Thursday, December 18, 2014

Reflections upon Turning 30

I recently read an article that was being shared on Facebook called “What You Learn in Your 40s.”  Having just turned 30, it made me think about the decade I just finished.  Mostly, it made me want to evaluate what exactly it was that I learned in my 20s, if for no other reason than to prove to myself that they served a purpose.

We all had our own ideas of what adulthood would be like when we were kids.  When I was a kid, hitting my 20s was pretty much always the goal.  I was convinced that was when things got completely fabulous.  I’d attend an important college somewhere and live in the dorms just like Felicity; I’d be able to drive, wear high heels and lipstick, and stay out late; I’d go to concerts and parties all the time and drink fancy cocktails (note: fancy = umbrella and maraschino cherry); later, I’d have my own apartment and an important job in an office somewhere, whereat I would wear my high heels and lipstick.  The 20s was where it was at.

School
Eventually – inevitably – came the reality check: When I actually entered my 20s, I did not start wearing high heels and lipstick, much less begin carrying on some super-duper, exciting life.  I didn’t even go away to college and live in the dorms.   Instead, I continued wearing my usual flip flops and chapstick while I lived at home with my parents to save money and worked on finishing my associate’s degree at a community college I hated attending (also to save money).  I didn’t go to many concerts or parties but instead suffered through 20-credit terms so I could graduate early and move on to the next thing.

Service
The next thing turned out to be a Christian service project in rural Baja California, Mexico.  For four months, I lived at an orphanage for children with developmental disabilities.  With 15 Christian guys and girls around my age, I worked with the kids, studied the Bible, and prayed about the future.  No high heels and lipstick yet.  I did, however, get my glamorous dorm experience by living in a tiny cabin with seven other girls.  (Some things sound so much more fun in your head…)

Unemployment/Work
When I finished my stint in Mexico, I was no longer sure about where I wanted to go to finish my bachelor’s degree or even what I wanted my major to be.  Having no money, I returned to living with my parents and applied for dozens of jobs.  It took a while, but I finally got a full-time job working 32 hours per week as an educational assistant and a part-time job working retail.  Many weeks I worked upwards of 50 hours; some weeks I worked as much as 60.  Still not many nights out on the town, but I saved everything I earned for my return to school.

School
Upon returning to school, after an almost three-year absence, I was ready.  But I couldn’t help feeling a bit humbled.  Many of my peers had just graduated with their degrees and here I was having to take 100-level prerequisites for my newly declared English major.  I hated feeling like I was behind.  My 22 year old self also didn’t care for taking classes with 18 year olds, fresh out of high school.  Had I made a huge mistake that kept me from being where I was supposed to be?  But going back to school was the best thing for me, and it happened at the right time.  I regained a confidence in myself that I hadn’t felt since high school.  School was a home I used to know and love well, and it welcomed me back like a long lost sister.

Detour
Prior to my final year before graduation, I took my professors’ advice and researched graduate school programs.  Academia is a funny world, and if you’re not careful, it sucks you up into its intrinsic self-importance.  (How could I possibly get on in life without my master’s and eventually Ph. D. in some noble facet of literary arts?  I might as well throw my brain away because I would hardly have use for it outside of higher education.)  I chose a grad school in Boston and moved there.  I attended orientation and my first week of classes.  And then I had an epiphany.  I already had student loans to pay back from undergrad.  If I continued, I would have a lot more student loans to pay back for grad school.  And when all was said and done, neither school nor degree could guarantee me a job that would enable me to pay back the student loans in a reasonable amount of time.  When I thought about it, I realized I was taking a serious gamble.  The following Monday (you know, after the epiphany), I went down to my school’s administration building and withdrew.

Unemployment/Work
I ended up returning home to Oregon, age 26 by this time and once again overwhelmed with uncertainty.  Wasn’t I supposed to be settled in that important office job by now?  I applied for many jobs but didn’t get a single response.  Frustrated and ready for something new, I moved to Central California to live near extended family.  I found a job, I was enjoying my family and new surroundings… and then I started getting to know Ethan long-distance.  It didn’t take long before I moved back to Oregon so we could continue our relationship in person.

