While my wife and I were in Europe over the last school holidays we did something which we always find a challenge - we hired a car.
Of course, the major challenge for an Australian driving in Europe is that you need to drive on the opposite side of the road.
Thankfully, after a few days we both adjusted (even if I did routinely turn on the windscreen wipers when I intended to indicate a turn), but the first few hours were hairy for both driver and passenger.
Everything was just a little more difficult.
Everything required just a lot more concentration.
Because everything was unfamiliar.
Whenever you do something new, or for the first time in a long while, everything takes a while to fall into place.
It’s true for driving.
It’s true for teaching.
It’s true for preaching.
It takes a while for your body to acclimatise to the rigours of a new activity.
But the place I most encounter this is whenever I ride a bike.
Frankly, I’m not brilliant on a bicycle.
I can ride, but I only ever do so sporadically - and usually in Europe.
This last time, my body reminded me that I was not acclimatised to the physical toll that the task would bring.
But, no matter if it is driving on the right side of the road, riding in the saddle, in the classroom or at the pulpit, there are consequences of unfamiliarity.
Everything is more pronounced.
Small things are off-putting.
You lack the ability to look far ahead.
You overly rely upon expert advice.
You require greater preparation.
You’re more drained after the activity.
Every stage is prolonged.
No matter what it is, but especially in the areas of teaching and preaching, new practitioners must be warned about the snares of unfamiliarity.
This is especially true if they are used to watching experienced veterans.
For, as it takes more time to get ready, you get rocked by the unexpected and you lack the foresight to see trouble approaching, you need a gentle reminder that your mind and body will acclimatise.
No comments:
Post a Comment