16/02: Find Your Passion
Category: Encouragement For Life
Posted by: wingnut
My life’s journey has taught me a lot about myself that I’d love to have known back in high school. For one thing, the driving force behind my most enthusiastic endeavors has nothing to do with the ideals I thought I had. However, I find that my most passionate efforts include all the same ingredients that kept me intrigued thirty years ago.
So why didn’t I pursue the careers that kept those tasks I enjoyed so much? Stupidity and impatience. If I had known what questions to ask myself and how to answer them for myself I would have finished the right degree program in college instead of bouncing from one game plan to another before giving up and making a not-so-graceful exit from student life.
Today I find myself working at a job I’d never thought I’d enjoy. I do tasks I actually hate. But I enjoy the job. Why? Because the essence of doing the job well allows me to interact with people in doses, then retreat to my own thoughts (although this routine does not occur by my timing or design).
My previous three jobs required a lot more of the creative process that I truly enjoy, but gave me little to no control how to use what I was so good at. As a result I’d leave work at the end of the day depleted of energy or desire to work on any creative project at home.
Because my current job requires very little of my creative brainpower, I have room in there to ponder at work the ideas I want to tackle at home. I have full control over each project I wish to try and the only deadlines are those I set upon myself. What freedom!
Such is my motivating force for writing, crafts, web design, music, and all those many things I try to master on my own time. This leads to the relationship side of the passion/priority coin.
How passionate am I to develop and nurture my relationship with my God, husband, children and friends? How devoted am I to nurturing those characteristics within me that will keep me “good” and moving forward to maturity?
One day I’ll finish this path and pass my baton to someone else. Then I’ll have to account for how well I traveled the course charted for me. If I’m graded on how passionately I made that journey, I have to wonder if I pass.
What about you?
So why didn’t I pursue the careers that kept those tasks I enjoyed so much? Stupidity and impatience. If I had known what questions to ask myself and how to answer them for myself I would have finished the right degree program in college instead of bouncing from one game plan to another before giving up and making a not-so-graceful exit from student life.
Today I find myself working at a job I’d never thought I’d enjoy. I do tasks I actually hate. But I enjoy the job. Why? Because the essence of doing the job well allows me to interact with people in doses, then retreat to my own thoughts (although this routine does not occur by my timing or design).
My previous three jobs required a lot more of the creative process that I truly enjoy, but gave me little to no control how to use what I was so good at. As a result I’d leave work at the end of the day depleted of energy or desire to work on any creative project at home.
Because my current job requires very little of my creative brainpower, I have room in there to ponder at work the ideas I want to tackle at home. I have full control over each project I wish to try and the only deadlines are those I set upon myself. What freedom!
Such is my motivating force for writing, crafts, web design, music, and all those many things I try to master on my own time. This leads to the relationship side of the passion/priority coin.
How passionate am I to develop and nurture my relationship with my God, husband, children and friends? How devoted am I to nurturing those characteristics within me that will keep me “good” and moving forward to maturity?
One day I’ll finish this path and pass my baton to someone else. Then I’ll have to account for how well I traveled the course charted for me. If I’m graded on how passionately I made that journey, I have to wonder if I pass.
What about you?
01/02: The Man in the Mirror
Category: Encouragement For Life
Posted by: wingnut
In 1987/88 I went through training for a new career in the military—hearing this song each morning as my unit prepared the barracks for inspections before going to class.
What a profound theme it was, yet 20 years later, here we are in the same mess. For all the pomp and circumstance, for all the hoopla about this cause, that cause, and the plight of the endangered seal, the world is no better than it was then.
How frustrating it is to see the issues so important to each of us debated to infinity with no resolutions in sight. So frustrating because, no matter how hard I try I can’t change the whole world. Neither can you.
Guess what! We aren’t supposed to. We aren’t supposed to change one another. Yet it seems that instead of quietly changing within—instead of working on ourselves and our circle of influence for the better—instead of leading by example (as my sergeants would say), we preach, teach, and pontificate.
This world doesn’t need pontification—but a hand. It doesn’t need a lecture---but a prayer. It doesn’t need a “told you so—“ but a “how can I help you make it better for you?”
These changes don’t happen through talking on the highways and byways. They happen in the shower---when you scrub your attitude as you wash your hair. These changes happen when you consider a positive action you can take today---not for the world, but for one person. The first person is you. Then you help your neighbor in need, or their neighbor, and so on.
The world doesn’t need more religion. It needs more faith. It needs more people who will step in front of the mirror and say, “I’m going to change myself for the better today—and I’ll help one other person while I’m at it.”
If I did that---if you did that---together we would change the world---one mirror at a time.
What a profound theme it was, yet 20 years later, here we are in the same mess. For all the pomp and circumstance, for all the hoopla about this cause, that cause, and the plight of the endangered seal, the world is no better than it was then.
How frustrating it is to see the issues so important to each of us debated to infinity with no resolutions in sight. So frustrating because, no matter how hard I try I can’t change the whole world. Neither can you.
