My Dear "Kindred Spirit,"

My Dear “Kindred Spirit,”

It’s midnight, and I can’t sleep.

I write when that happens.

Granted, I don’t usually write blog posts when that happens, but I do write. And there’s got to be a first time for everything… So this particular midnight I’m writing a blog post! You’ll have to forgive me if it ends up being a little weird. Midnight does strange things to me, and midnight writings especially tend to end up a little odd.

So tonight’s topic is: life!

Of course! Why think about something that would help me sleep when I could be thinking about things that will make me more wide awake than ever?!

So lately I’ve been pondering life. My life, that is.

It’s just that it’s turning out to be so different from what I expected, and that has made me realize something:

God doesn’t own a cookie cutter.

And sometimes I kinda wish he did.

My life would be so much simpler if I knew what to expect. Like, if I could look at examples of different life stories and pick which one I wanted.

God refuses to be that boring, though.

Isn’t it amazing just how unique everyone is?? Billions of people in this world, and every one of them is different. They all have different looks, personalities, interests, experiences and life stories.

It’s amazing. It’s what makes life so interesting. It’s what makes life possible. As the good book says (yes, I’m totally going all Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof on you now: “As the good book says; when a poor man eats a chicken, one of them is sick!” “Where in the good book does it say that?!” “Well, maybe it doesn’t say that exactly, but somewhere in there it says something about a chicken!!”)

Sorry. Random movie quote over. Hey, it’s midnight thirty now!

But as I was saying… as the good book says: “the body is not made up of one part but of many… if the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? … If they were all one part, where would the body be?” (That’s bits and pieces of 1 Corinthians chapter 12, if you were wondering).

We need to be unique in order for this world – and especially the body of Christ (aka the Church) to function.

So it begs the question: why do we all try to be the same??

Why do we try to have the same experiences, stories, talents, and interests as everyone else?

Why do I want to get married at the same age as all my friends? (besides the fact that I’ve got a biological timeclock ticking here, people!! I did NOT just say that…)

Well, for that matter, why do I want to have the same number of children my mom had?

Why do I want to have the same interests my brothers have?

Why do I want to have my sister’s “girly girl” personality and looks?

To put it simply, why do I try to copy other people’s lives??

Why can’t I be happy to embrace my own life, my own story, my own adventure?!

I know God has a great story for me. He’s got some amazing adventures all planned out for me. I’ve already experienced some of them, and they were awesome!

But it’s hard to trust.

You see, when I look at my parent’s or grandparent’s story, I know how it turns out. Well, not the whole thing… but I get the overall picture. I get to see what it looks like, and know that it’s relatively safe. Everything seems to be turning out ok.

I know my mom got her husband and homestead and family. I know my grandparents got their 50 year marriage together. So my horribly human self (another random side note just because it’s now 1 AM and I can totally get away with side notes: I really like the term “horribly human.” I think I’m gonna start using it more. Like when I meet someone I can be all: “Hi! My name is Naphi, and I’m horribly human!”)

Anyway.

My horribly human self sees that life lived, the good, “safe” outcome, and I immediately want the recipe.

I want the instructions so I can follow them and get a good husband, a homestead, and 9 or 10 (or 12) kids.

I want the instructions so I can follow them and have a strong, 50 year marriage with the love of my life.

I want the recipe!

Except that God don’t do recipes. He does adventures!

He wants me to follow him and trust him on this adventure. No recipe or road map. Just me and him, figuring it out as we go.

It’s not gonna be my parent’s story. It’s not gonna be my grandparent’s story. Or my brother’s or sister’s or cousin’s or friend’s or anyone else in this world’s story.

It’s gonna be my story.

And only God knows what the ending will be.

That’s the scary part. Not knowing the outcome. Having to trust that God knows what he’s doing, and this crazy, wild adventure will turn out right in the end.

I do have a choice, though. I can fight it. I can keep trying to follow someone else’s story, look for a “recipe” to follow, and hope that it will somehow give me that “safe,” predictable outcome.

Or I can embrace the adventure.

I can settle in, hang on tight, and enjoy the ride.

‘Cuz this God of mine: he doesn’t do boring. It’s gonna be a wild ride. The adventure of a lifetime (literally). That I am quite sure of!

And if I have the nerve and the trust to willingly embrace it; I’m gonna have the time of my life discovering what he has in store for me!

So here’s to adventures, wild rides, map-less road trips, and (here I go with Fiddler on the Roof again…) – as Tevye would say:

“To life! To life! L’chai-im. L’chaim, l’chaim, TO LIFE!!”

Love, N.

P.S. I SO need to re-watch that movie sometime soon! Right now I think I need to go try the whole bed-and-sleep thing again, though…