retail therapy- delayed post

It's a strange day that begins with frosting cookies, seems to skate through irritation after irritation, flirts with retail therapy and settles on the book of John, chapter 3 v. 30.

I don't think it's impossible, or fictional, in fact I know it's real because I've lived it, but it's bizarre nonetheless. Honestly, I feel as though I am experiencing the identity crisis that one would expect in college when trying to choose a major, or even in high school when trying to choose a college. But here I am, 33, a mother and wife, with a mortgage and the like and I'm still not sure I'm doing what I will be doing for the rest of my life.

Am I being obtuse? I have realized this week that I have shortchanged a part of me (the music part) for the part that is easier to explain at the cocktail parties I don't go to anymore (the PR part). I've resigned myself that I couldn't do that other thing full time for a living because it's just not practical, but I can do the thing I'm good at that I don't love because it is.

I'm just being honest. Don't panic or anything. Everything's fine. It's just that I've realized I've been trying to fit a square peg in a rectangular hole. It fits if you shove and stretch a bit but it ain't right. This may be the stuff of diaries and not blogs and so I will wait to publish this one, but ya know. It feels so good to realize this. My shortchanging has not been valid or reasonable or justified. The thing that I love IS the thing I'm good at, and I should be focused on getting better and richer in knowledge and purpose within that. Doing the thing that puts Him at the center, at the focus. That He must become more; I must become less.