Guess what! We aren’t supposed to. We aren’t supposed to change one another. Yet it seems that instead of quietly changing within—instead of working on ourselves and our circle of influence for the better—instead of leading by example (as my sergeants would say), we preach, teach, and pontificate.
This world doesn’t need pontification—but a hand. It doesn’t need a lecture---but a prayer. It doesn’t need a “told you so—“ but a “how can I help you make it better for you?”
These changes don’t happen through talking on the highways and byways. They happen in the shower---when you scrub your attitude as you wash your hair. These changes happen when you consider a positive action you can take today---not for the world, but for one person. The first person is you. Then you help your neighbor in need, or their neighbor, and so on.
The world doesn’t need more religion. It needs more faith. It needs more people who will step in front of the mirror and say, “I’m going to change myself for the better today—and I’ll help one other person while I’m at it.”
If I did that---if you did that---together we would change the world---one mirror at a time.
25/01: The Wonder of Forgiveness
Category: Encouragement For Life
Posted by: wingnut
*Note: Backdated to original post.*
"You had to be a Hot Shot!"¯
I don't remember what events led to my saying that, or even what we had done during the morning before--only that it was playing on the radio, and the look I shared as I sang it meant something--the most horrible private joke that any "friend" could say to another.
"Ouch, Wanda, that really hurt," my best friend replied. The dagger I had flung turned around and slid deep, cutting to my core. How could I be so horrid, so cruel?
Later that day I was able to look my true friend in the eye, and apologize with utmost sincerity. I admitted how heartless I had been to say such a thing, and that the rift I had caused hurt me as much as what Iā€™d said and done had hurt her.
"Forvigen!"¯ she immediately said, and we hugged.
Afterwards, there were times when other friends let her down, but I tried my best not to be one of them. I wish I could say that about my ultimate best friendship with God. How often I do, think, or say something hurtful to someone H e created, someone He cares about. And this is the same as doing or saying this to Him.
Still, when I'm ready to come forward and admit I messed up, when I apologize from the bottom of my heart and do everything in my power to "make right," God always says "Forgiven!" immediately, and takes me back into His arms. The most awesome part about this friendship is that it has no limit. If I mess up, I can go back to the fountain of forgiveness and be renewed again.
"You had to be a Hot Shot!"¯
I don't remember what events led to my saying that, or even what we had done during the morning before--only that it was playing on the radio, and the look I shared as I sang it meant something--the most horrible private joke that any "friend" could say to another.
"Ouch, Wanda, that really hurt," my best friend replied. The dagger I had flung turned around and slid deep, cutting to my core. How could I be so horrid, so cruel?
Later that day I was able to look my true friend in the eye, and apologize with utmost sincerity. I admitted how heartless I had been to say such a thing, and that the rift I had caused hurt me as much as what Iā€™d said and done had hurt her.
"Forvigen!"¯ she immediately said, and we hugged.
Afterwards, there were times when other friends let her down, but I tried my best not to be one of them. I wish I could say that about my ultimate best friendship with God. How often I do, think, or say something hurtful to someone H e created, someone He cares about. And this is the same as doing or saying this to Him.
Still, when I'm ready to come forward and admit I messed up, when I apologize from the bottom of my heart and do everything in my power to "make right," God always says "Forgiven!" immediately, and takes me back into His arms. The most awesome part about this friendship is that it has no limit. If I mess up, I can go back to the fountain of forgiveness and be renewed again.
Category: Encouragement For Life
Posted by: wingnut
*Note: Backdated to that of original post*
Welcome to my brand new blog with a hint of lemon fresh scent. If you have already looked at yesterday’s entry where I posted the lineup, you probably noticed that I’m very likely to be more serious on Sunday entries while not very serious the remaining six days. Today is serious, but not depressing.
First of all, let me introduce myself. I have very extreme and firm belief in a God who designed everything in the world. You don’t have to agree, but if you don’t open your mind to the possibility of how this might work, you will likely miss the whole point of this blog.
Because I believe that the same God who created the universe and everything in it had a specific idea with me in mind, He began far back in my family tree. I don’t know how far back, but let’s say it began with the young couple who escaped from France to Amsterdam and got married at the turn of the 1700’s. They had a son who came to America, met a girl in Pennsylvania Dutch country, and so on. That line met with another line in my tree in Kansas. A young couple from Kansas married and moved to Oklahoma. My father was born and raised, then landed at seminary in California where he studied to become a missionary.
Meanwhile, another branch of the tree was forming with a couple that met and married in Kansas where my maternal grandmother was born. That family moved to California where she met my grandfather, who came to California from Utah. They married and had my mother. She grew up and prepared to be a missionary by way of the seminary where she met my father.
Momma and Daddy fell in love, got married, and had my brother. Each of them failed to meet some physical requirement set by the mission board. Instead, my dad became a bi-vocational preacher who worked a lot of government jobs. As a result, I was born to a family with very specific beliefs, a lot of musical talent tootling from every branch, and a strong desire to present whatever I have to say. See, it runs in the family.
