GOD: What do you do for pleasure?
DONNA: I write.
GOD: You used to do that for pleasure. Lately it only frustrates you.
DONNA: True...
GOD: What do you do for YOUR enjoyment...? For yourself?
DONNA: ...I write.
GOD: You used to. Now it’s about “work” and serving others with what you think they want, through your writing. You lost your joy...
DONNA: ...Yeah...
GOD: What do you do for pleasure...?
DONNA: ...Photography.
GOD: It’s the same as the writing...
DONNA: Yeah...
The above was the counselling God set upon my heart this morning, after driving the kids to school.
My husband works shiftwork (at a Boys’ Correctional Centre) and when he’s on dayshift, and I have mornings to myself, a war breaks out in my mind as soon as I drop the kids at school, which always starts with “Now what am I going to do...?”
For reasons I do not know, I struggle when it comes to deciding how I want to spend the morning. I wrestle with “I should” and “I fear” and other such things. I was virtually raised by the spirit of Intimidation and the spirit of Fear, and while God has freed me of that, when my confidence is low, I find the old anxieties want to play again.
Recently, I’ve been praying (in a whiney, impatient, and sometimes angry tone J ) “God, release me from the self-imposed prison within my soul...” ...I said, “God, I don’t want to spend the next thirty years or so living inside this head. I’m tired. I don’t want to live this way anymore.”
Suicide was not an option. IS NOT an option. Though that was something my soul has entertained many times in the past, this time it wasn’t there. I did not welcome such thoughts. Neither was I depressed as I had been up until last Christmas. I was simply tired.
The other night, I was standing at the kitchen sink, washing up, praying, “Holy Spirit, You’re supposed to be my Counsellor... You’re not doing a very good job...” Good thing He loves me! J but He did not respond...
Later on, I returned to my computer and pressed on one of the several writing.com pages I had left open earlier. I started to read a poem, and, as it usually happens with me, I felt the writer’s soul, and with this particular writer, I felt the beauty and tenderness of their spirit, and I knew I would not only connect well with this person, but this would be someone I could love and trust and I wanted to get to know who they were. It was a very strong sensation that came over me; far stronger than any I'd felt before. I had to know this person!!!
As I read on, I thought, “That line sounds familiar...” At first, I thought I must’ve read it before. I don’t have the greatest memory, and it’s not uncommon for me to forget my own writings let alone someone else’s. Then, as I read the very next line, I realised it was my poem, and the person I found beauty in was me. I was shocked, to say the least. And quite embarrassed, I must confess...
I felt ashamed that I had liked myself. (I still feel ashamed on confessing this out loud...) In fact, it felt as though I had been ‘pleasuring’ myself, and been caught in the act. But then I realised God had allowed that to happen so I could see myself as He sees me, and my heart melted before Him... It was the very first time, in almost 45 years, that I liked something about me – and that only because I didn’t realise it was me.
I’ve never been overly fond of myself. I’m still not. So, seeing me as God sees me was a shock, but, on realising the view of my character was not born from my judgment but His, I received it into my heart, and welcomed a greater measure of His love...
...When I awake of a morning, there’s always an internal dialogue taking place. And it’s my voice. It’s as though part of me is taking inventory all night and as soon as I awake, it feels it has to tell me where I went wrong, where I failed, and highlight all that I did not achieve, during the previous day. And by the time I get out of bed, I am already damning myself, and starting the day on a major negative... which is always aimed at me...
However, the morning after God reflected His view of me to my heart, and after I had pleaded with the Holy Spirit to counsel me and give me a word that would help me cope with being me – even if it was a harsh one – I woke to hear, “Be nice to yourself...” The thought stunned me, but on agreeing to do so, peace was ushered into my heart.
BUT, this morning the familiar scenario played out before me. I awoke to recall the things I didn’t achieve over the weekend – such as writing – and my heart grew heavy...
Later on, long after Tim had gone to work, the kids were at school, and, after tending to a few errands at the shops, I had time to kill and because I was heavy in heart for what I considered my failures, old anxieties were allowed to come in and play... and that’s when the above conversation took place... and God started the counselling process.
I drove out to Soldiers Beach, where I sat in my car and started to record the thoughts for this blog. I soon realised I was ‘working’ again. Wondering how I could word this for those who care to read. Trying to figure out how I could keep it short... and whatnot... And, as I grew anxious once more, I soon held no joy over writing.
Through all this, I recalled what a friend of mine had recently said to me, “Write for yourself...” and I added that to what God was trying to tell me, and, as I sat there in my car, staring out over the rolling waves and on to the rising clouds, wondering what I would do to ‘please’ myself, so my joy would return, it hit me... and I said, “God, I’m going home to write... because that pleases me...” and I know He smiled.
MIND YOU, I was not going home to write what I think someone wanted me to write. I instantly chose to write what I wanted to right, not what I thought I 'should' write... You see, I can’t do that. I thought I had to, but I can’t. It adds too much pressure to my soul – far more pressure than I can cope with, and it just cripples the talents God has given me. So much so that writing became a chore, photography became a chore, and I got to a place where I asked myself “Why do I bother...?!”
There are so many ‘someones’ out there. How can I possibly write in a way that will please all of them? How can I possibly take photos that please all of them...? Besides, when did I start becoming a 'man-pleaser' again... (as I was as a child, a teen, and as a young adult...) I have to write from my heart. I have to be true to my passion, my heart and my conscience, and then hope and pray my words will bless someone somewhere. If I don't, then the talent isn't mine...
I love writing. I love photography... but they were becoming dead weights about my heart... God was right [of course, lol!] ...I used to write and take photos just for pleasure. For me. And that because I found peace in those places. But I lost that peace...
I am a strong believer in using one’s talents, and encouraging others to use theirs, because I am absolutely convinced that God gave us talents not simply to use, but to meet Him in, as well. I believe God meets us in our talents, and that’s why those talents bring such peace... but I had pushed that aside, all the while wondering why God wasn’t talking to me through my talents as He used to, and not connecting the dots. I was using my talents as one uses the necessary tools in a job that pays. Only, my ‘job’ (writing and photography) does not pay. For me, these things are hobbies... And most would agree that a hobby is used to help you tune out from the stresses of life, and bring forth peace before you step back out into the “real” world...
My desire is to find the beauty within people, life and circumstances, and the beauty and love of God, and reflect that to the world... but the pressure of performing to imagined desires of others caused me to forget that. But, now that I remember. I’m writing for pleasure... I’m taking photos for pleasure... and through it all (through my talents and my ‘hobbies’) I hope and pray someone somewhere is blessed somehow... And now I hear more clearly, and with greater understanding, what my friend said to me a few days ago: “Write for yourself...” [Thank you, David, for planting that seed in my heart... <3]
So, here I am writing because it pleases me to do so, because it blesses me greatly to bless someone through something I’ve experienced, and because here, in this place of peace, I am closer to God...
Oh... and while I hate writing long blogs, I have to write at a length that the thoughts demand – which brings me to my note of apology: Forgive me for the length of this... but it would not be shortened... :)
With love,
Donna
xoxox
PS. I must ask: What do you do that brings your pleasure..