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They say to examine what you did as a child or what you wanted to be when you were a child and that this will give you great insight as to what you should do as an adult. As a child I was always trying to sell things (I was a shampoo saleswoman once. That was so unimaginably fun) And I also wanted to write. I remember once stapling together like twenty "books" I had written, setting them up around the living room, grabbing my red little cash register and opening my bookstore. My dad came in and in his usual cheapness bought the whole lot for two dollars. I was probably six or five at the time, but even then I sniffed disdainfully at the menial commission for the work of my creation.
I was sweeping the other day and a fit of condescension alighted upon me. Whatever was the meaning of having a job where I have to sweep? Why am I working at this place when I could quite literally do anything else that I wanted? I suppose it is easier said than done. I actually got another job this summer, but decided not to take it. It would have been quiet, enjoyably busy, and far away from the noise and chaos and faces that I'd find in the Caf.... but for many reasons it didn't feel right.
Do you ever push yourself to the limits just to see how far you can go? I probably do that everyday. I don't like my job at all. I get wickedly stressed out almost every time I go there...and everyday I pray that God will help me learn how not to be stressed. And I admit, the longer I keep at it, the better it gets...slowly, of course.
Things always do get better in time. But it usually takes a long time. When the horrible thing happened this past semester and I knew I was in for a time of sadness/crying myself to sleep/eating too much chocolate I wanted to get through it quickly and move on. But as with maturity, healing takes time. You can't rush yourself. It is just now, nearly four months later, that I can honestly say that that entire experience is starting to fade from my mind. I've worked hard to forget it ever happened and now I am beginning to truly see it as it was, let go, and move on.
And it feels incredible. I am not yet the kind of person who can ever look fondly back upon a person or experience that has hurt me. Not to say I am unforgiving, for I am, but I have no emotional tolerance (or maybe call it strength) to reunite myself with objects of hurt. The hurt just feels too deeply, too overwhelming, and too painful. For example, I have forgiven my father for everything, but I never want to see him again. It is the same with every person whose hurt me. Is that wrong? Why must we accept people into our lives who cause us pain? I seriously don't think God means for this to happen.
This has been the theme of my summer: Enough is enough! I am tired of being hurt by people. And if you don't stand up for yourself then they will keep on doing it! People will drag you down into the unhappy, miserable place where they themselves live. And, if you think about it, sometimes walking away and finding true joy and happiness teaches a person more profoundly than if you wallowed in the mud with them trying fruitlessly to "save them."
Sigh. This has been a jumbled up post. It really has no cohesion at all.Alas, I do believe all my creative prowess has been spent on my jewelry making.
Exodus 14:13-14
"Moses answered the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the LORD will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The LORD will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
Hebrews 12:1
"Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us."
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