I see this fabric woven from 1700, through the 1800’s, and still see the changing prism at work in my children today. I’m overwhelmed by the realization of all the opportunities I had growing up in too many places to set roots, where I went to school with people of different skin color and cultures, where I learned a different point of view. If that wasn’t a total custom-crafting, then what was it?
I choose to believe that God chose what physical, emotional, and intellectual characteristics I would have, and chose where in the family line to put me. But it didn’t stop there. He also recorded each detail from my conception and formation in my mother’s belly to how long it would take my hair to turn gray. Then he laid out the plan for what hardships I’d endure, what blessings to provide me, and when I’d have children. He also gave me a purpose and responsibility—to bloom where I’m planted, to teach my children to grow up responsibly, to be godly, and to do what is right (no matter who is looking).
Each Thursday, you will hopefully read a very interesting story about how I tormented my mother, what pranks I played at school, the trouble I instigated with my best friends, and whatever else comes to mind that I can share in the most hilarious manner. Therefore it wouldn’t behoove me to hypocritically share what a wonderful job I’ve done being a true reflection of Christ everywhere I go, or how great I did making the right choices all the time, or how perfect a mother I’ve been.
But I can share this: no matter how well or poorly I ran the course provided me, there was always a set of eyes on me, encouragement cheering me through even the roughest spots (even when I chose not to hear them), and the ecstatic look of God grinning ear to ear each time I did well. To this day, I can honestly say that no matter what, I know that God is thinking of me even when I am not thinking of Him. As the third point of this morning’s sermon, it truly encouraged me to know that God still thinks of me, protects me, and shows extreme concern for me every second of every day.
Surely this means that I am very special in the most precious way possible. So are you.
Welcome to my brand new blog with a hint of lemon fresh scent. If you have already looked at yesterday’s entry where I posted the lineup, you probably noticed that I’m very likely to be more serious on Sunday entries while not very serious the remaining six days. Today is serious, but not depressing.
First of all, let me introduce myself. I have very extreme and firm belief in a God who designed everything in the world. You don’t have to agree, but if you don’t open your mind to the possibility of how this might work, you will likely miss the whole point of this blog.
Because I believe that the same God who created the universe and everything in it had a specific idea with me in mind, He began far back in my family tree. I don’t know how far back, but let’s say it began with the young couple who escaped from France to Amsterdam and got married at the turn of the 1700’s. They had a son who came to America, met a girl in Pennsylvania Dutch country, and so on. That line met with another line in my tree in Kansas. A young couple from Kansas married and moved to Oklahoma. My father was born and raised, then landed at seminary in California where he studied to become a missionary.
Meanwhile, another branch of the tree was forming with a couple that met and married in Kansas where my maternal grandmother was born. That family moved to California where she met my grandfather, who came to California from Utah. They married and had my mother. She grew up and prepared to be a missionary by way of the seminary where she met my father.
Momma and Daddy fell in love, got married, and had my brother. Each of them failed to meet some physical requirement set by the mission board. Instead, my dad became a bi-vocational preacher who worked a lot of government jobs. As a result, I was born to a family with very specific beliefs, a lot of musical talent tootling from every branch, and a strong desire to present whatever I have to say. See, it runs in the family.
I see this fabric woven from 1700, through the 1800’s, and still see the changing prism at work in my children today. I’m overwhelmed by the realization of all the opportunities I had growing up in too many places to set roots, where I went to school with people of different skin color and cultures, where I learned a different point of view. If that wasn’t a total custom-crafting, then what was it?
I choose to believe that God chose what physical, emotional, and intellectual characteristics I would have, and chose where in the family line to put me. But it didn’t stop there. He also recorded each detail from my conception and formation in my mother’s belly to how long it would take my hair to turn gray. Then he laid out the plan for what hardships I’d endure, what blessings to provide me, and when I’d have children. He also gave me a purpose and responsibility—to bloom where I’m planted, to teach my children to grow up responsibly, to be godly, and to do what is right (no matter who is looking).
Each Thursday, you will hopefully read a very interesting story about how I tormented my mother, what pranks I played at school, the trouble I instigated with my best friends, and whatever else comes to mind that I can share in the most hilarious manner. Therefore it wouldn’t behoove me to hypocritically share what a wonderful job I’ve done being a true reflection of Christ everywhere I go, or how great I did making the right choices all the time, or how perfect a mother I’ve been.
But I can share this: no matter how well or poorly I ran the course provided me, there was always a set of eyes on me, encouragement cheering me through even the roughest spots (even when I chose not to hear them), and the ecstatic look of God grinning ear to ear each time I did well. To this day, I can honestly say that no matter what, I know that God is thinking of me even when I am not thinking of Him. As the third point of this morning’s sermon, it truly encouraged me to know that God still thinks of me, protects me, and shows extreme concern for me every second of every day.
Surely this means that I am very special in the most precious way possible. So are you.
