"When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, "I used everything you gave me".
Erma Bombeck
When I read this statement on one of the blogs I followed, my first thought was, 'did the person who wrote this actually understand the eternal implications of what they were saying.'
Then I thought, 'did the person who blogged this statement understand the eternal implications of the statement that they loved.'
(Now I'm thinking - I am a bit of a cynic!)
But the next thought drove deeper into my conscious: do I fully accept the physical and eternal implications of this statement.
I could say to myself, 'that's nice'
or I could choose to let the statement speak to the tumult of emotions that I have been experiencing in the last year.
It isn't that unusual to be talking with a friend about something that I've done or made and they have said, "you could make a living out of that." God has blessed me with many things I can do and like to do.
Yet, I wonder... do I use everything God has given me?
The fact is, yes, to some degree I do use everything that God has given me. The deeper reality is that I don't know if I adequately use the things that God has given me. My heart and mind get pulled in many directions with all the things I can do.
My heart would love to follow some of my creative inclinations in a career.
My heart wishes and dreams of using all my gifts in loving a family, cultivating them and growing with them.
My heart and head says you have a gift working with children, and sharing the truth of God and helping them grow spiritually is the best thing you can be doing. Focus on that.
Yet, the reality is I always come back to feeling...
... it would be nice to be a florist or stylist
... it would be lovely to have a means by which to cultivate my culinary delights
... it would be lovely to take my life and transport it to the UK or Europe and experience life there
... would the right man look at me and love me if I was doing something different
These things are not the focus of my life all the time. Just dreams that have sat in my heart for years.
Occasionally things I see
or hear
or read
blow the dust off my dreams, bringing that bud into full-bloom again.
But just like with a rose in full bloom,
a windy day
a unthoughtful knock
or a swirling breeze can blow the petals away,
that dream comes to nothing.
There is nothing to make it live
or thrive
or grow.
The reality is normality.
A normality with only little sunshines in its journey.
Sometimes,
it hurts so much to have dreams that come to nothing
that I wonder why I bother to have them at all.
