I have a confession to make, lately, I've been floundering a little bit with a sense of aimlessness. When I wrote my autobiography for school, I was thinking a lot about purpose, particularly the journey of discovering my purpose. But when I looked back over the purpose statements I had written during my years of affiliation with CollegePlus (as a student, since I am now employed with them.), none of those statements resonated with me. My latest ideas, though not a written statement, toyed with the idea of helping girls understand their value. Maybe my purpose, I thought, is to use my struggle with self-esteem to help other girls going through the same thing. It seemed to fit, since I have the opportunity to mentor freshmen girls on Wednesday nights and helping out at the youth group is one of the most satisfying ministries I've had the pleasure to participate in.
At the back of my mind was the niggling thought that this wasn't it. I couldn't see myself advocating this message for years to come. I'm not the next "Beth Moore" or motivational speaker. I couldn't see myself devoting my life to this "cause." Of course it is a very worthy endeavor and there are so many girls who need to hear such a message, but just like God wasn't my Healer when I wanted to tell people about God being "the Ultimate Healer" (my very first purpose statement), somehow I didn't believe that talking about self-worth was my primary message. So what was it?
The truth is, I didn't really know. And when I finally realized this (literally in the last week), I freaked out a little. For a tiny moment, I felt so lost. What am I supposed to do?
Then today, over tea, I got a fresh perspective on it when a friend of mine asked the table, "What are you passionate about?" The question took a career-spin on it as people went around talking about what was most important to them--teaching, being a doctor, friends, Mom, history... Of course when it got through to me, I said, "I am passionate about art." That is a no-brainer, I've known that about myself for a long time. But as I kept talking about it, I realized that art was a narrow definition for what I am passionate about. It is so much more than art.
Art, yes. Writing, of course; that is my major after all. But it's also so much more than that. It's moments and memories and highlights and photographs and table settings and birthday cakes and interior design and conversations.
When I said, "It's so beautiful!!!" for probably the tenth time today, my dad pointed out, "That's been your catchphrase lately." I am drawn to beautiful things, and I think on some level everyone is. Why else do we have such an image-obsessed culture? But I think I am even more drawn to creating beautiful things and making the world around me a more beautiful place for myself and for others.
I may not change the world, ever. But you know what? I can help someone else see the world differently by making it more beautiful. And that is something my soul gets excited about! That is something I will do my entire life no matter where I end up in the world or how old I get. And that is what I believe my purpose is because I may not ever become a writer or an editor or a teacher or [insert whatever career here] but I will always be an artist and I will always love beautiful things.
And yet, something wasn't quite right.
At the back of my mind was the niggling thought that this wasn't it. I couldn't see myself advocating this message for years to come. I'm not the next "Beth Moore" or motivational speaker. I couldn't see myself devoting my life to this "cause." Of course it is a very worthy endeavor and there are so many girls who need to hear such a message, but just like God wasn't my Healer when I wanted to tell people about God being "the Ultimate Healer" (my very first purpose statement), somehow I didn't believe that talking about self-worth was my primary message. So what was it?
The truth is, I didn't really know. And when I finally realized this (literally in the last week), I freaked out a little. For a tiny moment, I felt so lost. What am I supposed to do?
Then today, over tea, I got a fresh perspective on it when a friend of mine asked the table, "What are you passionate about?" The question took a career-spin on it as people went around talking about what was most important to them--teaching, being a doctor, friends, Mom, history... Of course when it got through to me, I said, "I am passionate about art." That is a no-brainer, I've known that about myself for a long time. But as I kept talking about it, I realized that art was a narrow definition for what I am passionate about. It is so much more than art.
I am passionate about making beautiful things.
Art, yes. Writing, of course; that is my major after all. But it's also so much more than that. It's moments and memories and highlights and photographs and table settings and birthday cakes and interior design and conversations.
When I said, "It's so beautiful!!!" for probably the tenth time today, my dad pointed out, "That's been your catchphrase lately." I am drawn to beautiful things, and I think on some level everyone is. Why else do we have such an image-obsessed culture? But I think I am even more drawn to creating beautiful things and making the world around me a more beautiful place for myself and for others.
I may not change the world, ever. But you know what? I can help someone else see the world differently by making it more beautiful. And that is something my soul gets excited about! That is something I will do my entire life no matter where I end up in the world or how old I get. And that is what I believe my purpose is because I may not ever become a writer or an editor or a teacher or [insert whatever career here] but I will always be an artist and I will always love beautiful things.
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