Get To Digging

The bright lights from the billboards were shining down on me so heavily, so beautifully. I felt like an actress basking in the glory of a standing ovation from my closing act in a broadway play. The rugged sidewalk was my stage and my warping reflection from passing by each store's window was like changing sets and scenes of my performance. The bustling crowds seemed to gaze at me in awe as I seamlessly twirled and flowed through my audience. I thought to myself finally… I feel free. I feel destined. I feel al-

Before I could utter the words I so desperately have been wanting to say, I was snatched off stage and thrown into a queen size bed. My flashy wardrobe was gone. There was no wind caressing my hair. The only hustle and bustle I could hear was from the engines of morning commuters trying to beat the sun up. It was… it was just a dream. A wave of disappointment seemed to cover me like a blanket in that cold room. I wasn’t so much disappointed that it wasn’t real. I was disappointed that it was real. A dream I used to fantasize about growing up as a young girl. Living in the Big City. Young, sexy, ecstatic about every second of my life. Fulfilling my dreams of working in media - journalism, producing, writing, screenplay, filming, PR, advertising - one of these or even all. I mean after all I earned my undergrad degree in journalism with a concentration in public relations and minor in marketing. Writing was my LIFE as a girl growing up. So when did I trade my passion of story telling for a masters degree in business and a 6-figure salary? I don’t even like thinking of it that way because I’m so grateful for what God has blessed me with, but I can’t help it sometimes. 

Sometimes I feel like the third servant in the story in Matthew of The Parable of Talents. In short, the master was “leaving his house to travel, and, before leaving, entrusted his property to his servants. According to the abilities of each man, one servant received five talents, the second had received two, and the third received only one.” The first two servants doubled their return on the master’s investment. We know very well and oftentimes quote the master’s response of approval “well done good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much.” But the third servant did not receive the same praise. Instead of multiplying on his talent, he buried his talent in fear, and upon the master’s return was scolded for his irresponsibility “You wicked and slothful servant!” the master said. (Very different vibe, I can imagine the servant thinking). The master told the servant he at least expected to have earned interest from the bank. AT LEAST. In response, the master said to the servant “For to everyone who has will more be given, and he will have an abundance. But from the one who has not, even what he has will be taken away.” I can’t help but wonder, have I multiplied my talents God has given me or have I buried them in fear? I can go down a rabbit hole of how my childhood invoked certain fears within me that caused me to take a drastic turn away from my love of writing and pursue a career in sales… you’ll just have to listen to my TedTalk one day to hear that story. But if I have buried my talent, something in me these last few years has been gnawing at me to get to digging.

Another week went by. Another automatic payment from Klarna for my SHEIN haul. The beauty of being able to afford what you want when you want was indeed a blessing. I mean I love my decorated closet, my bohemian style furnished apartment, my paid off truck. I even like my job. I don’t hate it. I just don’t feel a spark when I think about sales. When I think of 40-year old me, sometimes I get a shooting pain of anxiety when thinking about still being at the same job. And 27-year old me must have felt it too because it all came to one point in time…when I crossed over from maybe “one day” to “day one”. 

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Church service was empowering as always. I dropped off my friend at her apartment, grabbed a fish dinner and headed home for the evening. After eating I fell asleep on the couch. No dreams this time. But I did wake up…different. Almost as if I was standing outside my body watching me experience the mental chaos and excitement of getting a revelation of a major turning point in my life. I didn’t understand the feeling, all I could do was jump up, grab my laptop, and open up a page in google docs for the first time in years. Originally I felt like the episode of Spongebob where he went through a chaotic writing scene trying to finish an essay by midnight, only to end up with a three letter word decorated in calligraphy “THE.” 

“I need some inspiration. Some motivation. Some accountability.” At that moment I googled “writing contests”. I clinked on the first page and was instantly hit with an array of writing prompts to choose from. Three boxes from the top I selected the prompt that resonated with me the most, almost as if God himself crafted the prompt I needed to see. With both excitement for writing again and fear of not being good enough, I began pouring my heart out. I wrote about a young woman who had a dream about living a full life as a writer before she was awoken to her reality. A reality she had built through hard work and that she was grateful for, but that she couldn’t help but fear was holding her back from turning her true dream into a new reality. 

I stayed up all night, stopping only to use the bathroom and pour a glass of wine to ease my nerves. I didn’t reach for perfection, just possibilities. I paid the $5 contest entry fee and submitted my work with no expectation or desire to win the prize. I was just being obedient to the voice that woke me up earlier that evening and said let today be “day one”. 

That night I walked under the beaming lights of the city billboards. The curtains of possibilities opened and my audience stood before me once again. My performance was about to start. The pavement began to slowly turn into a stage with every step and this time my reflection in the big store windows was still, perfect, real. I thought to myself finally… I feel free. I feel destined. I feel alive. 

Source:https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%2025%3A14-30&version=ESV The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers.