Maine is Calling and I Must Go

Figure out what you want. I hope you find what you're searching for. Praying you find clarity on your trip. I hope you get what you want.

Wow. All statements I've heard multiple times in the last several days and weeks. Kinda makes me feel like an insecure, randomly epic failure. Or as I was told, like a kid in a candy store, unable to make a decision.

Will I ever grow up? Will I really decide what I want to be, eventually? Or rather, and maybe more importantly, WHO I want to be?

Who do I want to be? I know I want to be kind, giving, and fearlessly faithful. I hear that if we decide who we want to be that what we want to be will naturally follow. I'm not certain I'm feeling it.

Forgive my ramblings, but writing seems to help make sense of the world around me.

I wrote the previous sentences several days ago, after first arriving in Camden, Maine. You may know that just over three years ago, my daughter and I took a trip along the east coast and landed in Camden, having our party we were traveling with "abandon" us there, on purpose. This tiny, picturesque, eclectic village and the surrounding sea has been calling to my soul ever since. So I came back.

I came back to heed the call. To try to figure if it was really a call or rather a warning signal or fog horn or what. I wanted to spend some time here, vegging out, writing, thinking, praying, feeling.

My trip took a bit of a different twist, though, when I asked my folks to come along with me. I knew that if and when I do end up in Maine, they, with their climbing ages and sliding ability to get around easily, might not ever be able to visit me here, so I brought them along to see the coast and what I've been talking about for the last three years. So, I haven't exactly stopped and spent my time writing and thinking as much as I had desired, rather I've been entertaining the old folks and visiting places I might not have visited had they not been along. So, it's all been good, just different than what I had initially planned.

I'm sitting in a window seat in the Camden Public Library as I write. The window I chose overlooks the yard and gazebo of the library, the park and amphitheater, all of which are bordered by Camden Harbor. I'm watching the ships move about, some busy with the locals, geared up in wet weather garb and layers, some taking tourists on day trips, others sitting comfortably at their docks, awaiting their next and possibly close to last voyage for the season.  I have joked the last three years that I could move to Camden and be the librarian, but after sitting in this window, I don't find as much twisted humor in that as before.

It's not an easily explainable thing to try and make others understand how your soul, your very being, the reason for your existence, can be drawn to a particular place. I felt that pull the first time we visited atop Mt. Battie and were overlooking Camden Harbor and Penobscot Bay. Three years later, I felt that same sense as I arrived back in Camden late on a Monday night. Nearly two weeks later, sitting in a window seat in the library, I still feel that pull. But it's not a negative thing. Like I said, it's hard to explain, but it's a sense of belonging. A feeling in your gut that whatever you're supposed to accomplish in life is supposed to happen right here. A realization that the purpose you were put on this earth for is to be played out here, in this spot. It's a feeling that you've reached your destination. You've made it. You're home, now. You can take your shoes off and put your feet up because the rest of whatever you face will be easier now. You're home.

I think if you are lucky enough to find and be in that place, you're one of the luckiest people on earth. Don't get me wrong, I do believe we have the ability to make most any 'place' a home and we can decide to be happy where we are. But sometimes life throws us curveballs that make us see things differently. More independently. More colorful. More out loud. And I don't think we should settle just because we are where we are and we get comfortable. Sometimes the most beautiful of situations come from the most uncomfortable decisions. It's often then that we rise from the ashes and become a shining, polished stone after being tossed and rolled and cast aside.

I believe it's nearly impossible for us to fill someone else's mold. Oh, we can push and squeeze ourself in for a time, we can get excited about someone else's dream or agenda or vision. But eventually, we will realize that we don't change shape so easily. Not to the extent of making someone else's passion ours. Our passions come from within, not without. We must realize and decide our own passions. We may share the same passions with others, but there will always be a bit of a different dream or desire or speed of pursuance, making our own passion ours. And, I don't believe that our passions will work us to the bone. Meaning, we won't ask our passion to make our life livable. I believe our passions should be left alone to be just that and not be required to be our lifeline. If we let them grow and bloom, the possibilities and probabilities that will come from them will be exponential.

So what does my passion have to do with Camden, Maine? Well, if I had my druthers, I'd sit right here on this window seat or down on the pier every day and write to my hearts content! For a creative, I think the physical place we are in makes a lot of difference in our creativity. Add to that the place your soul is calling you to, and you've got a gold mine.

But, life and circumstances warrant that I must continue on with where I have been placed for the time being. So, I will continue on. I am working on a new site and format for my writing, which brings so much clarity to my heart and soul and hopefully some good encouragement to others. Life is good in the Missouri Midwest, full of family, good friends, and an abundance of a growing community to fellowship with.

Will I eventually end up in Camden, Maine? Very possibly. I did make some good contacts of fellow farmers and resources while there. But I'm not packing my bags just yet. After all, there are still many things to accomplish here in the Midwest seasons of my life.

My Deepest Desire

I took a personality quiz, already knowing which answer best suited my identity, but I think it's fun to take one anyhow and read the demographic information.

