Learning to manage my ego!

In March I received an email from a guy in the data industry inviting me to join a small group of guys and girls cycling to Paris in 24 hours in May. My ego immediately replied saying “hell yes!” 24 hour ride to Paris, what a great Facebook post that would be and what a great way to prove the doubters wrong! I signed up entirely for the wrong reason …….

I am hugely grateful to God that over the last couple of months I have come to understand that most of the decisions I make (made) are made by the 12 year old me! The small boy that still lives on the inside of me and because he is 12 he does not make great decisions because he does not really understand much about life and his reference points are no longer important. He makes decisions to prove other people wrong and to seek worthiness. These decisions are made for reasons like ………..

Always been picked last when sides were chosen for football in PE or the playground – I wonder if the now 41 year old team captains could ride their bikes to Paris in 24 hours? Or my history teacher in year 8 who shouted across the class room “Paul Kemshell why are you so lazy?” 12 year old dyslexics are never lazy they are just trying to come to terms with the fact their brains are wired differently – The 41 year old me even though he has run a multi million pound revenue business for a number of years still does not have the first clue when you use the word “where” or “were” – I wonder if my history teacher would still call me lazy when I arrive at the Eiffel Tower? Or the small group of school bullies who beat me up on an almost daily basis and the wider group of kids that called me “spastic” because I had to wear hideous orthopedic shoes made at the hospital because of my deformed ankle, do you fancy riding to Paris on Friday guys? I was the most uncool kid in school and even had to wait to the age of 22 to have the courage to kiss a girl.

So many of the decisions made since being 12 years old have been made to prove these people wrong, and the original motive for riding to Paris was just yet another one! So much unresolved hurt has been carried into romantic relationships and friendships alike, and innocent people have been hurt by my abrasiveness.

At 4:30am next Saturday morning deep in the Normandy countryside I will be riding my bike in the dark with guys that are turning their pedals because they are talented or because they are super fit. That will not be me and I will not really be enjoying myself excepting the fact that I know I will be deploying the gift that God has given me never to give up and just to keep going. It will be tough, because since doing the IronMan in Bolton in July last year I have only ridden my bike 5 times and only covered 192 miles! I think my bum or as a good friend of mine says “sweet cheeks” might well hurt.

Next Saturday evening I am going to drink a glass of Champagne and celebrate for the first time in nearly 30 years I now know I have absolutely nothing to prove to anyone and that the group of people that love me will not think any more or any less of me if I make it to Paris in 24 hours or not and that I am loveable just the way that I am.

Today is a new day, to be lived in a new way.