Time

Dec 3, 2011

I use to have the cleanest house, the neatest yard. I was on top of things. It's not like that anymore. A clean house use to define me. It was what I thought made me important. It was what I was all about. How sad that is to me now. I would joke that on my tombstone there would be a duster and the words "She knew how to clean". I don't want to be remembered like that now. I want to be remembered as a person who knew how to laugh. How to love. Who made time for others. How I still battle with what I should be doing and what I want to be doing. The should's are: Clean the bathroom, make sure the laundry basket is empty. What will people think of me if they stop over and see dust and papers laying around or dishes in the sink. Sometimes people say to me " You must have a lot of time on your hands" when they see a card I've created. I think "no", I don't have anymore time then you, I make the time. Even if I have to run myself rag-it because I want to do it all. I took pride in my ability to clean like no other and felt it was a compliment, that it made me stand out from all the rest. I am sure now that it made other people uncomfortable to be in my presence. To have me in their home. Although I never cared about how their home looked, they probably didn't know it.
As I am getting older I have a internal fight with Mrs. Clean and who I am now. I don't enjoy it anymore. It's a chore. It takes up my time that I would much rather be doing something else. Something with my creativity. I love to creative cards and paper crafts. It is a passion. I spend time looking at graphics I can use on the computer. I look at other people's creations. Then I squeeze time in to create. It's on my mind all of the time. If I only had the time. I work part time now. We are empty nesters. I have time but I cloud it up with stuff. Cleaning, shopping and looking up graphics on the computer. I think someday I'll have the time. Maybe Wednesday when I get done with the cleaning. Maybe Friday after I do the shopping. Maybe on Monday, after work, after dinner, after the dishes, after, after....Then it's bed time. Well maybe tomorrow.....
There is a small voice inside of me that tell's me to write. Write about my everyday happenings. Just the day to day things that go on in all of our lives. I like to take an event, relate it to a lesson that I I need to learn or someone else can learn from.I like to take things that give us all something to think about. I like to include Jesus in what I am writing about. People say that I am good at it. If I only had the time!
Today I decided that the time is now. That I will give this a chance. I will write. I will post my writings on my blog again. Like I use to. It always made me feel good. To write something. "Jesus, if this is my purpose I only ask that you guide my thoughts". I know I need to read your word more so I can tie it together. I know that it means less searching and more time doing. More time making my cards and more time writing. This is my passion. I have been doing these two things since I was a little girl. They saved me from all of the pain that was going on around me and inside of me. I would draw with crayons. I would create little projects. I would write on what ever I could find. Poems and I kept a journal for years. I would dream of the day that I would be able to have a computer and have all of the things that I needed to create. I have all of those things now. I have more than I could ever use. I have a craft room now with a computer in it. I have been blessed.
Jesus, you have given me everything I need to fulfill my purpose and now you are giving me the Okay to pursuit it. Help me as I sit here and type the words out that are always in my head. Help me to see my everyday happenings and how they relate to you. Teach me though the words and thoughts that I put in this computer. Help me go get beyond the should's that I carry like a suitcase. Remind me often that's it's okay that I did terrible in spelling and English. Remind me that I have thoughts that need to be written for my sake and maybe for someone else's. That it's okay not be perfect. That it's okay for my writing to be a little messy, a little out of place. Just like it's okay for my house to be a little messy. I look forward to our journey".