Passion

Happy Memorial Day! I’m not sure if that is the correct terminology for it seems far too flippant for a day meant to remember those who died protecting our freedoms. However, it’s an important enough holiday that I don’t feel it should be ignored or overlooked. Memorable Memorial Day makes me fear the reason for it’s “memorable” status of not to be forgotten. Too often, that may have a negative connotation. Somber Memorial Day has us dressed in black and not toting the red, white and blue clothing and decorating our homes with waving flags. Face it, how many of you do NOT have on this triad of colors. Well, I’ll just start with have a happy day on this national holiday granting most people a day off of work.

I’m finishing up a bulletin board for my church based on next week’s training of the HEROES program, a vital project for trained Stephen Ministers to assist the families of our deployed troops. When I was talking about this program earlier in the month, I brought up the need for all of us to have heroes. As the people gathered with me described others worthy of hero status, their eyes began to sparkle, their bodies became taller and their voices began to boldly proclaim individuals who have been a focal point for their lives. Famous people quickly joined the list: Ronald Reagan, Dolly Parton, Madame Curie, George Patton and Jackie Robinson. Other monikers could be found in good ol’ Wikipedia, but lacked instant recognition: Irena Sendler and Jimmy Doolittle. The last group were only known to the speaker: a sixth grade teacher, a Boy Scout Master, a youth minister and a family who fought leukemia that was attacking their young son. Although conversation started as a trickle, we could have stayed all afternoon detailing people deserving of the title “hero”.

I concluded our meeting by reminding all of our Stephen Ministers of the characteristics and personal traits that illustrate a hero. All of the people surrounding me easily fit each adjective through their dedicated service to people in need. How powerful to realize that even the everyday tasks diligently performed can change the direction and speed of other’s lives.

While we were cleaning up, our pastor came to me to point out my clear passion as I talked to others. According to him, this passion is boldly apparent in the things that I write and discussions that I lead. He hears that inner emotion that bursts from my soul when I express items that are near and dear to my heart. I’m not timid or apprehensive to lay it all out on the table for others to examine. Such investigation is short, for my words are plain and my heart is open.

Passion is more than my love of a warm brownie with cold ice cream dripping with fudge. It’s not that cuddly blanket that wraps my body as I read that special book for hours on end. It’s past that feeling of wearing new shoes while sporting this outfit I got for a deal envied by the Vegas high-rollers.

Passion is my daughter, grown into a dedicated wife, loving mother and true Christian in word and deed. It’s my husband and my demand for better care for those individuals wracked with chronic pain through brain injury. Passion is those grandsons. (Check out my Facebook for a thunderous t-ball hit! Makes a grandma proud!) It’s my love for all kids and the urgency to provide them safety, nourishment, love and a chocolate chip cookie. Passion means the pride deep in my gut for all those military who serve our country 24/7. It’s the urgency of the disintegration of my pain as it tries to dissolve my spirit with each ache, tumble and that goofy Monkee walk that is now my gait.

Where would we be without passion? A dull lump mechanically completing required tasks while coasting through our days on autopilot. Not me! I have this marvelous blog that allows me to express my inner thoughts and needs, describe my soul and share my life. The remarkable part is that people actually take time to read these thoughts. There are over 2,000 hits in 10 countries. Wow! After a lifetime of being the little sister, I have a spotlight. I can finally weep against childhood abuse, divorce, miscarriage, degenerative discs, extra bones, fibromyalgia and the mighty three. Meanwhile, I brag about family, church, home, love, friends, support and Skype. I’m a grandma you know.

This blog has taught me that I am a plethora. I am not just a teacher. I am not just a person with the mighty three. I’m not just a wife or mother. I’m not just a Cub fan. (Hey, they actually won yesterday.) I have so many tiny pieces that must intricately join to form ME. I have to learn to mold my spirit when one piece shatters and another erupts. I must be brave enough to let other parts blossom while I bid good-bye to a favorite few. God holds them all together as He uses my passions to frame my soul. Life is good!

Ways God Reminds Me through Chronic Pain the Life is Good:
It lets me discover my passions.