Unemployment/Work
Back in Oregon, I was thrilled by the new relationship, but yet again, I found myself unemployed and unable to get a job.  I sent out résumé after résumé and didn’t get as much as a single response.  Eventually, I temped-to-hire as the receptionist at a law firm in town.  I told myself that it was temporary, that I didn’t get my degree so I could be a receptionist, but without any other options before me, I remained in that position for an entire year.  At that point, I was promoted to legal assistant.  I had just turned 29.

Here’s what I now find interesting and a little funny in hindsight:

1) When I started at the law firm, I did dress up in nice business attire and wear heels.  And what do you know?  The heels brought on back problems!  Once I figured out the source of my pain, I stopped wearing them.  Gradually, I also stopped dressing up so nice.  Ultimately, when it came down to looking all put together or sleeping in a little extra in the morning, my vanity shamelessly took a backseat.

2) I never did start wearing lipstick.  Whenever I tried putting it on, I was put off by my fake, “painted” appearance.  I also couldn’t stand feeling self-conscious about licking my lips, accidentally smearing it, or having to reapply it.

3) When I became a legal assistant, I finally had my “important office job.”  But it was also the most stressful and frustrating job I’d ever had, and it made me miserable.

4) For all my childhood fantasies of staying out late, going to concerts and parties, it turns out Taisa the Adult loves nothing more than to watch Dateline mysteries on the couch with her husband, try out new recipes, or curl up with a good book in a quiet house.  Come to find out, Taisa the Adult is an introvert and a homebody.

My big realization in all of this is I didn’t “arrive” in my 20s (by my childhood estimation) until I was 29.  And even then, everything I had thought would make my life fabulous instead turned out to be the very things I didn’t want for myself.  If the 20s are meant to be a time of floundering along as you try to find your way, as mine were, then maybe the 30s are meant to be… Well, I guess we’ll see.  In any case, here it is – here’s what I learned in my 20s:

  1. It’s okay not to know what to do.  If you believe that God has a plan for you, then rest in that knowledge and wait until He shows you the next step to take.  In the meantime, just keep doing the best you know how to do with what’s in front of you right now.
  2. You can’t compare what you’re doing with what other people are doing.  Everyone is on their own path (as hokey as that sounds).  Make the right decisions for you based on where you are at in your life.  Prayerfully walk through the doors God seems to be opening for you.  Don’t keep beating on the doors He doesn’t.
  3. Life isn’t any better over there.  They have the same thing over there that they have here.
  4. Your teachers and high school counselor were lying to you.  A college degree doesn’t ensure that you’ll get a good job when you grow up, or even a job at all.  Oftentimes, it has much more to do with who you know or the experience you manage to pick up along the way.
  5. Don’t ever try to force something to happen, work, or fit.  If it’s not right, then it’s not right.  Open your mind to other possibilities.  It might mean waiting for the right thing to come along at the right time or even accepting “no” for an answer.
  6. Don’t feel bad or dumb if you don’t know something, and don’t try to fake it.  Find someone who does know and ask them.  Learning is empowering.
  7. To-do lists have the power to save your sanity.  If you’re feeling overwhelmed, make a to-do list, writing down absolutely everything that is on your mind to do or remember, no matter how small.  Complete a couple of the easiest tasks first to cross off the list and give yourself the satisfying taste of accomplishment.  Then tackle the biggest, hairiest thing that gives you a knot in your stomach whenever you think about it.  You will grow calmer and more confident with every accomplished task.
  8. Here’s one I learned from my mom: If you’ve got “the blahs,” it helps lift your spirit to “freshen up”: Brush your teeth, take a shower, shave your legs, clip your fingernails, paint your toe nails.  Small improvements inspire bigger improvements.
  9. Don’t get rid of any clothes because you’ve gained or lost weight or because it’s not in style anymore but instead store them in large Rubbermaid containers.  You will be glad you saved them later.
  10. Don’t wear make-up on a regular basis.  Then when you do, people will make it a point to tell you how great you look.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

My Happiness Project

I’ve been feeling very introspective lately.  I guess there are a few reasons for this.  I just turned 30 last month, so I think I’m naturally inclined to examine my life at a milepost like this and evaluate where I am in relation to where I want to be.  Also, I quit my job almost two months ago, which automatically created a clearer distinction between who I am and what I do.  Lastly, I recently had a friend recommend a book to me that turned out to be a perfect guide through what I’d like to call my 1/3-of-the-way life crisis.  (I’m being dramatic.  I’m actually very happy and nowhere near a crisis.  Moreover, I have no intention of living to 90.)  The book is called The Happiness Project, by Gretchen Rubin, and I very much recommend it – especially if you’re interested in improving your overall well-being and you’re ready to make some changes in your life.

