I know, I know. I’m a horrible blogger. There should be a little consistency on here. I choose to blame my lack of posts on the winter blahs rather than a lack of motivation or creativity.
Okay. So I really am lazy, but I think there is a grain of truth in there that winter has left me feeling, well, blah. But, the sun has emerged here in western Maryland over the past few days, and I took that as a sign that I need to get my butt in gear.
My dear friend Lauren and her husband came to visit last weekend. Of course, the first thing that Lauren and I did (after eating, of course) was have the wonderful, heartfelt conversation and introspective life-analysis that only true friends (and English majors) can have. I think I can safely speak for Lauren when I say that we both have felt a little lost over the past few months. Don’t get me wrong—we have wonderful marriages, and we’re enjoying the adventure of carving out lives with our husbands. But, for two women who always relied heavily on the ability to achieve, it’s difficult to no longer be meeting deadlines and succeeding at academic challenges daily. Basically, we miss the challenge and brain-strain that comes along with college life. Go figure, huh? Shouldn't we be relishing our ability to sit around in fat pants and do nothing all night long? I guess it just proves that stressed or bored, you can find yourself asking, What am I doing with my life?
Last summer, when I started this blog, I was searching long and hard for that Ah-hah! moment when God would plop my life’s purpose in my lap. Mind you, this was going to be something revolutionary. I was absolutely going to conquer the world, or at least some corner of the world. I would be useful. People would recognize my brilliance. I would be happy and content every single day.
I think you can guess what happened next:
God chuckled.
And then He was silent.
I ranted. I raved. Okay, so I sobbed a lot on my husband’s shoulder and to friends on the phone.
And God was still silent.
Over the last few months, in the midst of my winter blahs, I have slowly realized that whatever I do, whether insignificant or earth-shaking, should be done for God. At the end of the day, He doesn’t care what I accomplished with my own hands that day. He cares about the moments that I let Him use my hands for His glory. It hasn't been a lightening-bolt revelation of direction and purpose. It's been more like the slow melt of snow-packed ground that subtly reveals the hope of spring.
I in no way, shape, or form have this concept down on a daily basis. In fact, today is one of those early spring days when I’m itching to escape the day-to-day grind and look ahead to the “what-ifs” down the line. But, I’ve noticed a peace that is invading my heart and mind. It took God removing all things from my life that I think I’m good at to help me realize what my purpose is:
To love Him and love others as He loves me.
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