It’s Not Pointless, It’s Passion

And there is a reason we have passion!

Today after work I was in kind of a blah mood. I have been wanting to find an escape of sorts. Somewhere by the water, a stream in the mountains…or maybe a place by the ocean. Somewhere where I can just kind of absorb into my surroundings…somewhere where my presence just doesn’t matter. Then I came to the conclusion that, no matter where I went, there I was…there is no escaping it.

While I was out today, some Jehovah’s Witnesses came to my door.  I watched them on the security video that is set up by my front door. The lady was admiring the purple plant I have by the door in the flower bed. She remarked about how pretty it was. The man beside her asked, “is purple your favorite color?” To which she replied that she didn’t really like the color, she hardly ever wore it, but when she does, she wears it with black. This woman saw beauty in a plant that would normally not be an appealing color to her. I found that very interesting. Turns out that most of us find beauty through things that are not really appealing to us. I thought it significant that the woman was able to acknowledge her appreciation for the purple plant. Funny thing, as they were walking away from the door, I heard the man ask the woman, “what made you want to come here?” And the woman replied, “Jehovah told me to”. And so goes the song written by George Strait, “I Saw God Today”. While that woman probably has no idea that this Higher Power truly did use a willing vessel to minister to someone she may never meet, I pray she is blessed by her very successful “attempt”.

I have noticed over the past few decades that money really does not make people happy, nor do all the “things” money can buy. I mean, we can only have so much stuff. It never really fills the void, it just covers it up for a moment. Before long the material possession looses its spark, and there where the flashing was shot, there is now a bigger hole. In turn, we must find something bigger and better, only to be disillusioned once again. This got me to thinking about a persons life purpose. Why, indeed, are we really here? I am sure that it is not for us to keep filling our own houses, closets, pockets. After all, where does that really get us? For me, it just keeps creating bigger and bigger voids.

I have also noticed that individuals possess infatuations with things. I work with a lady who can make some of the best food you ever put in your mouth. She is an unknown Mexican cuisine genius! She builds accessories in a warehouse for a “living”. Her income helps to feed her passion…and her passion sure has fed me a great meal, actually, more than I can count! I know another who can make any kind of structure with their hands, beautiful furniture, even buildings. This guy fixes trucks for a “living”. His income helps to feed his passion. He has built me a sturdy storage bench and crafted my first child’s personalized toy box. Yet another I knows passion is in writing. Her occupation, for many years was that of serving others who could not really help themselves. She poured her life out into those people and onto pages and music. It was her “happy place”, and she soothed many other souls with her skill.

Well, I find my “happy place” in stitches. My grandmother sat me down long ago and taught me the craft, and my “job” feeds my passion. And my passion helps keep people warm. A place that really touches my heart is a program called Youth Villages. It is a place that takes in troubled children. They help lost and forgotten of our country, the abused and broken, and teaches them how to love, how to respect themselves and others. I personally know a young adult that was in one of these facilities in his teenage years. He told me that while he was there, other kids kept trying to steel his afghan someone had made for him. I asked him what was so significant about an afghan, and he told me that it was cold there. And he meant more than just frigged temperatures. He meant a cold glassy atmosphere, as well. He told me that the hand made afghan signified that someone actually truly cared about him. A lot of children there, he told me, do not have that type of nurturing. It was after his story to me that I realized my why. I have included the link if you would like to learn more about this program, and perhaps you have a passion that could help feed these kids souls, as well.

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