I've felt prompted to use this blogging space this year more as a place to stop and ponder...with the occasional peek into life behind the scenes in Mid-Morning land. So last week I wrote some blogs about writing your story. Scroll down and take a peek if you'd like to see!
This morning I ran into this quote on Twitter:
"Too many people are missing their story because they're watching the story of others."
Dan Allender
I'm intrigued. And convicted.
Is that me? Am I so concerned with what others have...what others can do...the lives others can reach...that I'm completely dissatisfied with my own story?
It used to be.
Like in junior high when my friend Lori could sing beautiful melodies that made the choir teacher smile.
I was over on the side singing my heart out...in the safety of my heart where no one could hear squeaks and missed pitches.
Like in high school when my friend Amber sketched a gorgeous portrait that was purchased by a county judge.
And I was huddled at my own art table, trying to make Mrs. Potts look something like she did in the Disney movie. {My version wasn't even refrigerator worthy.}
But that was then. That was the turbulent teen years. This is now. Now that I'm an adult. With a job. And a husband. I'm not focused on others' stories now.
Well.
Except when I posted this on Facebook last night:
I have to admit I feel a little bit like a loser and mostly sub-par because I am not on the bandwagon of having a "word for the year." I thought about picking one just so I could fit in and feel better about myself but it would take me to March to figure out what it would be, so I'm cutting my losses on this one.
Maybe you've seen it...these bloggers that are focusing on a word for the year. As you might have noticed, I'm not much of a one-word sort of girl. I'd need that whole cloud up there. {Doubled.}
But there I go again. Feeling left out and like my story is less important because I'm not part of the in-crowd. This time it's not for lack of melody or artistry...but because I'm too much. Too wordy. Not drawing others in with my focus on a word.
And then later last night, I sighed my way heavily onto the bed as Ryan rushed through the room, armload of hangers in tow.
What's wrong? he asked.
You can work circles around me. We've been working all weekend and I love the way the house looks and I so appreciate all your hard work, but I can't keep up with you.
As we settled into bed later, he brushed hair out of my face {and I love it when he does that} and looked me deep in the eye and said, I don't like it when you feel like you're less-than because our strengths are different. I get focused on a list of things that need done and I don't want to stop until they are...but you...you've written all the thank you notes for the wedding and you make scrapbooks to keep all our memories...and I could never do those things. But they're not less important than what I can do.
Gulp.
There I go again...looking at his story and thinking it matters more because his work is visible. It's the coat rack on the wall, the freshly steamed carpet, and the organized file cabinet drawer.
Creativity buried in code I can't even understand...but it comes out as beauty.
And isn't that life? Each of us living our own story...written in code we can't understand...but it's beauty that needs to be lived. And we're in danger of missing it...all of us...because we're looking out there. Out there to someone who can sing. Or draw. Or condense a year into a word's focus. Or clean and organize.
Look IN. Know that your story is not less-than because it's not the same as the person sharing your home...or behind the blog...or holding the brush.
It's everything. Because it's YOURS.
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