The book is not written by a self-help guru but a 30-something lawyer-turned-writer who decided she wanted to get more out of life by maximizing her happiness.  Rubin performed months of research, exploring happiness from many different approaches (e.g., philosophy, psychology, popular opinion, Oprah), and then she applied what she learned by examining her life and evaluating aspects of it that either contributed to or detracted from her happiness.  Based on this information, Rubin created resolutions in twelve different areas of her life (Energy, Marriage, Work, Parenthood, Leisure, Friendship, Money, Eternity, Passion, Mindfulness, Attitude, and overall Happiness).  For each area, she spent one month focusing on the resolutions she’d created to improve her happiness in that area so that, theoretically, she would have increased her comprehensive happiness in a year’s time.

I can’t imagine duplicating what Rubin came up with in terms of the length of her project, but her efforts have inspired me to become more proactive about my own happiness.  All too often, I am my own worst enemy, thwarting my happiness or directly causing my unhappiness.  [I find comfort in knowing Apostle Paul struggled with this very thing: “For I do not understand my own actions.  For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” (Romans 7:15).]  For example, I know that I would feel happy if I lost weight.  I also know that baking and eating chewy peanut butter cookies will not help me lose weight.  And yet, when I get that sweet tooth in the evening, what do I end up doing?  The exact thing that will keep me from being ultimately happy.

By the way, this is one huge truth I have learned over the years but have to continually remind myself: Instant gratification is a liar.  It speaks to us, “Do this and you’ll feel good.”  We obey this voice and maybe we feel good initially, but it’s not the kind of feeling good that lasts.  It’s not happiness.  And in fact, more often than not, instant gratification not only doesn’t bring happiness; it brings unhappiness.  As the sweet peanut butter taste fades from my mouth, feelings of guilt take over.  I’m mad at myself for my own weakness and frustrated knowing that I just set myself further back from my goal.

The point is, I have the power to affect my happiness, whether for the good or the bad.  We have our current levels of happiness based on a number of factors, some of which we have little to no control over (genetics, “age, gender, ethnicity, marital status, income, health, occupation, and religious affiliation”) but there is room to increase our happiness if we work at it a bit (Rubin,Gretchen. The Happiness Project.  New York: HarperCollins, 2009, pg. 6).  I realize the irony of that last statement, but it’s true.  Anything worth having in life requires, at the very least, hard work and sacrifice.  Why should happiness be any different?  If my happiness is tied to my physical fitness, then I need to establish a pattern of denying myself those things that will reduce my fitness and doing the things that will increase it.  If my happiness is tied to my marriage, then I need to do my part to contribute to my relationship with my husband and not do or say things that will harm it.  If my happiness is tied to a certain passion or interest, then I need to work out a way to include it in my life, even if not in the ideal way that I desire.  These aspects of happiness are up to me and the work that I put in.

While Rubin was working to identify her resolutions for the year, she noticed a pattern of similarities in the types of resolutions she wanted to make, and she ended up distilling them into a list of principles she dubbed her “Twelve Commandments.”  On her blog, she encouraged her readers to create their own “Twelve Commandments” and share them with her.  I’m still working on defining my resolutions, but for now I created my own Twelve Commandments to get started.  I admit I stole a couple from the book and then came up with the rest on my own.  What would yours be?

My Twelve Commandments

1.      Be Taisa.

2.      “Be still, and know that I am God.”  (Psalm 46:10)

3.      Identify the problem.

4.      Wherever you are is a great place to start.

5.      Do the thing you’re avoiding; If you can’t get out of it, get into it; Do the next right thing.

6.      Make yourself uncomfortable: “If you don’t get uncomfortable, nothing is going to change.”  (Jillian Michaels)

7.      This is not an emergency or a tragedy.

8.      Feeling down?  Focus on someone or something other than yourself.

9.      Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.

