Passion

I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the word passion lately.

I looked it up in the dictionary and it states:

Passion: 1) A strong and barely controllable emotion. 2) The suffering and death of Jesus.

Bill Hybils recently asked a series of three questions on this topic. 1- How filled is your passion bucket? 2 – Whose job is it to fill you passion bucket? 3 – How do we keep our passion bucket filled?

It’s our own jobs to intentionally find our passion, feed our passion, and keep our passion.

I sat with furrowed brows in concerned concentration as I thought this over. I was 41 years old, in a leadership-ish type roll, both within my job and within the walls of our home, and I had no idea what really filled my own passion bucket, and I had no idea how full it even was registering. Apparently it was that empty?!? It left with me a rather lost, empty emotion slowly seeping its way down.

I spent a week really thinking about it, and later commented that I felt I was in a season of just being really lost with a near empty passion bucket, and I didn’t have a clue what to even do to starting trying to fill it again. The conversation that followed caught me off guard a little. Several people I work with made the comment that they perceived me as a very passionate and passion driven person and that much of what I do was rooted in passion.

Really? Interesting. Why would others view something so entirely different than what I myself thought?

I sat again pondering it all. Perhaps I was just looking at it all wrong somehow. In my mind I had defined “passion” as the big, the bold, the fun, the absolute meaning that fills you bubbling up to overflowing from within. “Passion” is that thing you love to do and cling to, that thing you’re really good at, that thing that you find great joy and pleasure in, that thing that doesn’t quickly seep back out of those tiny soul cracks we all have.

I read over the dictionary definition again. In my mind I did not really correlate passion and suffering in the same definition.

I think my mind was trying to defining my passion as my photography, my scrapbooking, my writing. These were the things I simply enjoyed doing, and I didn’t understand why I was still left feeling so empty and exhausted the majority of the time, because I assumed if we did what we were "passionate" about we would naturally be happy and filled. So why was my passion bucket currently not filled to overflowing with these things in this season of my life? I honestly didn’t know. Which I found… odd.

I continued to turn and tumble all this around inside as the weeks continued, and then I finally moved on to that next word associated with passion - passionate.

I pulled out Mr Webster again and looked up the definition.

Passionate: Showing or caused by strong feelings or a strong belief.

Nothing in that definition stated the requirement of happiness, joy, or even contentment.

I recently heard Dr. John Maxwell state these profound words: “Everything worthwhile in your life is uphill. If it’s precious and beautiful – it’s uphill all the way.”

“Everything worthwhile in your life is uphill.”

Uphill is hard. Uphill is exhausting. Uphill is slippery and dangerous. Uphill is often the not-so-wonderful parts in the journey. Uphill is often not filled with laughter and ease. Uphill is the place where you often want to give up or turn back around.

I think in my mind I was trying to identify and place a big red locator pin into what my passions specifically were, and I was confused why I couldn’t really identity why I wasn’t currently filled with overflowing happiness.

My mind had apparently been carrying the wrong definition and left me asking the wrong questions. Hence leaving me feeling so lost and empty.

What I’m slowly coming to realize is the true definition of passion isn’t necessarily just choosing to doing a few select easy things over and over that I really enjoy doing and excel at. True passion is found in the often unwanted and unseen things we choose to do, even when we don’t always want to, or know how to tackle. Passion is the things we choose to do regardless of the outcome, the things we take on regardless of how bumpy and long the journey may be, the things we sometimes don’t even choose to do at all, but still do anyway.

I do not have to be filled with joy to be filled with passion.

The core of our passions are the things God nudges us to invest our energy into. Sometimes passion will sweep us into areas we excel and are talented in causing great and immediate joy, but sometimes passion will be the path less taken and the joy will be much slower and different in its arrival.

So, with this new definition, excuse me – this corrected definition, now starting to weave its way through my thoughts I’m beginning to see more clearly the things I am truly passionate about are the things in my life that are often my “uphills”… The things I am passionate about are the things that actually aren’t the areas that are easy, that aren’t bubbling with instant over-the -top joy and laughter… It’s in the uphill battles of adoption and walking well beside other adoptive moms and families. It’s in sharing the uphill battles of infant loss and infertility and finding the vulnerability and authenticity to overcome my fear and share our story. It’s about the uphill battles of school and learning issues and behavior battles of a teenager with dyslexia and a spunky eight year old with various behavioral concerns, both of which I just desperately long for them to know the victory of their own successes, irregardless of the measure of success the world places on them.

