Journal



#2,247 Enjoying the Muddle + Dancing.

Ben and I are smack in the middle of such a weird season of life. I realized tonight that I can’t clearly tell you what it is I do for a living. I don’t really know what my job title is right now. I design things, but only things that feel nostalgic and like home (wedding invitations for people who love each other, a painting of a house designed with love, a business moving into a building that’s been at home here for a hundred years) and I can’t put my finger on what, exactly, my elevator speech is. Normally this would make me feel out of control and afraid, but instead I just feel a little frustrated and… okay with that. It feels very temporary, this not knowing, and like God is up to something really crazy this time. He’s definitely thrown us a million curveballs in the last couple years and each one begets another. So for now, I’m going to enjoy the muddled up story of my life at present. If a patient asks daddy what I do for a living, I bet he will tell them “she draws pictures and has a website.” We’ll roll with that for a while!

Tonight I begrudgingly told Ben I wanted to go running on the track late tonight after dinner… Then the right playlist saved the day. I danced like I was on stage in 12th grade showchoir while listening to this.

No one was watching but Ben and the hoot owls in the trees around the park. And maybe Mr. Bill in the pink house at the end of the park. And maybe Damon, if he was still awake and looking out his windows. And maybe Mrs. Susan at the corner, too. If she was awake and heard my clapping and singing. There’s a lot of false security and freedom in earbuds turned all the way up, isn’t there?

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