10.   Don’t let fear have the final word.

11.    In all things, give thanks.

12.  “Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it.”  (L. M. Montgomery)

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

To My Fellow Perfectionists, with Love

By Taisa Efseaff Maffey


It is my personal belief that perfectionism should be considered an anxiety disorder.  While it's not something that is clinically diagnosed, I can remember my mom calling me a perfectionist from an early age.

It’s perfectionism that impelled me to come home on my first day of fifth grade and start working on math problems from the textbook I had just received – problems that I hadn’t even been assigned to do.  It’s perfectionism that would drive me to go shoot hoops at an athletic club in town when I was in eighth grade, after already finishing a two-hour basketball practice at school.  It’s perfectionism that regularly kept me studying and working on papers for hours at a time in college, to the exclusion of almost all other activities.  It’s perfectionism that has always kept me awake at night, thinking about everything I have going on and all the things that can go wrong.  Based on these descriptions, you might be able to infer that perfectionism is when a person suffers anxiety in any and all aspects of life as a result of the fear of failure.

To the perfectionist, there are certainly varying degrees of failure, but in the end, anything less than a perfect performance or outcome is tainted with some amount of failure.  Getting an A- for a grade instead of an A, for example.  Not playing a piano piece all the way through without mistakes.  Committing to a diet and exercise plan, then skipping a day of absolute faithfulness (as I sit here eating trail mix with my own addition of mini-marshmallows).  Trying to bake perfect chocolate chip cookies and having them turn out dry.  Writing a blog and then later findingh typos.  To the imperfectionist, all of this may sound completely ridiculous.  After all, no one is perfect, and nothing is wrong with an A-.  Except the minus, says the perfectionist.

While perfectionism is not an easy characteristic to live with, either for the perfectionist or those closest to the perfectionist, it does have its virtues.  Perfectionists are detail-oriented and thorough, they don’t cut corners in their work, and with higher than average standards for productivity and performance, the results they yield also tend to be above average.


But the drawbacks of perfectionism are obvious and harsh.  By holding myself up to impossible standards (i.e., perfection), I set myself up for failure every time.  Then the danger is never feeling like what I do is good enough.  And if my identity is closely tied to what I do (which it usually is), then I never feel quite good enough.  Ultimately, what helps me deal with this anxiety and fear of failure is to stop looking at myself through my eyes and instead remind myself of how God sees me.  Psalm 103:13-14 says,

“As a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear Him.  For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.”

This verse may seem insulting at first glance.  God sees us as nothing more than dust?  But according to the Bible, we came from the dust (Genesis 2:7), and one day we will inevitably return to it (Job 34:15).  (Cheery news, right?)  It’s comforting to me that God recognizes that, really, I’m just dust, and instead of feeling disappointed in me or by me, He feels compassion and sympathy for me.  Because He doesn’t have the same expectations for me that I do, He isn’t disappointed when I don’t reach some silly, arbitrary standard of excellence that I come up with.  So if God doesn’t expect me to be the perfect student, the perfect writer, the perfect cook or baker, the perfect wife, daughter, sister, friend… What does He expect?

“And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all His ways and to love Him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to keep the commandments of the Lord and His statutes which I command you today for your good?” (Deuteronomy 10:12-13)

When a Pharisee asked him what the greatest commandment is,

“Jesus said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.’  This is the first and great commandment.  And the second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’  On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” (Matthew 22:37-40)

When it comes down to it, this is all that really matters.  God doesn’t value me based on my achievements or lack thereof, and He certainly doesn't expect me to be perfect.  It’s good to set goals and have above-average standards for ourselves, but ultimately it’s when we’re loving God first, others second, and ourselves last, that all is right with us.  Not perfect, but right.  And that should be the goal.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Living Thanksgiving

By Taisa Efseaff Maffey


I never thought I would already be doing a themed post, but with Thanksgiving coming up, I could hardly resist.  For me, Thanksgiving is a holiday that inspires reflection, and if there’s anything that writers feed off of, it’s reflection.  But even reflection can become routine.  I regularly reflect on my life and thank God for my blessings: eternal salvation, good health and physical mobility, marriage to my soulmate, wonderful family and friends, a nice home, a reliable vehicle to drive, good food to eat, etc.  It may seem silly, but I also make it a point to thank God for relatively less significant blessings as He gives them: finding a lost item, getting a parking space in front that seemed impossible to get, a close call with dropping or breaking something (this happens much more often than I'd like to admit).  But even though I'd like to think I have a thankful heart, I have to acknowledge another attitude that all too often creeps in and contradicts my professions of gratitude: Discontentment.

