A Blog is Born

 

"Today is the first day of the rest of my life." I saw this inside the window of a little tourist gift shop on Cannery Row in Monterey, California in the early 1970's. I was there with a group of kids, with no object in mind other than to "have fun." We wandered up and down the wharf, poking our faces to the windows, peering into the shops, which were all closed. I don’t remember what else we did. But I saw a placard inside a shop window with that line on it.

And another one that said "I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I’m not sure you realize that what you heard, is not what I meant." Both of these messages struck me, so I spent a few moments consciously memorizing them while everyone else goofed around, oblivious to my epiphany. Somehow or other both of these sayings have stuck with me over all the years since. I’ve forgotten a thousand other things that were of far greater consequence, I’m sure. But those remain in what I call the Foggy Bottoms of my Mind.

Thus I have them to pass along to you today, because they both work. I decided to begin my own Blog today, which seems like a ceremonial and monumental moment in my life. What do you say on the first day of a Blog? I know on all the subsequent days you say all the little nothings that make up the something of your life. But somehow it seems like the very first day should be something special. And "Today is the First Day of the Rest of my Life" fits that. So there it is. BTW, it’s true for you as well. What are you going to do on your first day of the rest of your life?

The "I know you believe you understand......" thing also works, because in all communication there is the potential for confusion. I may say something that means one thing to me, and it will come across another way to you. That is inevitable, so let’s admit that it’s there. I will never be meaning to offend, or hurt anyone, so if something I ever say bothers you, feel free to raise my consciousness of it. But understand, that it isn’t my nature to be intentionally offensive. I may well be, but not on purpose.

I ask my kids, when they come crying that someone has hurt them, "Did they mean to?" And sometimes the answer is yes, and sometimes it is no. The answer makes a difference in the response. If the hurt was intentional, they need to talk it out and come to an understanding. If it was inadvertent, then a little reminder to be more cautious is in order to the offender. It’s a waste of time to be angry or offended at someone who didn’t mean to hurt you, and the wounded one needs to own their own responsibility for their happiness in life, and let it go. Life is too short to go looking for reasons to be hurt and upset. Okay, so much for the little Personal Disclaimer thing. Let’s move on.

I’m going to dedicate this, my first Blog, to an unexpected person. You might think my Lord and Savior, or my parents, or my husband, or my children, or my sisters (I have no brothers), even sister-in-laws, or a dear, dear friend. All of whom I am very thankful for, and acknowledge the great gift of all of their influences in my life. The sum total of all future Blogs will be dedicated to all those beloved ones who have contributed to any good that comes of my existence. But today I am going to dedicate this Blog to Paul Potts. If you don’t know who Paul Potts is, let me introduce you:

Paul Potts is an extraordinary individual, who had the audacity to think he was someone. He is a unlikely looking fellow, on the rather chubby side, with something untoward happening among his teeth. He was living an everyday life, working at a Cellular phone warehouse, but all the while nurturing a desire in his heart to sing, when one day he decided to take a chance. He said he had a dream to sing "Because I think that’s what I was born to do."

There is a TV show in the United Kingdom called Britain’s Got Talent. He showed up at an audition, and was asked by a judge "Why are you here tonight, Paul?" This unassuming man, who looked for all the world like the guy who ought to be cleaning up the stage after the show, rather than standing on it prepared to perform, looked her in the eye and said "I’m here to sing Opera."

And sing he did. He burst into song, and knocked the socks of the judges, the audience off their seats and onto their feet. It was one of those glorious one moments in time when you could feel the Universe swirl and crescendo in a giant wave of love and acknowledgment for this one single man’s effort to fulfill the destiny he was born for. God did not give him stature, physical appeal or opportunity. But He gave him a voice. And Paul found it, and used it.

Paul had done what he could with that, at the age of 29 he began singing in amateur opera productions. He saved up and took voice lessons in Italy. He was selected from his class for the privilege of singing for Pavorotti (who was impressed and complimentary). And then he returned to the UK, and did what you have to do to survive in the world. He worked at a day job. He was a manager in a Cellular phone warehouse. He watched and waited for a way to share the gift God gave him, with a world that hadn’t cared in the slightest about his gift for the first 37 years of his life. Talk about persistence and never giving up.

On the little Youtube video clips there are snippets of interviews with Paul. In them you learn that he was bullied as a youth (what is it in the human spirit that makes it want to be cruel to those who are different, or perceived to be less than you), but his voice was a comfort to him. He said that he always struggled with his self-esteem, but after he won the Semi-Finals of the competition he was filled with confidence in himself "That I’m Somebody, I’m Paul Potts." For the pure joy of it, click on these links, if you haven’t seen them already (grab a tissue, you’ll need it):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rDB9zwlXrB8&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K_5W4t_CBzg&feature=related

If the links don’t work, google Paul Potts youtube, paul potts semi-final, and paul potts bgt final. You’ll find it.

