Today's blog is a culmination of the last 24 hours. I started writing my 500 words last night. As you will soon see, it started as a brainstorm of what I was thinking and feeling. I just couldn't find the thread to tie it all together...
There is a wave on the sand. As surely as it rolls it in, it rolls out. I can't stop it. I can only accept and embrace its rhythm. If I focus on the steady flow, it calms me. If I try to stop it, catch it or interfere in anyway, stress and frustration well within me as I chase the impossible.
Playing in the bathtub with a child. That slippery soap that pops out of your hand as soon as you squeeze. And, yet, applying no pressure leaves it lying in your hand.
The Proverbial butterfly that lands on your shoulder when you stop chasing.
I breathe in and breathe out. My mind rests and the words come. Panic blocks thinking. Resting brings insight. Sleepless nights yield unproductive days. A full night's rest sharpens the senses.
So, why do I struggle and stress over things I cannot control? Why do I strive for the impossible? Why do I yearn for those things that require a 12-16 hour day? Why do I stress when I am supposed to rest?
I read a fantastic quote today, "The things that you are passionate about are not random, they are your calling."
(The above was all written before any of what follows actually happened.)
After I put the computer to bed, I messaged my friend, Robin Stanley, on Facebook. She asked me (as I should have known she would), "How can I pray for your heart?" And, so I complained about not being passionate about my work, despite my success and my appreciation for my employer. And, she suggested (as only she could) that perhaps I was working excessively to drown out my heart cries. Yep. I think she might have something there.
She continued to say that perhaps I am a workaholic because, in fact, work has been "my survival" -- or perhaps more accurately, my escape -- for a long time. And, in fact, I am trying to escape the power of the desires that God has placed inside of me. Even more, perhaps I am driven to work out of fear. Whoa. Yep. I think she was handpicked by God, last night, to give me a swift kick in the butt.
None of this means that I am quitting my job and running off to chase my dreams. But, I don't want to be driven by fear. Rather, it is time for me listen to the passions of my heart and use them in concert with my head and God's word. It is time to be intentional about the listening and the waiting.
479 words, 24 hours