I’m convinced that discontentment must be a built-in aspect of human nature.  I distinctly remember going to my nephew’s birthday party a few years ago, watching him tear away wrapping paper to expose a new action figure he wanted, and then hearing him exclaim, “Cool!  Now all I need is the yellow one!”  If you ever want to see human nature in its most transparent form, all you have to do is spend some time with kids.  Adults can become pretty good at hiding our flaws from each other – our pride, greed, vanity, selfish ambitions, ill intentions – but young children haven’t learned to do that yet.  My nephew unknowingly revealed a universal truth to me that day.  The more we get, the less we appreciate what we have and the more we want what we don’t have.

Hopefully this makes my point: Go look into your closet right now and count how many pairs of shoes you have, then ask yourself if there are still others you’re interested in getting.  I can tell you that I have three pairs of flip flops – flat, medium wedge, and high wedge.  I have three pairs of athletic shoes – one for working out inside, one for running outside, and one pair of fashion sneakers that I’m getting antsy to change up.  I have multiple pairs of heels and flats of varying styles and colors.  I currently have a pair of rain boots, a pair of snow boots, and a nice pair of mid-calf leather boots, but I’ve been “needing” to get a nice pair of TALL leather boots to wear with dresses and skirts in the winter and a pair of regular ankle boots for wearing with jeans.  You get the idea.

Living in a country and culture with such abundance, it’s easy to get carried away with what we think we need and what we want.  For Ethan and me, going to places like Costco and IKEA are danger zones.  All of a sudden, we start seeing things that we never knew we needed, things that would make our lives so much better.  The latest high-powered blender, a bigger TV, his and hers electronic toothbrushes, a new duvet cover to “freshen up” the bedroom, a KitchenAid stand mixer in candy apple red, all six Star Trek original series movies on Blu-ray.  (Can you tell which are his and which are mine?  Spoiler: Ethan was the one who wanted the new duvet cover.)
In 1 Timothy 6:6-9, Apostle Paul writes, “Now godliness with contentment is great gain.  For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out.  And having food and clothing, with these we shall be content.  But those who desire to be rich fall into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and harmful lusts which drown men in destruction and perdition.”  The masses of people with credit card debt in this country is enough proof that discontentment is a snare.  Practically speaking, when we desire to have things we don’t need and spend money we don’t have or shouldn’t be spending, we can end up drowning – in financial problems, in too much stuff, in further discontentment.  Most importantly, these “foolish and harmful lusts” lead us away from remembering how blessed we already are.
Apostle Paul experienced more affliction in his life than any of us will ever even think about.  And yet, after all of it, he could say, “Not that I speak in regard to need, for I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content: I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound.  Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.  I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:11-13).  The bit I always go back to is, “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.”  I’m encouraged that contentment is something we can learn.  And like many things, the first step is acknowledging that we have a problem.  Once I recognize the propensity I have towards discontentment, I can purpose in my heart to choose contentment when temptations for riding boots and KitchenAid mixers arise.
Personally, I don’t think it’s enough to say that we’re thankful for what we have.  As Christmas approaches and we find ourselves and our children making lists of what we want, we need to take care that we are not giving more significance to what we don’t have instead of focusing on what we do have.  Philippians 4:8 is a great reminder: “Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy—meditate on these things.”  What is true?  We are extraordinarily blessed and have so much more than most of the people in this world.  What is noble?  Thinking more about how we can bless or help others, rather than what we expect or want to receive from them.  Who is praiseworthy?  Jehovah-Jireh, the Lord who provides.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Transformation, not Conformation

By Taisa Efseaff Maffey


It was one year ago, on an ordinary day in the middle of an ordinary week in the middle of the extraordinary month of November, that I emerged from our home office, flounced into the living room, and excitedly informed my husband, Ethan, that I was going to start a blog.  Ethan thought this was a great idea -- just like he thought it was a great idea each time he suggested it to me over the course of the previous two years.  He knew that, as a college graduate with a degree in English, I had always harbored aspirations of writing... something.

