Makes sense

Dating. A natural phenomenon for everyone. Or at least for everyone, but me. For much of my adult life when it comes to dating I have felt like a kid who has pressed her nose against the candy store window looking at all the sweet treats, but unable to indulge. That is, until now.

I had my first date today and I have to say...I now know why God protected me from this. I do not like it! There's too much pressure and as someone with a sensitive heart I know that I was not cut out for all this dating stuff! I was a nervous wreck beforehand and during. Granted, it was a date with someone whose first language is not the same as mine, but still...it was completely unsettling. I understand now why in His wisdom the Lord spared me these roller coaster feelings/emotions...dating is hard.

Dilema

A friend and I had a lovely evening out tonight. We went and saw a movie and then followed that up with a yummy Thai meal. (I'm at the place where if I have any more pizza or pasta I may throw up.) She left me off at the bus stop and went on home.

The ride was just like any other bus ride...a little too fast around the corners and throw-the-brakes-on-so-everyone-goes-flying-forward kind of driving. I exited at my stop and a guy around my age got off at the same time.  I started to walk up my street when he asked me a question in Italian. Of course, I have no idea what he asked me as my Italian is elementary at best. So, he began to chat with me in English. He asked me where I was from, what am I doing here in Rome...basic questions. And I was completely unprepared with how to handle the situation as I've never been in this situation before.

When all was said and done he asked me for my phone number and whether or not we could meet at the corner bar (that's what coffee shops in Italy are called). I wasn't comfortable giving him my number, nor do I know it after 8 months of living here, and I wasn't comfortable meeting him without thinking about it/praying about it first. So, in the end he gave me his number and told me to call him. And that's where I find myself now. Uncharted territory for me. I don't have a clue what to do.

On the one hand I am flattered and kinda-sorta giddy that I have finally been asked out, but on the other hand I'm in a foreign culture and don't have a clue as to how to handle this situation. What to do? What to do?

Giving myself some credit

I was reading a book (surprise, surprise) in which one of the characters had recently moved to the US from France. In the midst of the story the character is relating a challenge to another character and the thought crosses the other's mind. It went something like this: "She had to be tough as nails. Not everyone could pull up stakes and move to a foreign country. That took real guts." And it struck my heart. That's me. The character's talking about me.

Yes, there have been a lot of challenges. Yes, it's been hard. Yes, I've wanted to go home. Yes, it's been rewarding. Yes, it's been fun. Yes, it's been....whatever this time has been it has shown me that I do have guts. Granted, I trust that God brought me here, that He called me here, but couldn't I have also just as easily ignored that call as easily as I obeyed it? I think so. And yet, I chose to follow. That takes faith. That takes courage.

I am looking at my wall right now and it's covered with pictures of me with my friends and family. Today's one of those days where I just want to be home with them. I miss them all and there are some challenges right now and it seems easier to me to escape to home rather than deal with them. I don't know who this person is sometimes that's here. She's not who I was when I got here....and while that's often good, sometimes I don't like who I've become. I have to ask Jesus to make me into the person He wants me to be. I need to trust that the Holy Spirit is at work in my heart and my life. And I need to give myself some credit and cut myself some slack. I've done something most people couldn't do outside of their wildest dreams. I left everything behind in order to follow God and my heart. And that takes some guts...

Risking

When I was a little girl I wanted to be an astronaut. I thought that would be the coolest thing EVER. I wrote to NASA for a project in the second grade and they wrote back and included the most amazing pictures of space and astronauts floating above the earth. I wrote to Sally Ride, the first woman in space, and she wrote me back and even sent an autographed picture. My parents took me to the Kennedy Space Center on a visit to Florida and Space Camp was a favorite movie. I was obsessed.

I dreamed that one day I would float in the great black expanse with the moon behind me and our planet rotating in front of me. I wasn't even deterred after the Challenger tragedy. As is the case of many childhood dreams, mine slowly died for a number of reasons and I no longer found myself wanting to shoot off into the final frontier. (When I was in high school and past the stage of wanting to be an astronaut I met Buzz Aldrin, the second man to walk on the moon, at a local charity tennis event. That was by far one of the coolest moments of my life.)

