A Collision

Wow, lady, you may say... A Collision?  That's a provocative title.  And I suppose, in the linguistic sense of the word, that you would be correct.  For I am drawing out my voice, or rather, supporting my voice in the form of this blog.  I suppose I should have a caveat for you all, since I am such a new (again) blogger.  Sometimes I'm flat wrong about the things I write about.  You see, if there is one word that I think defines me pretty accurately, it is Questioner.  If I don't understand the reasoning behind why I need to do something, then it's a pretty good bet that I'm not going to do it.  A perfect description of this would be in the area of medicines.  If my doctor tells me that I need to take medication A or do exercise B, she'd better also explain, with a fair amount of details and proofs to back it up, why medication A or exercise B is necessary.  It's unfortunate sometimes, but that's the way it is. It makes life interesting in a Jeopardy type of way because I've stored up a lot of rather meaningless (in the grand scheme of life) answers in my tiny little brain.  But that brings me to my thought of the moment.

You see, I'm a Knitter.  My knitting life is rather a microcosm of the broader theme of my life experiences.  As a Knitter, I can refine things down even more.  I'm a Process Knitter.  For those of you in the crafts world, I'm sure you totally get the whole process thing, but I'll try to explain it.  For me, the work I do on a project is more satisfying and enjoyable than reaching the end result.  In the beginning of my knitting career, I suspect this may have been a coping mechanism, because believe me, many times the end product was not something that gave me a whole lot of joy.  Along the bumpy road of learning to knit, I messed some aspect of the project up, and the result was, well, awkward.  But as I grew in my skills and understanding, my end results were lovely and useful, and a joy to give as well as keep.  Still, the process is more satisfying to me.

Perhaps it's because of the tools I use, or the materials I select.  They are beautiful in and of themselves.  Perhaps it's because of the good wishes and love I bestow on each article as I create it.  I suspect, though, that it's more likely because I'm also an Optimist.  Before me, the road stretches lovely and serene, with any number of exciting possibilities, and each one pricks my interest.  I never seem to fret too much about a difficult technique or foggy directions.  I know that persistence will tackle those hurdles, and all will come out all right in the end.  And even if it doesn't?  Well, that doesn't seem to faze me much either.  I just frog a project back, begin again, and count myself blessed to be able to spend even more time on a project.

Kool-Aid dyed yarn.  Ooh, the possibilities!!!

Future socks?

Well, but how does this relate to a collision, you may ask?  It's because I see this facet of my personality in two other larger aspects of my life.

Firstly, this questioning, process-driven brain of mine lives this out in my homeschooling.  The entire state of education seems to me to be  more process-driven than product driven.  Of course I want my children to be successful in their lives and be educated, but that is not the end-all for me.  For me, it's all about the Journey.  For it is in the journey that the relationship grows and is strengthened.  In the journey, we discover who we are and how we relate to others.  Along this 15+ year journey that I've been on with my kids, I have learned a number of things, not all of them related to traditional schooling.  For example, I have learned that I love history, and so does my oldest child.  I've learned that the best way to get a point across to my children is to live it out in my life first.  I've learned that dissection isn't horrible, and that it can even be fascinating, and I've learned that the hardest-learned lessons are the ones most strongly embraced.  And perhaps most importantly, I've learned that my children aren't mini-me's.  They are each uniquely-created people with distinct personalities and motivations, and have different needs that I need to respect.

And lastly, where I see this collision ultimately, is in my faith.  So many times I do wish I had everything figured out.  I wish I could live my life as seemingly piously as (fill in the blank).  I feel lost at times, as if wandering around in the desert.  And perhaps I am.  But I am reminded that it's in those desert moments that I best learn about God and my relationship with Him.  I was reminded of this fact by my pastor during this past weekend's message.  Speaking on the 40-year wandering of the Israelites, he reflected that these wanderings can come from two different sources:  by God's design, when He wants to impart some lesson or experience, or save us from some experience, or by our own choice, where we refuse to listen to His wishes for our lives.  This is where the process side of my life can come into conflict with the product side.  You see, I realize that God sometimes wants to pull us aside from the track that we are currently on, rest us awhile, and then have us head off in a new and exciting direction.  That's OK.  But sometimes, I realize, that it's me who's taking the roundabout way, killing time, grumbling, and generally being a little stinker.

So, ultimately what's a gal to do?  For me personally, in order to guard against the grumbling and lack of Godly action or discernible direction, I need to stay close to the source of strength.  To do this, I need to continue to regularly pray, read my bible, and participate in a community of faith.  I need to surround myself with people who will be honest with me, and I need to always remember that the process (of growing in faith) is a continual one, but as such, it requires action as well as contemplation. I give thanks to God that He daily encourages me, challenges me, and casts a vision of the future for me.  Now, off to enjoy the journey!