When I was a kid, I decided I was going to author children's books, and my mom was going to be my illustrator.  (I couldn't write that without smiling, but it's true.)  As a middle school and high school student, I thought I would instead create a young adult book series.  (Sure!  How hard could it be?)  In college, my ambitions turned to writing a novel.  Any fellow English major can guess what came next after graduation.  REALITY.  I can't count how many times I sat down to write; how many private brainstorming sessions; how many first chapters of "books" I wrote.  I had tons of ideas and no idea what to do with them.  What's more, the prospect of creating a lengthy, significant, cohesive piece of writing -- namely, a book -- was daunting to the point of inducing paralysis.  So, I did what any modern, recent English graduate would do.  I turned to Facebook.

It may sound silly, but Facebook freed me up to write again.  After all, there are no special criteria to consider when writing status updates, no requirements of length or quality; there is no fear of being compared with writers of other Facebook status updates and not measuring up.  And so, I wrote status updates.  Even before Ethan came along, some family members and friends began encouraging me to start a blog.  I appreciated the faith they showed in me, but I didn't want to blog unless I had a reason to, unless I had something worth writing about.  Which brings us back one year ago.

I had been married six months.  I was also working full-time in an exceptionally stressful environment at a busy law firm in town.  Maybe this sounds completely unremarkable.  After all, most middle class couples consist of two people who both work full-time jobs, which can often be stressful.  But for me, the new responsibilities that came with being a wife brought on a pressure of their own, and I couldn't seem to handle the strain of both roles together very well.

I wanted to be a good wife.  I felt impelled to create and maintain organization within our home, our paperwork, our finances.  Life seemed entirely chaotic if the dishes weren't done or the bathroom was a mess.  I needed to ensure that we had clean, wrinkle-free clothes to wear each day; to make sure there was an extra toothpaste in the drawer before we ran out.  I wanted to be a good cook.  Good cooking required menu planning and grocery shopping in advance, aside from the trial and error time added to the actual meal preparation when cooking unfamiliar foods or recipes.  Beyond my self-imposed wifely duties, I wanted to be physically in shape and feel and look good, which would mean devoting virtually the last remnant of my personal time to working out, not to mention summoning supernatural strength to abstain from habitual stress eating, while still managing to get to bed on time every night.  In short, I felt like I went to work every morning and then came home -- tired, anxious, and already discouraged -- to my second job every evening.  Meanwhile, I was a newlywed who of course wanted nothing more than to just spend time with her husband.

A conviction began to grow within me that I was not living the kind of life that God intended for me.  It ate at me that the bulk of my energy and time each day was wasted on people who didn't care about me or appreciate my work, at a job that rendered me weary and frustrated for my more important and preferred job as a wife at home.  I felt like I was giving away my best at the law firm, and Ethan just got what was left over of me at the end of the day.  Moreover, I suspected that other women were in similar situations and could relate to my feelings of frustration and defeat.  And so, I decided I wanted to write about THAT.  Not necessarily about being a wife or mom and balancing a work life, but about focusing on what God has called us to do and being the best that we can be at it, whether it's being a wife, a mom, a single girl, a woman with ambitions, all of it.  What does our own, individual roles as women look like?  Is it right?  Would we like it to be different?  Can it be different?

Romans 12:2 says, "And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God."  From time to time, I've found myself captive to expectations, sometimes internally and sometimes externally imposed, that I have to deliberately examine and evaluate before deciding whether to allow their continued hold on me.  I've come to the conclusion that it can be quite easy to allow our environments and the people in them to dictate what our lives should look like or who we should be.  Perhaps this is especially true for women.  Similarly, there's also a tendency to take it for granted that our status quo always was and always must be.  But Romans 12:2 reminds me not to conform when I'm feeling that gnawing in my gut that something isn't right.  Instead, I need to be transformed by opening my mind to other possibilities that the Lord may be preparing for me.

One year ago, my status quo remained and I continued working in the same stressful environment, all the while feeling hampered from truly being who I wanted to be in my personal life.  But the Lord was indeed preparing another way for me.  Two months ago, I was able to quit my job, and I am now able to focus my time and energy on what I actually feel called to do, not least of which is to write.  Eventually, books.  For now, a blog.