Life doesn't always turn out the way we planned does it? I know that I never planned on living in Waco, or Texas for that matter. I never planned on coming close to my third year at Target. I never planned on being 26 and still wondering what I am doing with my life. But what was it that I did plan on?
Comparison is truly the worst evil there is, at least in my own life. This evil has kept me from auditioning for plays , from sharing my dreams and ambitions with friends, from leading worship, from writing, from sharing my story. A good friend of mine wrote recently that you only accomplish if you do. I know that is why I am still sitting here with an ache inside my heart to share my story, to speak in front of a crowd because I stopped doing. Shouldn't the knowledge that a friend and myself share the same dream be an encouragement, that we could spur one another on? Instead its like a dead weight in the pit of my stomach and I hear the voice, "Your dream to be a writer, to be a public speaker is worthless because you can't put words together like that...and you don't want to be thought of as a copy-cat." I know these are lies, I know these are lies because the dream to be writer has always been in me. But why do I always feel the same way? Why do I always wonder..."Am I even good enough?"
I am my own dream killer. Somewhere down the road I started believing that to dream for the far fetched things of this world are just that...far fetched. I didn't want to be the girl with her head stuck in the clouds, always fantasizing about what she could become. I soon believed this "fact" about myself...I was merely average. I was smart but I had friends who were smarter and didn't even have to try. I was talented but my talent was overshadowed by ones with more talent. Things that I had wanted, things that I worked for it always seemed other people got to live them out.
I know the truth about myself, I know that I am a daughter of the Risen King. I know that I am His beloved, 'fearfully and wonderfully made', I know that He has gifted me and I know that I am used by Him for His purpose. Jesus has put in me, not an 'average' testimony but a mighty powerful one. I know the truth. I know that I am blessed. I have an amazing husband who I can't believe I get to wake up next to every morning. I know that I am surrounded by many single women who long to be married, to be cherished by a man the way I am by my husband. I know that I am blessed to have been born into the family I was born into, to have a mom and dad, brother and sister-in-law, grandparents, aunts and uncles and cousins that I do. I am a mighty blessed woman. I know all of this. I know that my time at Target is where God is using me for this time. I know that I am suppose to be the size I am with the hair that I have. I know that I am not just average. But even in the mist of all of that...I still long.
I want my story to matter to someone. I want my words to be read by someone and to have them change her life. I want to feel once again the Holy Spirit truly pulsating through me as I stand in front of a microphone, looking out onto a crowd and listen as a hush falls over the room as words pour from my mouth. To see tears gleam in eyes, to know that what I have done and the forgiveness that followed helped heal wounds.
I long to not feel inadequate when I have to use a different word because I can't figure out how to spell the word I truly want to use and I can't even get close enough to the spelling for spell check to figure it out for me. I long to know the words to every classic piece of literature. I long to string together sentences that are worth publishing and not even worth publishing but worth reading. I desire to understand grammar and to know how to use it correctly. How about this for a deal...you tell me how to not use the passive voice (and why its so wrong) and I'll tell you how to make my spaghetti sauce...
As I sit eating a gooey sugar cookie and try to come up with a great metaphor for the healing power these words have had (there's that blessed passive voice....) on my soul I think about the grand scheme of things. I am reminded of this puzzle my mom once put together. Once put together it was a picture of Winnie the Pooh but if you look closely each piece is a scene from the stories. Even though my mom had a hard time putting the puzzle together because there was no, these are clearly the "water pieces" and here are the "land pieces" but I remember her telling me that it wasn't just about getting the puzzle finished. For her each piece told her a story. Now how cliche am I being...and in writing I know I am not a huge fan of reading cliche after cliche but bear with me. If I think about my life, about my dreams, about the things that I have done and blessings I have as fun little pieces that tell a story and not just another nail in the board....maybe the wait to see the finished "Winnie the Pooh" won't be so hard. Or maybe this last paragraph is just a bunch of rambling and my way of trying to finish with some profound thought when in reality I really just want to eat my cookie and watch "Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives"
Writing tonight has reminded me of how it is my friend...my healing friend who comes and brings a soothing to my aching muscles and healing to my broken dreams.
(there you go...my beautiful metaphor.....now my cookie!)