This quiz was to find out which of the Four Tendencies I was: an Upholder, a Questioner, an Obliger, or a Rebel, all based on the studies and framework book by Gretchen Rubin.

I don't suppose the answer to the quiz is really all that important, at least not from the standpoint of making a blog post about it. Many of you who know me well can probably guess which one of those descriptive words best fits my personality. And, knowing which one we are and understanding the definition of the type and why we do what we do, can, I believe, help us to make our lives a bit happier.

But I think there's more.

I don't want to just dwell on whichever tendency best fits me, even though I already knew and the quiz pegged my personality. But if I don't take that information and choose to grow something more out of that situation or that personality trait or connotation, then I don't believe I'm fulfilling my true purpose.

Now I've gone off the deep end. Do we ever really know our true purpose? Well, if you've read any of my writings over the last several years, surely you've read somewhere that I believe we were put on this earth for two reasons: to worship and to serve. Any by loving others, we are serving and worshipping.

Exactly how that plays out, we may realize early on in life and for some of us, we might not figure it out until much later in our years. Either way, it's often an "aha" moment or a realization so extraordinary that it can't be anything other than our true purpose.

I heard a phrase a day or two ago, and it rang true with me. You see, I have a desire to make a difference. No, not change the world - that's asinine to think I can. But, I can make a difference to one person, who in turn can share that difference with one person and you've all heard this kind of reasoning before... eventually we may just reach the whole world.

I have a desire to encourage and empower others through my writings. My thoughts, my ramblings. (I know. I ramble. All. The. Time.) But if my ramblings can make a difference in one person's day, then I have succeeded in my highest calling. Because there's just not a big chance that that difference will stop there. It's in motion.

Have you ever tossed a stone into the water? Or watched the rain softly falling in a puddle? It's a motion effect that changes the surface of the water. A wave or tremor, a riffle or undulation. The best part? The motion. It's unstoppable. It's flowing and it can't be stopped. It's a natural occurrence. And it's beautiful, because the motion of water like this is soothing, encouraging, seemingly life-giving. And who wouldn't want that?

It's my desire.

I want to be a ripple.

The generous soul will be made rich, And he who waters will also be watered himself.
Proverbs 11:25 NKJV

Hope Will Sustain Us

My heart is heavy these days. Some days more than others. But my heart sank again just this past week when I received a message from fellow farming friends that they were done. Tired of fighting against Big Ag and the repercussions of living next door to a large, conventional operation.

I can't say I blame them. I understand their brokenness. Oh, I don't believe their souls are broken. But when we pour our hearts and souls into something we believe in only to not be able to fight against something bigger, our hearts break that we are not able to see what we think should be the end result of our labor.

I've been listening to podcasts during my big-girl job, which is mowing for the city I live in. Let me tell you, I've been through a LOT of podcasts after an 8-hour day on a mower! I was excited to hear that the person being interviewed on the podcast I was listening to was Jennifer Rothschild. If you remember, Jennifer and her crew from Lifeway Christian Stores came out early this year to do some video taping with the sheep for her next Bible study that's coming out next month.  I am blessed to consider Jennifer and her husband, Phil, friends. They are some of the most genuine folks I have met.

So when I got to hear Jennifer's story again, and the questions she was answering about being a happy, vibrant woman, it brought together everything that's been bottling up inside of me, adding to the heartache for friends like above.

Even on my worst days, I ALWAYS try to remind myself, no matter how low, broke, lonely, sad, depressed I am, there is ALWAYS, ALWAYS someone who has it worse off than me. Someone out there is having a worse day than I am. And considering, however low, broke, lonely, sad, depressed I am, I am still VERY blessed.  I am trying to focus on the things to be grateful for in my life. Even the low parts, for there we can learn.

So here I am, mowing through the tombstones (I work in a cemetery!), avoiding vases and flowers and listening to the hope and joy and faith in Jennifer's voice and it hits me like a big, marble headstone. And I lose it. I'm bawling. The inspiration is leaking out of my whole face, and not quietly, either. Thankfully I was on a loud mower, but I'm pretty sure the guys - they're all guys; I'm the only female - I work with were wondering what in blazes was wrong with me!

It's crazy how God brings the little things in our lives together to make a point. Just a day or so before, I had read some scripture that really caught my attention, but didn't drive the point home until after the podcast, after the message from my friends, after talking with one of my girlfriends and admitting how tired I was. I have to be honest, I've found myself feeling extremely tired these days. Not physically, so much, but mentally, spiritually. Tired enough to not know what I want to be when I grow up. Tired enough to want to chuck it all and make that move to Maine. Tired enough to just kind of disappear and start over.

But this scripture keeps popping back up. And my tribe of girlfriends sends me random texts. And it seems that somehow, maybe I've made a little glimmer of a difference in someone's life. And I realize that's all I really want. And it gives me hope.

No matter what, no matter where, no matter how low, broke, lonely, sad, depressed we are, we can hope. Hope will sustain us.

"The thought of my suffering and homelessness is bitter beyond words. I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss. Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this:
The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease. Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning. I say to myself, 'The Lord is my inheritance; therefore, I will hope in him!'"
~Lamentations 3:19-24 NLT