Developing Talents

I have been beating myself up for not being more disciplined with my writing. For the past few weeks, I've met with a friend to develop weekly goals. We both needed the accountability and structure.

Every week, I've put a goal of writing something every day. Of course, the fact that I have issues with scale have meant that if I'm not blogging every day, I'm failing at the goal. I'm reading the Bible in a year in the Bible app. I am behind (more self-flagellation), but the readings this week have been about talents we are given.

There is the classic parable of the men who were given talents. The men had three different reactions when given the talents (a talent, in this context, was a unit of money). One man multiplied the talents aggressively, one man was less aggressive and one buried his talent.

I spend a lot of time thinking that I want to be given a lot. I have this recurring fantasy of opening my front door and seeing a large sack with dollar bills sticking out of it. I'm very sad to report that as of the writing of this post, I've yet to encounter said sack.

More recently, as we've been in a season of unemployment for Brian, we've encountered blessings from God that are much smaller in size. At the same time, they have made a huge impact on our situation. More importantly, they've made a huge impact on our faith. Every time we receive an unexpected windfall or some kind of assistance comes through, it's a reminder that though we don't know where the path is leading us, we do know that God is guiding our steps.

But I digress.

I have this idea that I should (that it is reasonable and, therefore, mandatory) be able to sit down every day and write a blog post. I confess that some days, I let small things like my phone and mindless activities crowd out the more important things. On other days, though, I am unable to carve out the time necessary to sit down and write down several paragraphs at a time.

Up until today, I spent a lot of time criticizing myself. I figured it was some sort of moral failing, a lack of discipline. At church, though, it occurred to me that I have, in fact, been writing every day. It may not always be a blog post, but I have been texting with a friend who struggles in many of the same ways I do. I am realizing that in texting her, I am uncovering God's truth about my own situation.

I feel like I need to work harder to quiet the distractions and dedicate myself to my craft. I mention the parable about the talents because I think it's evolved into a meaning of actual talents (or spiritual gifts). If I am not honing my skills, if I am not building my writing muscles, I am like the servant who buried his talent in the ground.

I firmly believe that God has gifted me tremendous talent when it comes to writing and even public speaking. I don't mean that in an arrogant way. I know that I have blessed people and helped people as a result of either blog posts or lengthy Facebook posts. I have tried hard to be transparent and vulnerable about my struggles with depression and anxiety. Many people have encouraged me to continue sharing because I won't even know who all is being impacted.

In the end, the important thing is that when I do receive compliments or accolades, that I throw that glory right back up to God. I may be the one typing, but he is the one who sometimes speaks through me. (I will readily admit that I am equally as irrational and filled with fear as I am rational and hopeful. I don't want to pretend to be someone I'm not and I don't want people to think it's all sunshine and rainbows. I'm just as likely to think my headache is a malignant brain tumor as I am that the right job is just around the corner for Brian. That's the beauty of being a woman--I can hold multiple feelings and thoughts in my head at the same time.)

I'm also happy to report that we decided to hit the pause button on potty training Brooklyn. For anyone who has ever had to potty train a child, you know that the process can be frustrating and draining. Jeremy took forever to potty train (which we found out later was directly related to his sensory processing issues). Bekah was pretty easy. Doug was older than Jeremy when he potty trained, but our experience with Jeremy taught us that it's no use to fight a toddler's will.

Our ordeal started on Friday. She is not keen on wearing underwear. (As a reminder, she wore the same sneakers religiously, even to the beach over the previous summer. We were worried that her feet would become deformed as we continued to cram them into the sneakers. It was nothing short of a miracle that she finally acquiesced and started wearing a different pair. Now we've even gotten her to wear a pair of sandals!) We have been trying to sell the idea of potty training for a few months. She has shown interest at times. She hides when she has a BM. She is able to undress herself.

It would be easy to conclude, then, that she's ready. Our experience on Friday showed us differently. She asked for a diaper on several occasions. We said no. She peed in about four pairs of underwear, peed on the floor three or four different times and even refused to pee on the potty (but instead stand in the doorway to the bathroom and pee on the floor, right in front of me).

This is one of those times that I want to go head-to-head with a toddler and prove my intelligence. It comes down to the idea posited in War Games, though. The only way to win that game is not to play. Toddlers, by their very nature, are not ruled by logic and thoughtfulness. Brooklyn is currently terrorized by something she calls "spiders." Are they actual spiders? Nope. So far, the most we've been able to ascertain is that they resemble spiders but are actually dust bunnies (or dust elephants, more like).

She insists on using a fork to eat, even if the food shouldn't require a fork. (Jeremy, who is reading over my shoulder as I write, has encouraged me to share that she used a fork to eat a donut this morning at church.) She likes to carry around random assortments of objects, each of which have significance to her.

We decided that given her stubborn nature (not sure where she inherited that), we will take up the task again at a later date. We are blessed with the gift of time, in that she isn't required to be potty trained until September.

I'm hopeful that this is the week I will be posting more blog posts, but I'm also going to be okay if the most I'm able to do is share my experience, hope and strength with someone via text or Messenger.