talking about him, Flash seemed to shrug his narrow donkey shoulders with modesty and lowered his head into the grass to munch away, his foray into romance over with for now. Beau trotted out to offer his opinion about Flash’s escapade, barking his moral indignation from behind our legs, but Flash simply ignored the criticism.
Priscilla and I made our way back to the house for some sweet tea and air-conditioning, relieved to have Flash back in the fold where he belonged. I pulled two glasses from the cupboard, then found a pen and hastily scrawled “find your passion” on an old envelope that was sitting on the counter. I thought I might like to muse about it later, but of course I promptly forgot about it. For quite a while.
But the funny thing about writing something down, even if you forget that you ever wrote it, is that the message stays with you long afterward. The envelope eventually went theway of gathered trash, yet the mental note attached to it followed me around and turned up in odd moments. Middle of the night. Halfway through a shower. Driving to the home improvement store.
“Find your passion.”
Flash had certainly found his passion. There was a sheriff’s report (and a broken gate) to prove it. I’d pictured his midnight rendezvous with the pretty little mare as a humorous anecdote to tell at a party, an icebreaker of a story that was sure to get a laugh. Flash was exceeding our expectations as a conversation piece, and I felt really proud of him for that, even if the circumstances were a bit sketchy.
But that note stuck with me.
Did I have a passion big enough to pursue with the same dogged determination Flash had? It was kind of a daunting thought, especially when so much of my life seemed muddled and unclear. As I could see it, I had several passions, all competing for my attention and not necessarily working together in one beautiful, synergistic purpose as I imagined they should.
Perhaps making a list would help. I brought out my notebook, turned to a fresh page, and paused. Finally, I wrote,
My Passions — Rachel Ridge
(Always write your name at the top.)
1. Faith — my core beliefs
I put this one first because I figured that’s what good Christians are supposed to do. I remembered sitting in Sundayschool and seeing circles drawn on an overhead projector image, with the center circle being Jesus Christ, and the larger circles around it representing other parts of your life, almost like ripples. Totally made sense. Yes, this should be the first thing I list, even though I sort of think it ought to go without saying . But it would feel funny to leave it off. Or would it?
I imagined those circles again and wondered what would happen if I took faith out of the center. What would I put in its place? Suddenly, seeing life without a moral compass and an abiding relationship with God at its core looked like a hopeless abyss. If I thought life was muddled and confused before, now it would be completely impossible.
Truthfully, as of late it felt more like a value than a passion, but when push came to shove, if the definition for passion was something like “strong energy or emotion that compels you,” then faith would qualify. I was still a bit unclear about how it should actually look (i.e., if I were truly passionate, shouldn’t I be in full-time service?). But I kept it at the top and moved on to number two. Maybe this little exercise would lead me to the answer.
2. My family
This one was easy. I found this passion the day we brought our first baby home from the hospital and became a family unit. I lay on the bed next to the most perfect pink bundle I’d ever seen, and I knew instantly that everything was different. As I smoothed the tiny ruffles on the dress her daddy had bought her, I vowed to be the best mother I could possibly be. I wouldlove and cherish her, lead and protect her —and the babies that would come after her —no matter what.
Passion burst into flame and
Priscilla and I made our way back to the house for some sweet tea and air-conditioning, relieved to have Flash back in the fold where he belonged. I pulled two glasses from the cupboard, then found a pen and hastily scrawled “find your passion” on an old envelope that was sitting on the counter. I thought I might like to muse about it later, but of course I promptly forgot about it. For quite a while.
But the funny thing about writing something down, even if you forget that you ever wrote it, is that the message stays with you long afterward. The envelope eventually went theway of gathered trash, yet the mental note attached to it followed me around and turned up in odd moments. Middle of the night. Halfway through a shower. Driving to the home improvement store.
“Find your passion.”
Flash had certainly found his passion. There was a sheriff’s report (and a broken gate) to prove it. I’d pictured his midnight rendezvous with the pretty little mare as a humorous anecdote to tell at a party, an icebreaker of a story that was sure to get a laugh. Flash was exceeding our expectations as a conversation piece, and I felt really proud of him for that, even if the circumstances were a bit sketchy.
But that note stuck with me.
Did I have a passion big enough to pursue with the same dogged determination Flash had? It was kind of a daunting thought, especially when so much of my life seemed muddled and unclear. As I could see it, I had several passions, all competing for my attention and not necessarily working together in one beautiful, synergistic purpose as I imagined they should.
Perhaps making a list would help. I brought out my notebook, turned to a fresh page, and paused. Finally, I wrote,
My Passions — Rachel Ridge
(Always write your name at the top.)
1. Faith — my core beliefs
I put this one first because I figured that’s what good Christians are supposed to do. I remembered sitting in Sundayschool and seeing circles drawn on an overhead projector image, with the center circle being Jesus Christ, and the larger circles around it representing other parts of your life, almost like ripples. Totally made sense. Yes, this should be the first thing I list, even though I sort of think it ought to go without saying . But it would feel funny to leave it off. Or would it?
I imagined those circles again and wondered what would happen if I took faith out of the center. What would I put in its place? Suddenly, seeing life without a moral compass and an abiding relationship with God at its core looked like a hopeless abyss. If I thought life was muddled and confused before, now it would be completely impossible.
Truthfully, as of late it felt more like a value than a passion, but when push came to shove, if the definition for passion was something like “strong energy or emotion that compels you,” then faith would qualify. I was still a bit unclear about how it should actually look (i.e., if I were truly passionate, shouldn’t I be in full-time service?). But I kept it at the top and moved on to number two. Maybe this little exercise would lead me to the answer.
2. My family
This one was easy. I found this passion the day we brought our first baby home from the hospital and became a family unit. I lay on the bed next to the most perfect pink bundle I’d ever seen, and I knew instantly that everything was different. As I smoothed the tiny ruffles on the dress her daddy had bought her, I vowed to be the best mother I could possibly be. I wouldlove and cherish her, lead and protect her —and the babies that would come after her —no matter what.
Passion burst into flame and
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