As a child I had a vivid imagination. I was blessed (?) with a dramatic flair fueled by a steady diet of books that transformed ordinary words into epic tales of good vs. evil, love, betrayal and adventure. I was SO hooked.
I believed anything was possible, wasn’t MY life a book ready to be written? Options seemed limitless until the day I told a friend my secret…I wanted to go to the moon! The MOON? she shouted. Who wants to go to the moon, and don’t you actually have to be smart?
I realized it’s not always wise to share your dreams with someone who will not hold them gently.
If going to the moon was out, “Plan B” was an excellent option as well…to Egypt I would travel and become an archaeologist. Unfortunately you had to be good in school to do that kind of work as well. Epic.Fail.
As I got older there were other things…marine biologist, travel agent, detective (thank you Nancy Drew), poet, novelist (as in a female version of Wilbur Smith) etc etc. What I realized is this:
The less important we feel, the harder we try to find purpose and meaning in order to validate our existence.
I never understood that I was important JUST BECAUSE! I didn’t know that simply living out my story would itself bring purpose and meaning to me and to others. No fancy job description, no plaques on my wall, no suits in my closet.
Just at peace.
How did I learn this? I remember her every day.
I came across her blog through a friend of a friend on FB. She was struggling with stage 4 stomach cancer and was in Mexico receiving treatment. Her colorful f-bombs and contagious enthusiasm were smattered across each daily entry. At the end of every post she had a disclaimer that read:
“I DO NOT HAVE A F@#($*G EXPIRATION DATE MARKED ON THE BOTTOM OF MY FOOT”
I scanned her blog every day for almost 3 months willing her to be healthy, praying for her kids and husband, her parents and friends.
Then there was silence. Nothing to sound any alarms, she was just going home after being in Mexico for treatment. Except that wasn’t it. She passed away on Mother’s Day, less than a week after returning home to her two babies and extended family.
I was seriously gob-smacked by the impact this woman had on my life. Somehow I had been encouraged to face my own hardship with grace, humor and an unparalleled use of f-bombs from a voice I had never heard.
That’s when it hit me. It will be enough to live each day by God’s grace so that I can share my journey with you. It will be enough to be honest about what life throws at me as long as I have empowered you to do the same with your circle of friends.
So go on…stop hiding behind fear. A ripple starts when an oar moves deeper into the waters. Let’s call it a love ripple.