As I wept, and was lifted by the beauty of Paul Potts’ voice, and poignancy of his story, I also felt the power of the allegory of his life applying to each of us on this planet. We are all Somebody. I am Velinda. Who are you? We are all Born to Do Something. What are you Born to Do? I was born to write, and I’ve known it all my life. But I was paralyzed by the thought "Who am I to add to all that has ever been written on the history of this planet? When I read Mark Twain, Charles Dickens, J.R. Tolkien, Jane Austin, Harper Lee, and so many more, I am overwhelmed with the question "Who am I to those?" Let’s be honest– Nothing.

And what do I write best? Narrative essay. Not even a story, except the story of my life. And what is my life? Nothing. At least nothing in terms of the grand total of the sea of humanity. But something to me. And perhaps something to you, if we can share the journey together. I burn a little brighter for having known so many good people. If I can share a little of their light, and perhaps add a little of my own, it may be that I could be a help to adding light to the path of your journey through a world in which we look through a glass darkly. If so, I will be content that I have served some purpose. At least one of the purposes for which God sent me here.

I think of Paul Potts, who did what he could to prepare for and pursue the dream of singing. We should all take that example, and despite all odds, do what we can to fulfill that inner sense of mission inside of us. We each have gifts, mostly which begin as interests. What are you doing to develop yours? The journey will be different for each of us, but when we do what we can, and persevere, Paul’s story is an inspiration to us, that one day we will find a way to fulfill the purpose God placed us on the planet. A great part of my purpose has been very simply to be the best soulmate to my husband, and the best mother to my children, that I could possibly be. I have been in that season for over thirty years. But now I feel the tuggings of a new season blossoming, and this Blog is a part of that.

I thank Paul Potts, for having the courage to dream in a world of beautiful singers, that his voice was yet missing from the choir. I dedicate this first humble effort to him in acknowledgment of his reminder to me that I, too, am Somebody. I’ve been given a gift I was born to do, as was he. And as are you. I hope that you will look at your life, and work towards that something inside you that has always been there, urging you to fulfill.

At the start of this, I don’t really know where this will go. I’ve had in some ways an extraordinary journey for someone who hasn’t really done anything monumental. I have nine children, which sets me apart from today’s average. We have three kids left at home (sort of). I am unabashedly Christian. I’m more than half a century old, and have been married to the same man for three decades. I like to read, I’m a home educator and I’m passionate about the journey for personal self-education.

My husband just left his six figure a year job to create a nebulous something that we haven’t fully defined. Something about learning and healing, wholeness and stewards of the Earth. But we don’t have funding, so how can we do any of that? We fully and (no brag, just fact) beautifully remodeled our home to sell. We hope the sale will get us entirely out of debt so that we can be homeless, jobless, penniless, but debt free. This is a big gamble in today’s market, and sends my stress levels into the stratosphere.

In the meantime we are living in a twenty-four foot trailer, my husband bartering our spot, with electrical and water hook-ups, with some friends who are owner-building their house, for his services to help them out. We hope we all survive this, including the friendship.

There is choice in all of this. My husband is choosing to leave a lucrative job. We will start up a business that will support us, relating to what he does for a living. We don't HAVE to be in a twenty-four foot trailer. We're choosing this path because we can't find a rental, and I absolutely refuse to take on a second house payment until we get out from under the first one. I am mindful that I am "play suffering," as opposed to those who truly don't have other options. Call it "slumming" or call us nuts. Both work.

All of these things give me experience. And create a me that is uniquely me, as your experiences create a you that is uniquely you. I have gleaned some jewels that Heavenly Father leaves along the trail of adversity. I pick them up and put them in my pocket like Hannah Hurnard’s Much Afraid in Hind’s Feet on High Places, to memorialize the moment’s of my life epiphanies. I’ll share what I can of those, but acknowledge that you are your own journey, with your own discoveries to make. What means a great deal to me, may well be nothing to you. Yet. You never know when you will pull something out of your consciousness tomorrow that you read in passing today.

I can talk to you about remodeling a home, surviving in a trailer, mothering children, home education, a Christian life, personal education, staying married, preparing for the possible end of times (if we’re lucky), and being a steward of our planet. There will be a bit of taxes, traffic tickets, car repairs and so many other nothings that make up all of our existence. I’m just beginning to learn how to be a parent of adult children, and a grandparent. If you care to listen in to my ramblings, I’d love to have you along for the bumpy ride.

So there now, with much less bother than birthing a baby, a Blog is Born. But with every bit as much fear and trepidation at my ability to sustain and nurture. You’ve been a witness, which is rather personal. Reminds me of the crowd hovering around me at the birth of my last baby, born in the hall of the hospital....... but that’s another story.

Joy in the Journey,

velinda

P.S. I’m always long-winded, but in the future, I’ll make these shorter, but we had to start someplace, okay?