I remember being so frustrated, in kindergarten, because I never could get the hang of coloring within the lines. No matter what I did, my papers never received the praise that some of my peers' papers received. I tried, too, to color like they instructed. I can remember gripping my color crayon, trying to color in one direction, with just the right amount of strength, so my hues and my picture would be as striking as the other pictures that got gold stars or hung on the wall. I don't even remember if I ever got a happy face. My memory tells me that my comments were more like a "Good Try..."
But I do remember trying so hard to win approval for my efforts. I didn't give up easily. But even now, over 35 years later, I still feel the sting of that knowledge that I could not be what my teacher had hoped I'd be. I remember feeling deflated, ultimately, somewhat inferior; and at the same time, I can remember, in my little five-year-old mind, wondering why this skill mattered so much.
I still wonder that.
I wonder, sometimes, what is best when navigating popular culture and my responsibilities--especially "my destiny," my "call"...Sometimes, I feel, even as a grown up, as if I am uselessly trying to live up to ideals and cultural mindsets that, try as I might, are boxes I cannot successfully occupy. Sometimes, I feel as if I can't breathe.
But I feel called to the box. (I was "called" within the context of the box. It can't be ALL bad, can it?)
What is one to do about that? More importantly, what am I to do about that?
I have always felt like there is more, more, more. There is more room to color than just within the lines. But it's risky to feel that way, even more risky to live that way. One may "mostly" stay within the lines, attempt the "right color strokes" and be tolerated...but to go outside of the lines? Potentially dangerous.
I suppose my question, the question for me and for The Lord tonight, is whether or not there are many others out there, outside of the lines, outside of the box, and whether it is to them He has called me.
Or, perhaps, I'm to be a bridge between the two, somehow.
(Am I getting warmer, Lord?)
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PRAYER:
Lord, I feel the floor shifting, the rug being pulled out from under me. I can sense you want to move me, and I'm asking you to point me in the right direction, help me recognize where it is you wish for me to go. Because I don't want to live a mediocre life. And I don't want to waste the energy you've given me to "spin my wheels" trying to be everything everyone else requires for me to be. Help me to see Your Will, open the doors and illuminate my steps. I do not want to get out of step with You.
I know there is more, and thank You for reminding me of that tonight. I trust You, in all things. No matter what.
Amen.
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