I have been waiting to be inspired.
There is so much going on in my life, but I don’t seem to know what to write about (partially because I have SO MUCH going on in my life). I have neglected you, my (now five!) avid readers. There are different topics I want and plan to write on, but I never seem to be in the right place, the right mindset, or in the same building with my pictures.
Since I last wrote a month and a half ago, we have inherited some vegetable plants, adopted some Canadian night-crawlers, made a short film, finished a wedding video, deadlines were met, the semester ended, my cousin got married, I got accepted into an ASL interpreting program, my husband graduated with his bachelor’s degree, and I have been frantically planning Vacation Bible School. Our plants are still alive, except for that habanero (sorry Brother Mark!), and we have harvested and enjoyed 7 strawberries and 9 sugar-snap peas.
I will go ahead and tattle on myself, I am getting a LITTLE overwhelmed. Poor Kyle has gotten to experience full-on “Panic Christy” for a few weeks now. The problem is not just nervousness…I also get a LITTLE grumpy (who’d’a thunk it?). He finally sat me down this morning and gave me one of those pep-talks where you have to break down before anything productive can be accomplished.
I will not go into all of the details, because I do realize they are in fact boring and ridiculous. (You, my readership, know the things that I worry about, which are *to be honest* almost everything.) When it came down to it, Kyle informed me that I was focusing on frosting.
Frosting is nice, but it is not carrot cake.
I too frequently define myself by what I do, not who I am. My self-esteem gets so easily wrapped up in what I perceive as success or failure on my part. I am not the stupid mistakes I made years ago. I am not a horrible wife because we go out to eat too much. I am not my mis-translated word on my homework. I too often expect perfection in my own life instead of admiring the perfection of the one who made me.
The frosting is what compliments the carrot cake in this game of life.
If someone invites me over for carrot cake, I’m going to be disappointed if it is just a beautifully shaped mound of frosting with little or no cake under it. That is just disrespectful to the name “Carrot Cake”. I’m pretty sure I could get an ‘amen’ at this point, because…carrot cake.
I am not a student. I am not a secretary. I am not a failure.
I am Christy.
I do all of those things, but they are not WHO I am. I am a work of art by the God who made me, no matter what I do or think about myself; and that is the carrot cake.