September 28, 2009

What I Do, What I Love, and What I Love to Do...

What is the difference between your job and your hobby? When you do it? How much you get paid for it? How much you love it? How many have combined the two?

Watching a completely boring and disappointing Fame was not a complete waste. I watched people doing what they absolutely loved. They practiced, they practiced, they worked, they worked, they sweat, they sweat, they cried, and they cried... but they loved it. Their hobby became their job. And they loved it.

Here began my thought process: Hmm. I kind of wish I'd stuck with tap-dancing. Tap-dancing is so dorky that it's cool. It would be a great thing to pull out one people when they least expect it. I never practiced though. Too bad. Should've stuck with ballet too... then I wouldn't have to do Weight Watchers now, probably, because I'd be a lithe dancer... but I never practiced. Actually I think Mom has a picture of me pouting in my ballet outfit. Wow, there were a lot of things I never practiced... basketball, tennis, softball. Especially softball. I wouldn't practice at all and thought I was a terrible player... until the end of the season when I'd actually do alright-- only because I'd been forced to practice for three months. Piano-- I hated practicing piano. Probably why I can only play "Canon in D" and "Carol of the Bells." And the flute. I never made it past like, sixth chair out of ten floutists. I played for eight years, which is why I can still carry a tune, but I never practice.

I began to voice these thoughts, and my best friend's husband simply said, "You didn't love those things." He was a good teacher, but he didn't love it. He turned his life upside-down to start doing what he loves-- which meant two more years of school... but he's doing what he loves. His wife DID practice piano and became a superior pianist... because she loves it. And her hobby has somewhat become her job as she became a music teacher/worship leader/drama teacher.

Oh how my thoughts whirled. What do I love? What do I love to do so much that it never feels like practice or work?


So now what? That doesn't mean I don't love my job... but it made me think. It's not enough for me to turn my life upside-down just because I love something. My life is not my own-- it's the Lord's, and my desire is to serve him with my talents. I somehow need to find a way to meld my passions/what I love with the gifts he's given me and what he wants for me.

I'm not a risk-taker. But I'd love to put my foot through a door and have the Lord carry me across the threshold. I would love to put a God-given talent to work and love every minute of it.

And what do you love? What do you do? Do the two intersect?

September 27, 2009

I think this was a poem I wrote for my former roommate's graduation a few years ago. I chickened out though, I think, and painted her something instead. But when I looked over this poem just last week, I liked it. I thought I'd share it with you. It seems harsh, but the title is "My Prayer," and sometimes we have to pray the hard things for our loved ones-- for the purpose of holiness.

"My Prayer"

When you walk across the chasm
Separating student from teacher
Clutching simple parchment
Symbolizing wisdom
May you have humility enough
To know the limitations
Of your wisdom
And the inadequacy
Of your knowledge.

When you walk down the future aisle
Separating single from oneness
Clutching fragrant flowers
Symbolizing unity
May you have unchanging love enough
To know the divisiveness
Of your strong mind
And the vast impurity
Of your own heart.

When you walk hand-in-hand with young ones
Separating youthful from aged
Clutching tiny fingers
Symbolizing blind trust
May you have perfect patience enough
To know the depth of true need
Of your own self
And the immaturity
Of your person.

When you walk towards the lighted gulf
Separating living from dying
Clutching aging life breath
Symbolizing struggle
May you have faithful belief enough
To know the black filthiness
Of your dark sins
And the salvation by grace
Of your own soul.

September 24, 2009

A FEW of My Favorite Things...

While my favorite things are not schnitzel with noodles, girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, or bright copper kettles, I do have many favorites. As I mulled this over in my mind, I came up with a short and by no means complete list:

... crunchy crackers, polka dots, dark and heavy clouds, fresh bread, silhouettes, hints of cinnamon, woodsy smells, being freshly showered, "new" smell, Caprese salad, singing when alone, references to Chicago in songs, big earrings, dark nail polish, a book that engrosses, well-developed characters, skeleton keys, a new idea, clean and cool sheets, lightning, theological conversations, breezes, dim lighting, the smell of coffee, a good sneeze, a pretty cupcake, nice teeth, a blank piece of paper, daily planners...

While compiling this list, I was reminded that "every good and perfect gift comes from above," and I also reminded myself to worship as I enjoy my favorites. I hope you'll do the same today.

September 6, 2009

When Fat Girls Get Thinner...

When you look in the mirror, who do you see? When you think of yourself, who are you?

I am a fat girl.

I am not really a fat girl; I am an average girl... but only just. When a girl has been fat her whole life, it's hard for her to think of herself otherwise. I grew up thinking I was big-boned. It was not unrealistic to think so; after all, I'd always been overweight and tall, and come from "good stock" on my dad's side. Turns out though, I'm not big-boned. I'm normal-boned, and tall. Turns out I have collar bones. Turns out I have cheekbones. Who knew? At any rate, I lost 30 pounds. I had been the same size for about 10 years. And now I'm thinner than I was in middle school. That's a good thing-- I'm healthy, I feel good, I look good. But I am a fat girl.

Most fat girls, no matter how self-confident they are, are insecure. We don't look like girls in the magazines, guys don't look our way, and we get looks of disdain when when we order whatever we want at a restaurant. We are used to and fear rejection. We assume guys won't be interested in us and we'll be the perpetual friend and maybe never the girlfriend. We can't walk into any store we want and wear something cute and stylish. We don't turn heads. When that's the life you're used to, it's not easy to make an adjustment.

I'm a fat girl because I still feel insecure. I feel guilty for ordering what I want at restaurants. I assume guys won't be interested in me and I'll be the perpetual friend and maybe never the girlfriend. I forget that I can walk into any store I want and wear something cute and stylish. Though my outside has changed, my inside remains.

And my question remains: how does a now-thinner fat girl stop being a fat girl?

Apparently, it doesn't matter to my psyche that I have always had the same intelligence, sense of humor, and friendliness. The fat girl thing just kind of consumes, because like it or not, our world has a hard time seeing past the fat to the treasure. And so now that the fat (or much of it) is gone... how evident is the treasure?

fat picture/thinner picture