Moving my internal columns around, those top things that make me happy and bring me joy (photography, scrapbooking, and writing) are now residing in the column next to the passion column mentioned above. They are separate yet distinctly interwoven, and it’s how you mesh them together that makes all the difference.

My photos and writing are in essence my means of capturing the intimate story of my life, carefully documenting and sharing the true beauty of all that fills my passion bucket, which was apparently fuller than I had first realized. They help me see, capture, preserve, and share the day-to-day “uphill” within and around me ~ the big and the small, the easy and the hard, the good and the bad. They are the things I enjoy doing most, and are what God has laced within me to help me long for, drawing me to moments of silence, moments of rest and reflection, moments of self examination and growth… all key ingredients needed to navigate and weather the “uphills” that our passions will bring us to.

What brings me simple and easy joy also gives color and vibrancy to many of the areas the world would prefer to leave dark and grey, you know ~ the areas God has nudged me to see and choose to invest my energy into. And what we choose to invest our energy into, those are usually the precious areas of passion God is calling us to.

What do you see? What do you invest your time and energy in? Are you filling your passion bucket with the challenges God is nudging you to take on?

Dare to take the roads less traveled, dare to weather the “uphills” before you … for that is where God is most at work and where you will find yourself most alive and filled. That is where your passions, and the things that bring you great joy, will intersect in a perhaps most peculiar and yet most rewarding way.

It was already happening all around me, I just needed fresh eyes to finally be able to truly see and experience it differently. I’m still exhausted and running fairly empty, but that’s ok. I know it’s because while trying to live my life and honoring the passions I’ve been called to, some things are just heavy and hard. That doesn’t mean my bucket is empty, it just means I need to intentionally mix in a little more of the joy giving things into those areas.

I think the key is to try channel our passionate hards through our joy-filling easies, to help move those “uphill” passions to be more fully life giving and bucket filling.

{ next blog post }

Weight

So, can I talk honestly about weight? Can I go there? I’m convinced nearly all of us struggle with this issue. I know I do, and I’m learning that with nearly everything I struggle with, there is a long row of others behind me dealing with something similar.

All my life I’ve battled the scale, and all my life I’ve been in a losing battle with that number. I’ve dealt with the effects of an eating disorder since I was in middle school. (Nope – I’ve never been a “binger and purger” in case you’re wondering and wanting to maybe gossip about this little tidbit of information…) I’m a “controller” and I once thought the greatest control one can have is not eating anything at all. This has left me to battle every single morsel of food that I've put in my mouth for the last thirty years.

The scale number in my mind that I think is my “ideal weight” is for the most part, entirely unattainable. I’ve been at this target number for probably a grand total of 9 total days of my life. I will reach the goal and by the next day I will already be unable to maintain it, and will spend every following day wishing I was able to get back to that weight. Apparently my physical body has a much different point of view on the matter of my ideal weight than my mind does.

My weight has always rollercoastered over a 20-30 pound fluctuation. I have two entire wardrobes of clothes for both ends of the spectrum. I’m hovering into having to move into a third… which would move my current “fat clothes” into a sad “middle” area, replaced by an even “fatter” “fat clothes”. I said I would never buy bigger clothes… but we all know the reality that buying a few new pairs of pants is much quicker and easier than trying to get back into the ones we currently own.

You all get this don’t you?! Please tell me this isn’t just me…

I was recently sick for a long period of time, and it took its toll on me physically, with an actually positive side effect of unexpected weight loss (notice I did not include the words “unwanted weight loss”! Personally I think any weight loss that is out of my control is glorious!) It took my body about fifteen months to slowly heal and get back to its former “healthy,” and as the months of this summer passed, sadly the pounds have slowly settled back on. I tried to not see them, and I haven’t actually gotten back on the scale to know the true breadth of its reality (oh how I hate that cold, white thing covered in bathroom dust over in the corner) But as someone once said to me, “Oh course we know we’ve gained weight, we are the ones wearing it!” Yes, I am surly the one wearing it… the return of the cellulite and pudge has again hidden all the tone and trim of thirty pounds ago. Sigh.

I swore I would not let this happen again.

