I came across this picture that I think I drew while sitting on a park bench in Seattle. (Speaking of which...Pal, I miss you way way too much.) I don't know that it has a whole heap of a lot to do with what I'm writing about this morning (whatever that is), but I was feelin' it, so here we are.It's funny how quickly my thankful heart turns prodigal. I'm still thankful, but...for some reason all I can get my mind around right now is grabbing a friend (or a knight in shining RV), packing up my life, tossing it into a film-, yarn- and tootsie pop-loaded vehicle, and hitting the road in search of sunshine and untold stories.
Have you ever felt like you're at a fork in the road? Not the kind you face every time you turn around to make a decision, but the kind that will completely sever you and your sheepish pants in two if you don't make up your mind right now? The scariest thing to me is that not deciding is a decision in itself. Passivity is scary. But so is passion. I wish I knew what is right.
I wonder what the prodigal was thinking the night he was packing his things. Did he justify his departure by saying he was not really living life in the safe confines of his father's house? That it was better to seize life while he was young than wait for an inheritance when he was old? Is this me? Because frankly, I'm terrified of the neat little life in the neat little house. Of the 9 to 5. Of the mom who one day says I wish I'd never married. I'm terrified of wasting my gifts. I finally wake up from years of wanting to die, and now I'm terrified I'll sleepwalk through life.
I guess the first test of a prodigal heart is to ask whether I am all about the me and now. God, help me to be wise to myself. Plant me where I'll bear good fruit. Help me when all I see around me is dirt and seeds.
Reading back through, I realize I may sound like a) I am wanting to turn my back on my Father and b) Wifedom and motherhood are hovering in frilly pink ribbons just above my reluctant lap. Neither is true. I'm just not sure where my place in this world is right now.
I'm still thankful for...anyone who actually reads my ranty rambles, Bernice (the cat, not the bakery)'s muffins, lip gloss, senses of humor, genuine diversity, thriftshops, local celebrities, fortune cookies, natural fibers, and sincere hearts.
4 comments:
Oh, deary. Trust Him, even if it seems dumb and stupid and passive. It'll make sense (I hope) one day. And roadtrips are sometimes good. Perhaps they're an external physical ritual to help come to terms with an internal change. Big hugs for you tonight. You're not alone.
I, and most people I know, struggle with wondering what they are doing with their lives. To a large extent, I think we worry too much about it.
I think I can safely say that road trips are nearly always good. And speaking of natural fibers, did you ever use that skein of Angora?
Thank you guys. It's good to know that I'm not quite alone.
About the angora...funny you should ask, Lance. I was just admiring its softness the other day. I have been waiting for the perfect project to come forth to "spend" it on. It's so lovely. I can't wait! Don't worry, the project will surely be posted.
Sunshine and untold stories you have surely found. I hope the TX season of your life will be remembered as a warm one. Love you--- Christy M
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