say that indecision is one of my most persistent and frustrating flaws: from the superficial to the crucial, I am terrible at making my mind up.

For example, it always takes me just a few minutes too long to answer my husband when he asks me what I want for supper.  I end up asking the hairdresser to decide on my hair-cut, sometimes with disappointing results – “I’ll trust your judgement” I always say, after stalling to the point of stupidity: I mean, it’s not as if I haven’t had at least a week to consider it!  Saturdays pose a particular challenge; wanting to make the weekend count collides with a plethora of considerations about the weather, the children, the distance, the time, what I’m in the mood for, what will make the most people happy…After giving up, and bowing to Ryan’s decisiveness, I proceed to complain all day about the choices he was forced to make.  Good times.  It’s just as well the photographs don’t portray the constant monotones of my voiced conviction that we could have done something better.  What would that have been?  I can never decide.

Carrying my indecision from the trivial to the significant, it ceases to be a laughable weakness, and dances dangerously close to the tragic.  There are things that I think I might love to do in my life, but many have passed me by as I took too long weighing up the pros and cons.  I am very glad I live in the age of lifelong learning, and not during the time of ‘one career for life’!

With indecision, comes regret, and the fear that opportunities have passed me by.  But I am mostly hopeful that my meandering way will eventually get me to a destination that I’m made for.  Where does this hope lie?  Not in myself, and all my flitting from one idea to another: in the only sure, unchanging Truth there is – in the Author and Perfecter of our faith.  One of the few decisions I have made without hesitation was to follow this certainty.  And with that one, there will no regrets.

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