I’ve crossed over that line of youth and am now in my forties… I have a hormone deficiency and I’ve been taking shots, oral meds, and oils for years to try and trick my body into thinking it’s “normal” (which it’s anything but normal and properly functioning)… I’m busy working two jobs (one of which is a cake decorating business for cry’n out loud!) and I’m eyebrow deep in raising my family… I’m kind of genetically doomed for being overweight (sorry mom)… And this summer I developed an issue with my feet ~ bunions. Yes, I am dealing with some crazy sore old lady feet issues that have left me unable to wear anything but flip flops this summer. And we all know we just can’t run or do any kind of exercise with sore feet. I’ve allowed it to become my greatest excuse for lazy.

And then there’s eating healthy, I’m not even going to go there… Healthy is just hard. Healthy is a crazy personally unattainable goal of proper rest, diet, and exercise. I’ve again fallen into this really bad mindset that if I can’t attain perfection in these three areas by tomorrow (ok, maybe by next week), that I’m just not even going to try. I’m not even going to worry about improvement, or doing them “better” than I did yesterday.

I’ve tried to justify and convince myself “this is who I am and that’s ok.”
But it’s really not ok, and I think we all know this truth as well.

I really don’t want to be this heavy and this out of shape, but I haven’t been able to find the energy to take on trying to change it. I don’t want to get all crazy and become a gym guru, I don’t want to start some crazy diet plan that will only set me up for failure and cost a small fortune. How many times haven’t I looked at a diet plan and thought, oh I could do that – and I would probably feel better and lose some weight. And then I think about myself when I am dieting hard core… I’m edgy and I’m basically really hard to live with, I often get obsessive and slightly mental. Yes, I could probably give up sugar, flour, gluten, chocolate, AND caffeine for 30 days… but frankly, I really don’t want to. I happen to really really like coffee, chocolate, and carbs.

The amount of work it takes to give up and tone up is often more than what I’m willing or able to sacrifice for my sanity and time availability. Does anyone besides myself really care how much space in this world I am taking up? Despite what tv is flashing at us at with every channel change, I highly doubt anyone really personally cares all that much about my weight beyond myself.

Yes, my doctor wants me to be healthy. Yes, society at large wants me to buy in to fad diet plans, pink drinks, gym memberships, and the purchasing of tight fitting yoga pants and active wear. And yes, my husband would probably like me to be thinner ~ but I’m also pretty sure he does not want to have to live through the cranky mood swings I’m going to experience and explode upon him during another journey to get there.

So, what do I do with this reality? How do I convince myself it’s time to get a little more healthy and that the battle with be worth it? How do I just get back to what I was before?

Ten pounds… how do we start with a simple, yet ginormous goal of losing ten pounds without getting obsessed, depressed, or overly crazy?

This is the question I’ve asked myself over and over this week, which makes me believe that this is a quiet whisper God is nudging me to do, and it’s time. I believe He is trying to help set me up to be blessed and not obsessed this time around. But ultimately, I'm still the one that has to do it.

I’ve asked two friends to walk beside me and hold me accountable, to help encourage me to just figure out how and where to even start. I know we all know the basic principles of WHAT to do and HOW to start ~ move more and eat less. It’s the getting started that I think is a little tricky for most of us.

For me right now, I’m going to say my “getting started” is just putting it out there that it’s something I know I need to do. Will it start today? I don’t know. Or will I put it off until tomorrow – or next week – or heaven forbid next month or next year? Can I admit to you I’m eyeing a bag of tortilla chips, cheese queso, and salsa and thinking perhaps I’ll consider starting after eating a good fill of those bad boys?!?

Ten pounds people. We can do this! Ten pounds is my challenge today to myself and to you. Actually, let’s just start with nine pounds! That’s still in the single digits!

Next challenge we will take on the double digits!

{ next weight journey update HERE }
{ next blog post }

Season of Change

It’s 5:30am and I’m sitting in the dark, coffee in hand, electric embers of a fireplace attempting to convey an intimate, yet very programmed ambiance. The dog is curled on the pillow beside me on the couch, and while I’m lazy and thinking of climbing back into bed, I don’t. Today is not for sleeping in… today is for hanging on just a little bit longer. Today I need to assure myself a few more hours here… a few more breaths of peace, calm, and nature’s beauty at its quiet finest.

My heart is a mix between smiling with amazing memories and extreme gratitude, marbled with an enormous heaviness knowing the end is almost here. Not an end end… but an end of season none-the-less.

Change, no matter what kind or for what reason, is never easy.

