I almost didn't go to the Figge's last night. I didn't know who was going to be there other than Darcy, Matt and Spencer. I didn't know what was going to happen. I didn't know what I was going to be asked - because with David Figge, there are always questions. Always. This is not a bad thing, it's just that sometimes they're so difficult, I don't even know what to think. So I don't. Or sometimes I have no views or opinions on anything, so I remain silent. Or sometimes I do, but either a) somebody else says exactly what I want to say or what I'm thinking, or b) the conversation is dominated and I don't feel like I am able to get a word in - or that my word is 'worthy' enough of the conversation.
But I went.
There were more people there than I had hoped there would be, but that was perfectly fine.
Dinner was wonderful (Gretchen truly is a very good cook, just like she said). Then came the first question.
What is your biggest fear?
The first thing that came to mind was feeling the loss of God (then getting hit by a car in a crosswalk, because I'm ridiculous). So we start going around, stating our answers, and who else but Mr. Spencer Young, sitting right next to me, said that he was most afraid of feeling the loss of God. Great. Thanks, Spence. That was alright, though. That wouldn't have been my answer a few months ago. I don't know what I would have said - probably something like, "My biggest fear is being lonely for the rest of my life." You know, something cliché and often said.
Next came a question I should have expected - or at least could have thought about and then expected.
What is your passion? ... And it couldn't have anything to do with faith, God, Christianity, etc.
Honestly, I have never, ever thought about what my passion is. I thought it was going to be difficult to answer the question, but I realized that once I just focused and really thought about it, my answers came to mind very quickly - before David asked Jackie to give her example, even. When it was my turn, I said the first three things that had come to my mind:
Art history.
Writing.
Helping people.
I used to love art. Love art. I loved to look at it, contemplate it, create it. I could always be found drawing something or at the very least doodling on my homework, and I really enjoyed painting. Then one day I just lost interest. Sometimes though I'll spend a whole day just sketching and drawing, listening to music... maybe once every couple of months or so. My junior year in high school I took humanities with Mr. Kern. He was the toughest teacher I had during those four years, but I learned so much. Not just how to write proper MLA papers, or analyze literature, or recognize the differences between baroque and romantic styles of music. He taught me how to be passionate about something. He helped me... and all of his students... learn how to live and love life. So over the course of the year he taught me to not just love art, but appreciate it. You would think that by loving art you would automatically appreciate it, or at least appreciate it before you love it... but that wasn't the case with me. I love researching paintings, photographs, sculptures, and learning what went into those works of art. What was the artist like? How did they develop their style? What was their inspiration for it all? The sad thing is, this truly is a passion of mine - but you wouldn't guess it by talking to me or observing my lifestyle. I don't act upon it. I don't help the passion grow. It's more like a secret passion, I guess. For my enjoyment when I feel that spark and take time to follow it.
I've always enjoyed writing. Writing is, quite possibly, the one thing I pride myself on. This 'blog' writing is really nothing special. Everything I write is just raw thought. I save my writing, my real writing, you could call it, for myself. Sometimes I'll write a story and give it to someone because the main character is based off of them, or I'll share a poem with someone who I know will appreciate, relate to, or understand it. But for the most part I write simply to write. I have my spiritual journal, my stories and poems journal, this, and my everything else journal. I kept a prayer journal for a while, maybe two months starting last October. Soon I realized I didn't need to. Everyone and everything I prayed for - requests, hopes, unsaid requests (that's a chapter in itself for another day) - it was all in my heart and mind. I make those lists in my mind and I go through them daily. I add to them. I edit them (based on answers to prayer and such). Prayer is so huge for me, that I don't need a list on a page to remind me to pray, and for who or what. Could it possibly be a part of intercession?
Wow, what a tangent!
Going to my third passion, helping people. I can't describe what I feel about helping others. When I do something for someone else, I simply feel happy. Sometimes there is just nothing better than knowing you've helped someone, made a difference in their lives, made a positive impact on them. It's wonderful. I often have this longing... this deep, aching in my heart, to just go out and help people. Go out and do what, exactly, I don't know. But to just put myself out there, ready to help - ready to serve. And all for the glory of God. Help people. That's what I want to do for the rest of my life. I want to travel and reach out. I want to stay where I am and reach out. I want to grow by helping others grow. I want to take care of people. I want to feed them. Give them clothes. Provide shelter. I want to do it all. I know I may not be able to, but why not aim high? I can't wait to see where God puts me and what He does through me.
I don't think I had truly thought about any of that until last night. It's funny how much you can learn about yourself in such a short amount of time.
What I enjoyed most about last night, however, was the fact that God spoke to me through both Gretchen and David. I had the most wonderful talk with Gretchen - for a good two hours or so - while the rest of the group was engaged in their own conversation and discussion. I really needed that. It seems nowadays I don't carry conversations with people as much as I used to. I feel kind of distant from... everything. Everyone. I need to reconnect. Anyway, David brought up good points of taking risks while living as Christians - sort of living on the edge, but not in sin - as well as running to God. Both of these things have been on my mind a lot recently, so it was great to hear what he had to say.
I learned a lot last night. I had a lovely time with lovely people. And I got to eat food that wasn't made in the HC. Beautiful.
'But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.'
[1 John 1:7]
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