Passion Unleashed

When I was a little kid, I was passionate about eating ice cream. When I was a teenager, I was passionate about playing tennis. When I was in college, I was passionate about partying with my friends. When I got married, I was passionate about being a wife. When I had children, I was passionate about being a mom. When I accepted Christ, I was passionate about my faith. When I was a professor, I was passionate about teaching my students to read and write. When I was a photographer, I was passionate about taking pictures. When I was ... when I was ... when I was ... I was passionate.

I've always been the type of person who throws myself into tasks or hobbies or jobs or sports with gusto ... I have a thing about doing my best and giving my all. I think that part of my personality is due in large part to my dad; he used to always tell me to "give it all I had, do my very best, love what I was doing, and to never ever give up." No matter where I've been in my life, I've somehow managed to hang on to those words from Daddy ... to keep my oomph, to maintain my passion, to never lose my zest for life.

Over the last months, more than one person has told me that I seem to have no passion for anything in life right now. I've gone from being an outgoing, fun-loving, life-enjoying gal to never leaving my house unless I have to. I go to work, and I come home. I slip in and out of church. I don't dream about traveling the world, writing best-selling books or becoming a missionary in a foreign land. I trudge through my job each day; I make myself mow the lawn or clean my house; I slog through walking each evening; I never ever get excited about food ... cooking it or eating it. I guess it's true ... I've really got little to no passion for anything right now. A friend told me last weekend that I needed to find something to live for, a reason to keep going, something to ignite some sort of passion in my heart again.

I've turned her words over in my mind a lot during the last week, and I've had a true plethora of emotions about her calling me out on where I am in my life. And I've thought a lot about needing a reminder ... a visual reminder that I can see every single day that screams to me that life is short and that every single moment should be treated as the gift it truly is. So many days now, I struggle to get from moment to moment, and quite honestly, often treat those moments as burdens rather than blessings. I was passionate about living when God gave me a second chance at life after I was diagnosed with diabetes, but that passion has ebbed away in recent months. And then a text message from my son on Thursday sparked a little glimmer deep within my soul ... a twinge of desire to live in the moment, to take some risks, to appreciate the chances, to be spontaneous like I used to be.

So this afternoon, I unleashed a little passion and I got a new tattoo. Those of you who read my journey through life in this blog may recall a post a while back called Ink Me Up where I talked about getting tattoos with each of my children. I often said that one day I would get another one, but couldn't decide on the design I wanted. And then when I knew what the tattoo would be, I had to wait until my doctors said I could get it safely. So today, I got inked for the last time in my life, and when the tattoo artist was finished and had me look at his work in the mirror ... tears filled my eyes as I looked at my permanent second chance reminder. I'm not going to pretend that I've instantly been healed of the depression that has engulfed me, but I think today was a step ... albeit maybe just a baby step ... in the right direction.

It's time to remove the bandage, wash my new inking and cover it with lotion. And as I do, my prayer is that while my arm is healing, God will heal my heart as well ... that He'll unleash an all-new passion deep within me for living, for loving, for serving Him.

P.S. Comment ... guess what the new tattoo is!