Since then I haven't really had any one thing that I've wanted to do with my life. Many people grow up knowing exactly what they want to do with the rest of their lives and that's what they do. I didn't. I have always had these vague ideas of what I wanted. I wanted to write. I wanted to be an author. I wanted to be a wedding planner. I wanted to write for a travel magazine. I wanted to....really, so many things.

I earned my undergrad degree in Broadcast Journalism, but decided shortly after graduation and a job at a local TV station that that wasn't what I wanted to do with my life. Huh. Now what? Sure. There were a lot of things that I would 'love to do,' but reality is another thing. Bills. The future. Life. All those things that take money. And so I found myself in higher education. Really, it was an 'accidental' career path. It was only supposed to be a temporary stop until I discovered what I really wanted to do and where God wanted me. Well, it's 9 years later and I'm still in higher ed. And really I am living out my dream for the most part. I'm living in Italy and doing life with students. I am where God wants me to be. How many people can say that? Not many. Still, there's that part of me that still craves publication, writing deadlines, wedding planning, and all of those creative outlets.

So, what I decided this weekend was this: I am going to look for ways to write freelance for travel magazines/websites, wedding design magazines/websites, and other places where I can practice my craft.    I am going to write short stories and take the pressure off myself to write my NOVEL.

I am going to put myself out there. I am going to risk. I am going to be vulnerable and see where it leads. I can't sit back anymore and call myself a writer if I'm not writing. I can't sit back and let life pass me by while I read other people's published work...and sometimes work that's not all that good at that! I am energized by this prospect and scared all at the same time. I suppose that this is normal and natural any time that you put yourself out there, anytime that you pursue your dreams. But I'd rather put myself out there and fail then find myself at the end of my life wondering what could have been had I tried. I am taking a deep breath. And I am leaping into the vast unknown...I suppose this is what it would feel like if I'd gone to space...breathless, a little scary, and exhilarating all at the same time.

A quote to live by

A friend of mine recently quoted this to me: “A woman’s heart should be so hidden in Christ, that a man should have to seek Him first to find her.” Maya Angelou


Ooh...that's a good one and one I want to live out. I want this to be true of me. 

Letting it out

Let's face it...there are a lot of things in our lives that we are often powerless to change. No matter how desperately we wish things were different...they just aren't. And sometimes you just feel like you want to scream because there's really nothing you can do to change the circumstance you're in because it's just the way life is and it's where God has you at the moment. Well...

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

Whew. That might not have changed anything, but at the same time...I feel better. :)

The curse that is writer's block...

I've been writing stories since elementary school. I think it may have all started the year Mrs. Anderson had each of us in her second grade class write letters and stories to and for the class' mascot, Paddington Bear. It was one of my favorite things about her class. I still remember the week it was my turn. It was the week my family traveled to Florida to visit my grandparents. I described everything in painstaking detail for Paddington and embellished quite a bit along the way. Then, when I was in the 7th grader my english teacher, Mr. Swann from Melbourne, Australia, encouraged my writing more than any other teacher I'd ever had. He encouraged my imagination and my love for painting pictures with words. I was hooked. And I suppose that my natural inclination towards anything containing the written word helped as well. I consume books...always have. I love crossword puzzles, word jumbles, Yahoo's Twist Text. I love words.

I wrote and was an editor for my high school newspaper. I majored in Broadcast Journalism and wrote for Phoenix's Fox station for a time. I wrote for a Christian newspaper for over a year. And for the last 10 years I have wanted to write a novel. It's there. It's inside me. I just can't seem to find it.

Sometimes I feel like it's so close to the surface only to have it skirt away from me as if it's a mirage in a barren desert. Sometimes I hear the conversations between characters inside me, but once I begin to write they cease. It's there. I know it is. I just can't seem to overcome this writers block that has plagued me for too many years. I want to find my story.  I want to find my voice as an author. What do I have to say? Who is it that I want to create? I hate writers block!

I've never been as disciplined as other writers. I don't sit down and do character sketches. I don't do plot charts and figure out where my story is headed before I sit down to write. Rather, I've always just sat down and began to write, letting the words pour forth and my fingers move over the keyboard until words appear on a screen. Perhaps this is my mistake. Maybe I need more discipline.