Sometimes life hits a sweet spot where even breathing just feels good.
On those days, I roll the windows down and listen to music, letting the highway air stir all around me while the notes from my speakers fill the atmosphere. Tonight was one of those moments.
It’s weird because I had just worked a long day, from 9 to 9, and you’d think I’d be tired or stressed, but I wasn’t. I actually enjoyed every moment of my day. Like, the time actually flew by. And I remembered what it was like to pour myself into my art again. To be completely myself and not be insecure. To not feel like an alien in a foreign land, but to feel like a human with belonging and purpose.
It’s funny, because I’m not in a place that a lot of people would call success. I went to journalism school with some of the most brilliant people, and a lot of those brilliant people went on to work at major media, win awards, do “big” things. And I think I used to be a little jealous of them. Because I used to want my name known.
I was so desperate to do something epic because I felt small and dumb and unwanted. I would fantasize about becoming a big name and coming back to my hometown to all of a sudden have people notice me and appreciate me. I realize that sounds super cliché, and writing it out makes its silliness even more apparent. But I thought that way. Because I always felt so out of place where I grew up. Like I was always shrinking and stuffing and containing myself to not stick out. My desires and thoughts were always so much, so deep, that even when I let a bit come out, it felt like people never got it. So I wanted there to be a point where the world got it and I could come back home and prove myself, as if to say, “See, I am destined for greater things! The whole world likes me now, so that proves that I matter and am beautiful.”
That moment didn’t come. And now I don’t really care if it does. My name isn’t known by the world. My name is barely known within the place I work. But I am happy. Today I wrote a story for a church newsletter that definitely won’t grab lots of attention, but I felt really good about it, because I enjoyed it and it is making a difference. I got to highlight a good thing happening in the church. And more importantly, I got to interact with great people. I laughed a lot and engaged a lot and felt actually understood and appreciated and like maybe I’m not so alone in this world. And those moments are the golden gems in life, the ones you store in your treasure chest to pull out when the hard times come.
I am not known by the world. But I am known in the places that matter. I am adored by the one who made me. I am loved by some humans. I am living in the midst of Holy Spirit, which is the only way to truly be alive. And I’d follow him to the barest desert in the heart of anonymity, as long as I can be with him.
