Thursday, June 12, 2008

Memories of Admiration Coming to Life

Memories are interesting things. Do you ever wonder why you remember certain things and forget others?

Something I distinctly remember from my college days was being in the library (undoubtedly doing research on something unrelated to what caught my attention) when I came across a female author's biography. I thought it was Charlotte Bronte, but now that I've read her entry on Wikipedia, I'm thinking it could easily have been someone else. Anyway, I remember that this particular author used a masculine pen-name for her early works. What struck me about her, though, was that she would spend all day caring for her children (who, I believe, were her step-children or perhaps her sibling's children that were left to her upon the death of both parents) and then stay awake late at night writing. I admired her committment to both the children and the writing and imagined myself one day doing the same.

Here I am.

I spent all day today hiking a three-mile trail through a forest, eating lunch around a table with my kids (including my honorary 10-year-old daughter), reading books, wading in a creek, playing on a playground, enjoying a farmers' market, gathering around a table with my entire family for dinner, and both giving and receiving dozens of hugs and kisses. I LOVE my life.

It's now 1:17 a.m. and here I am writing, just like the author I read about in college. That says a lot to me about how we connect with what we admire, how our faith (according to your faith, let it be unto you) plays into our lives, how visualizing ourselves doing the things we want to do is so powerful (any career coach worth keeping will tell you that), and how timing plays a HUGE role in living out our dreams.

Shortly before I graduated from high school (I was 17), I won a national competition with Sonic Drive-In. Competing against tens of thousands of other carhops, I continued to advance to the next level. During one of the final interviews, we were asked something to the effect of, "Where do you see yourself in 10 years? Will you be focused on your career, your education, or your family?" Each girl chose one of the three. When it came time for me to answer, I said, "I want it all. I want to focus on my education now, I want to focus on my career next, and eventually I want to focus on raising a family." Guess what? I have it all.

Granted, I've had to lay down responsibilities as I've found myself in different seasons, but I'm in a constant state of educating myself (I can't help it--I LOVE to learn), I have a fabulous family, and I'm building my own business as well as picking up teaching again in the fall. Truly, I do have it all.

Thank you, God. Thank you thank you thank you. I am so thankful.

I was on my face tonight in the kitchen (literally) thanking God and praising Him and asking him for help and crying out as I felt him continuing to heal my heart of past wounding.

I stopped right in the middle of wiping down the kitchen counter. Moments before, I was remembering a story that Peggy Fitzpatrick, an elder at Grace Center and the epitome of a godly woman, shared about her own mother who would stay up late doing chores in order to spend more quality time with the children during the day--I admired that, too, and found myself thinking about how, again, I have become what I admired. As I cleaned the kitchen, I began to pray to God specifically about my business.

Thinking I needed to be more focused on the Lord, I started to walk into the living room to get comfortable on the couch when I realized I needed to immediately lie down on the floor in worship. I prayed and cried and healed and prayed and cried and healed . . . until I felt release. Then, I stood up and finished cleaning the kitchen. All the while, I was listening to Julie True's excellent new CD Healing Love. It's what we at Grace Center like to call "soaking music." It did me in.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I love it! These are the things that make me so glad to be part of your life. I've got some things I want to share with you when we get time to sit down... You are a treasure.