It's funny how the stirring in your soul starts. Maybe it's a whisper or a soul slamming shout. It starts so differently for all of us at different times of our lives. I struggle with finding purpose beyond my, me my four and no more, lifestyle that had taken shape after being diagnosed with Behcets in 2006. I had learned that I had a full plate being full time sick and full time wife and mother. I withdrew from every activity and responsibility, saying no to so much and turning inward into survival mode. Some circumstances would light the fire of passion within me and I would step out of my comfort zone and do something. Praying, taking pictures, making quilts, and loving on those who needed it and then returning to my comfort zone. The stirring for more got louder and more uncomfortable, like an insatiable thirst being denied.
Searching and knowing that God was in this stirring I did what was convienent and dug in deeper at home. Hoping that was it, but in my gut I knew it wasn't. Days went by and I realized that spotless or not, gourmet or not, that wasn't the more that could begin to satisfy. I am not, and have never been, a domestic goddess. I just want to have a clean(ish) home and well fed children, all the over doing it exhausts me and leaves me wanting, and wanting is exhausting.
I knew in my heart that my gifts, talent, life experience, and personality are shaped by God and that is where I need to focus. Following my interest in antiques and thrifting, I rented a few shelves at the antique store and went on the hunt. I enjoyed the whole process of being a part of the store and meeting the many people that sell there. I found myself searching constantly for the next treasure, finding stuff I never knew I or someone else might need. Time consuming, energy consuming, happy mood inducing stuff... s t u f f . Heart sinking realization, I knew I had made a mistake for my time. The last thing I want said at my funeral is, "Man she could find great stuff.", "She had some neat stuff.", "She left behind a whole lotta stuff." No one that bought something off my shelf at the antique store ever got the message that I cared or was interested in the condition of their soul. I had gotten off balance, I had taken the path of least resistance. I know what I want, the legacy of stuff is not it. I want a legacy of love, faith, compassion, generosity, passion, life.
I look back over the time I spent searching in all the wrong places and I fight the urge to be irritated with myself. I am reminded that there is a season for everything, God works all things together for His good, and these experiences of searching in all the wrong places will be recycled into something more meaningful. Cliche yes, none the less true.
Blessings!
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