Five Hours Later: It’s a Tech Thing

 I started a reel ad on Canva.

(Not an advert for Canva. Me and tech are currently in a trial separation.)

I mean — how hard can it be?

Image. Music. Words. Colours.

This is not brain surgery. Though if it was, I’d still appreciate a manual.

Five and a half hours later I’ve lost audio, lost synchronisation, watched one page delete the next, and discovered that my AI assistant needs more assistance than I thought I needed.

I am now questioning my life choices, my calling, and whether I should live off-grid with no Wi-Fi and a typewriter.

I remember during my degree saying,

“Is it just me, or is no one else completely panicking about this?”

Tabitha smiled and said,

“No, Samantha. We’re all panicking.”

“You just… do a very good job of expressing it for us.”

I feel like Rose in Titanic:

“It’s been 85 years… and I can still see the cog spinning.”

This is the mess in the middle.

The bit no one posts. The bit where you’re trying very hard to be a grown adult while also internally bracing yourself and wondering how something so small has taken over your entire day.

I remember why I’m doing this — which is the only reason I’m still here, pressing on to the promise that I will become all He created me to be.

So what if the current version of me looks like a sleep-deprived raccoon with a thousand-yard stare, waiting for the computer to respond? I’ll just blend in. Perfectly normal behaviour.

There’s a gap between who I’m called to be and who I am when technology stops cooperating.

I do the things I don’t want to do and don’t do the things I know I should, like remaining calm, emotionally regulated, or particularly dignified.

I didn’t avoid tech because I couldn’t learn it.

I avoided it because it reveals things about me I’d rather not meet unsupervised.

Zeb now has that look that says, “I love you… but I’m not getting involved.”

It’s a fight between “what if I’m not good enough?”

and “get a grip — you cannot let fear win over a reel.”

I keep going anyway.

Not because I’m calm —

but because I remember why I started.

I started this because I wanted to create moments — space for others to pause, reflect, and be present. A small, intentional place for a meaningful moment, wherever that happens to be.

I created the blog to let the creativity in me breathe, and to connect — honestly — with others along the way.

I created it without needing to define exactly what it will become, trusting it to grow into whatever it’s meant to be, in obedience to the calling placed on my life.

Of course, the flesh had opinions.

So, in perfect obtuseness, I did it anyway — my inner critic can remain unelected.

The journal that came out of this season is here, if you’d like to take a look: here