Next weekend will be our last weekend at the lake for this season. When I turn around and glance behind me, I say over and over “Wow the summer went by soooo fast!” But, if I take the time to click through all my photos (thousands and thousands of them neatly organized in weekly folders on my computer) of our journeys and memories here this season, I am beyond in awe at how much we have done, seen, shared, experienced, and been blessed with. I am again truly humbled by the amazing community we have become a part of here.

God clearly had a much bigger plan for our little family in deep mourning on that first weekend we arrived here last spring. And as hard as that is to understand, I am grateful.

Twenty-two weekends we were granted at the lake this summer. Twenty-two weekends of the good, the bad, and the ugly. Twenty-two weekends of sun, sand, laughter, tears, and amazing food. Twenty-two weekends of real life, true love, and forever friends and family.

I sit here, honestly wondering how I will get from next weekend until next April when we can return. I wonder how I will be able to will myself to lock the camper door and just drive away knowing we won't return for seven months. I fight back the tears just thinking about it.

A final, yet really-only-temporary goodbye, for a really long time has almost again arrived.

It’s not that I’m not excited for what’s next… to have time to scrapbook again, to have my husband out hunting again, and for us to embark in all the fun winter activities we will surely experience… But just knowing very very soon there will be goodbyes here, there will be the closing of our camper, and my van - filled with myself, my eight year old, my puppy, my camera, and our weekend food supply, will no longer make the weekly journey down the highway from our driveway at home to our driveway at the lake. No more sunsets over still waters, no more mornings on the deck drinking coffee as the sun breathes its hellos, no more campfires across the way, no more campground community filled with its golf cart traffic, conversations, laughter, gossips, beach time, water activities, and its special healing salve which somehow combines everything good and spreads itself instantly over the not-so-great hurts, disappointments, and stresses of my every day life away from here.

As I try use up the contents of our pantry and slowly continue to empty out the fridge and freezer after an entire season of being fully stocked, as we take a few things home each weekend (the boat, the jetski, the paddle boat, the golf cart…) and as we plan and prepare for the big weekend next weekend, that final weekend when we have to drive away knowing we won’t be coming back for a long, long time… I can’t help but think about how someday this might be us in our big house as we prepare to move from home to nursing home. But that farewell will not be followed by the return of a spring hello. That farewell however, will bring us one step closer to our Heavenly hello.

All these continued change of seasons I know will continue to bring us closer and closer to that final change of season. Unfortunately we will never know when each of our final seasons are going to be. It's my reminder how I must never take one day, one moment of my life for granted (even though I know I will ~ I always do).

I’m already thinking ahead to next summer and I earnestly pray we will all be returning. I pray none of us lose a spouse or a child in this next season. I pray no one is diagnosed with cancer or great illness in this next season. It’s not that I think of myself as a pessimist, but more a realist. I think this happens to people after moments of great loss. Your eyes suddenly see life differently and you realize life and health are not guaranteed, and you spend a little more time appreciating what we do have, and analyzing the how’s and why’s of what we do amid how we live in a more grounded and realist manner. Perhaps it’s my defense mechanism against the emotional and spiritual pain of loss and disappointment. I got caught off guard once in life, and swore it would never happen again.

I’m also struck with the reality that the bigger my friend group grows, the greater the chance for someone within us to experience loss, to experience illness, to mourn, grieve, lose… It’s one of those great risks that come when you allow yourself to love on a greater and grander scale beyond yourself. And of course, on the flip side, I know we will also get the opportunity to experience the great joys and celebrations of additions and accomplishments with each other as well. It's interesting how I’m 41 years old and really, for the first time in life, learning about the true meaning and advantages of great friendships.

We all have many many seasons before us. Lord willing we will be granted years and years of continued endings and beginnings.  But as fast as time is speeding by, I know it will only be a few more blinks before nearly all of our lifetimes will behind us. Like this moment, which I am desperately trying to slow and savor, I pray all of the coming seasons I can intentionally do the same with. May I always be looking ahead asking what it is I need from this season to help carry me successfully through the following season to come.

I pray as I continue to walk through the upcoming seasons of change in my life that I won't get caught up in the mundane of the moment, the continued chaos of the crazy, and the overwhelm of the unknown. I pray that as I am blessed to continue through each new season that I will be able to breathe deep my true meaning and purpose. May I not get lost and drown in all life’s daily details.

May the quiet sunrises shrouded in humid fog get me through the cloudy days when the sun won’t shine for days on end. May the three digit heat of this season get me through the below zero temps of the next.

May the summer sunsets of this season carry me through the winter storms of next season.

{ next blog post }