The Hobby Room...
Deep in the recesses of my mind is a room that holds each and everyone one of the hobbies I have tried, grown bored with, and eventually put away. I have carefully placed each of these hobbies in this room because I am never one hundred percent certain that I want to give them up completely. There is always the possibility that I, along with those I know and love, will be in a life or death situation where the one thing that will save us will be something like my ability to decorate 30 cupcakes in 7 minutes flat, complete with roses, trim, and tiny pearl buttons for sheen.
At which point, I, and those I know and love, will be thankful that I never completely discarded my hobby and skills, but rather allowed them to remain dormant till such a time as this.
When both life and death depended on it.
But if and until that time should come, the room has to be maintained and I have noticed lately that it is not only crowded, but it is dusty as well. Making it an eyesore for my imagination, and a place I can not walk past without a deep feeling of dread.
Before you ask, or give up on me completely, YES. I do walk by the rooms of my mind.
As do you.
Well, not the rooms of my mind.
But you walk past the rooms of your own mind.
We all do.
This room has the memories of my childhood.
Here is the room from when we fell in love.
These hold the years I mothered babies.
And this room is locked. I think I have blocked something in that room. My heart twinges a little when I walk past it and I think of this room when I hear certain songs.
See what I mean?
We all do it.
So, anyway. As I was saying...When I walk past the room.
I walk past the room every time I want to take up a new hobby or sometimes when I am feeling especially melancholy about my life and the paths that I have chosen. It is in these moments that I peek into the room and wonder if there is anything in there worth salvaging. Anything I should bring out, dust off, and fire back up?
Inevitably guilt always sets in. I believe it lives in the room because most times when I open the door, there it is. Greeting me like an old enemy pretending to be a friend, and reminding me of the money that has gone into making this room what it is today, the return I'm not getting on the DSLR I purchased, and the jewelry supplies growing dust in the corner.
When I leave the room, I am sad.
Sad that I tried and failed so many times.
Sad that I never did what I said...on so many things.
Sad that I had business cards made for most of it and who knows how many trees had to give up their lives and the lives of their loved ones for my failed attempts at overnight success.
He reminds me that I didn't fail.
And on the occasions that I did fail, I went to Him, and together we fixed it.
And then He takes me back into the room, we kick guilt out the door, and He shows me what He sees.
I started a jewelry business because I wanted to raise money to feed the children of the world.
I later realized that neither my passions nor my abilities lie in jewelry making and there are companies that will take my donations and feed the hungry children for me, without anyone having to wear ugly jewelry in order to make it happen.
I bought a DSLR to become the next big thing in photog, but soon discovered that I would much rather use my camera to bless friends who need a few shots of their loved ones before that special moment passes and before they forget what it feels like to be there.
I learned how to ride horses because I wanted to prove I was strong.
And I did.
I began to learn the Russian language because I felt God tug at my heart over this one.
And I am still learning it.
Because He is still tugging.
I decorated cakes because I like beautiful things. And frosting. And I was surprised to discover that it can be the perfect way to bring beauty to someone's life on a day that words just won't do.
I cross stitched because someone said I couldn't.
I learned to cook because I needed a way into the heart of a loved one.
And I took up quilting to be with my sister.
When we exit the room, I realize that something has changed.
There is something in the room that I never saw before. something important.
That room isn't filled with failed attempts, unsuccessful ventures, and broken pieces.
It is filled with sweet memories of precious people.
Each hobby has touched a life.
Each hobby has made a difference in some way or another.
Not because I am great, but because God is.
And because He is the giver of life, and I have chosen to live it.