I am not a crafty person.I have talents, sure, but not ones that include fabric, lace, embellishments, scrapbooks, or even glue.
Could I develop the skills needed to make attractive decor? Sure.
Is it the best way to spend my time? Probably not.
Is it healthy to have hobbies?
Absolutely. It is essential to do something for yourself. Save a little of your time each day for yourself. Or else kiss your sanity goodbye, sister...
Anyway, I feel like less of a woman and sadly even less of a mother when I see others with crafty, trendy, beautiful talents that allow them to create really beautiful things...
A part of me envies them and their talents, and a part of me knows that #1 no good will come from being green with envy and wishing I had the skills. #2 I belittle the talents I have been given when I envy. And #3 a part of me asks, "what purpose will I serve? What good will I do? What service can I give with fancy, embellished items?"
I made myself think with a wider perspective; an eternal perspective, and asked myself: What do I want out of this life?
Who do I want to be?
What am I aiming to become?
Who do I want to be remembered as?
What do I want my children and grandchildren to think of me?
And my favorite Jenny Phillips song came to mind:
"I want to be a woman who is kind.
Who envies not, and has pure thoughts inside her mind.
I want to be a woman full of love.
Who speaks gently, and always sees the good in everyone.
The greatest thing I could be is woman of charity.
I could do many things with this time He’s given me...
But nothing matters more than becoming
a woman of charity.
I want to be a woman full of hope.
Who suffers long, and seeketh not her own.
A woman who easily forgives.
Who is not provoked, and always knows who she can lift.
I could do many things,
with this time He’s given me.
But nothing matters more than becoming
a woman of charity.
I want these traits! I want to be this woman! I want to be remembered as being charitable. And kind.
I want to look back on my life and say "Yes. Time well spent."
Like Marjorie Pay Hinckley said,
“I don't want to drive up to the pearly gates in a shiny sports car, wearing beautifully, tailored clothes, my hair expertly coiffed, and with long, perfectly manicured fingernails.
I want to drive up in a station wagon that has mud on the wheels from taking kids to scout camp.
I want to be there with a smudge of peanut butter on my shirt from making sandwiches for a sick neighbors children.
I want to be there with a little dirt under my fingernails from helping to weed someone's garden.
I want to be there with children's sticky kisses on my cheeks and the tears of a friend on my shoulder.
I want the Lord to know I was really here and that I really lived.”
― Marjorie Pay Hinckley
I feel so much better. I feel ok that I don't {yet} have the level of craftiness that I wish I had. I feel good about the skills I do possess. And I feel good about the promise of the future. There is always a need, and I can help.
I needed this.
Journaling is very therapeutic.
