But actually, I'd be cool with you telling me how to live mine.
I overheard a conversation between a mom and her son yesterday as I was shelving a stack of paperbacks. They were reading a book about animals and their young, and they just came to a part where it was talking about a type of snake that left its newly hatched offspring alone to fend for themselves. "That is so weird," the boy commented. "It's like she doesn't even care."
"Well," the mom said, nodding her head, "some animals can do that. They come out knowing all they need to."
"Like sea turtles! As soon as they hatch, they head straight for the water. No one has to tell them to or anything. They just do. And they know how to feed themselves and find their way to where they need to be."
Wouldn't it be nice if we were sea turtles? If we had this built-in code that told us what we should do? Where we should go? How we should provide for ourselves? What we should be? What we shouldn't be? Life would be so much easier. We wouldn't have to worry about anything but what comes naturally to us. Maybe that's why the sea turtles in Finding Nemo seem so laid-back.
I find in my own life I stress a lot about stuff. Silly things that are no big deal to anyone (except my sleep-deprived brain that thinks it's a good idea to re-cap the entire last five years of my life at 1 o'clock in the morning.) Or the big things in life that will affect me and the people around me for years and decades to come. And sometimes, I covet the certainty of those turtles.
Unfortunately, God didn't design us to be hard-wired into a set, non-negotiable robot mode. Sure, He's got a Plan for us. Yes, He knew exactly what each one of us would do at each moment of our lives here on Earth, long before He formed the earth. And yet, He still lets us do the stupid stuff that we do. Why? Because we aren't here just to go through the motions of life. We aren't here just to live long enough to mate and raise the next generation so they can do the same. We're here because God wants to have a special relationship with each of us. And we can't really do that if it's our only option, now can we? If you and your spouse were the only two people left on the face of the planet, would it really be all that surprising or miraculous when you two got together?
So, I guess that leaves us being creatures with a purpose, just like sea turtles are meant to go to the ocean, but no clear, distinctive set of instincts to follow to get there.
That's kind of depressing, actually.
Except that there's this thing called advice.*
Sometimes we take it for granted that we live in a world full of people. Especially me, being the off-the-charts introvert that I am. There are few things scarier to me than actually exposing myself enough to share my struggles with others enough that they can help me. (Not even spiders can compare, and man, is that saying something.) Showing people your intestines is a bad idea. And I think part of me kind of equates showing my inner-self with that. It's risky, it's messy, it's painful, it's ugly. But depending on who you show and why, it might just save your life.
I think that on a personal level, I need to purposefully seek godly advice from those I trust far more often. It's something that I will have to consciously put forth the effort to be able to do. It won't come naturally. But it will equip me for the road ahead in ways I can't even begin to fathom from where I sit right now.
Maybe I'll come to you.
*Note. There's also this thing called the Bible, which is way better. But that's another post for another time.
Be blessed,
Lauren
