Penmanship and purpose

Look around you. Feel the path under your feet. Know the warm sun that shines on your face and shoulders, it was meant for you. Understand this is where you were headed all along.

Like a homing pigeon, you found yourself right exactly where you know you are meant to be.

Now keep going.

Courting the Extraordinary

Is there something about yourself that feels on purpose, and yet some part that seems so broken? Do they even seem dangerously close, or maybe even fatally connected?

Maybe you’re a terrific mathematician with a propensity for being stubborn. Or a singer who can’t keep two socks together. Or a fantastic publicist who seems to drive away all those who are supposed to be close? To each strength there seems to be an Achilles heel. We see the downside, the deficiency, and recognize what we could be better at. Sometimes it feels like a grounding piece of our humanity. Sometimes it feels disabling. Whatever it is or however you feel about it, it’s no surprise to your purpose nor is it a disqualifier for who you’re meant to be.

I have been saying for a while that younger me would be so so proud of how I’m writing and the bravery it takes to get here and wherever I’m going next. She might not believe some of the things that are in the process.

But man, she would be utterly horrified, even disappointed about my penmanship.

I mean, third and fourth grade me took such incredible care to dot every ‘i’ with a heart. I loved filling journals even then, and my fancy ‘a’s were a sense of pride for me. I would relish in how the words looked. I even have a picture in my head of myself sitting at a desk in grade school. A checkered dress, Headband, fervently sitting at my desk, straining my hand to grip the pencil just right, needing a cushion for the indentation marks that it was leaving, tongue sticking out to the side in concentration. I say that this girl who wanted things neat and beautiful would be horrified were she to read my chicken scratch now. If she could even read it sometimes.

I groan even when I write thank you notes, and realize as I’m writing heartfelt words that they might be difficult for the recipient to even understand. Life is busy and I find myself rushed.

Even more so, when I’m in the groove of writing, I often have trouble keeping up and when I go back, I can barely read it myself. Oftentimes, it’s complete and utter garbage. The penmanship, for sure. Sometimes, even the content is questionable. I tend to talk in circles or go on far too long. I repeat myself (see, I did it right there!) and I’m terrible at proofreading. I publish things with mistakes. And yet. I’m doing something I’m supposed to be doing. And none of those things are disqualifiers. 

At other times, things come together, from wells of experience and observation, and sometimes wells deeper than I even understand. That’s when I know that little girl would be so proud.

‘She is doing what she’s supposed to be doing.’

I like to say the story is always being written, and I’m just taking notes. Life happens fast. Thus, the chicken scratch. I guess I could try learning shorthand. But who’s got time for that, right? Always time is a factor. Which is why I write fast. Which is why I think she might be disappointed.

But also, maybe that is also why she really wouldn’t care.

Because she’s out of time, she handed the baton to me a long bit of time ago. She knows I must run with it now. Time waits for no one. And when you’re running after your destiny sometimes things get a bit messy.

But there’s something else. Sometimes it wasn’t something that even mattered anyway. Whoever you feel is judging you- that little girl that you once were. Or the parent or the nosy nelly noting your shortcomings. Maybe it never really did matter that much, anyway. Maybe it’s not supposed to matter to you hardly at all.

Recently my dad sent us each a parcel of memories that he had collected from us. Inside were some handwritten notes, all neat, thoughtful, and encouraging. It’s who I was even a young girl, and so much of who I am now. Bleeding my heart out on the page. Well, except the neat penmanship part, as we established already.

Then I found a couple of report cards, from first and second grade. I was a “bright” “eager”, “conversational” child. (Still rings true). Then I found the funniest two lines on my second grade report card.

“Courtney has an aptitude for writing. Her content is well developed and thoughtful. Sometimes though, her penmanship is messy.”

Wow. If that didn’t sum up both who I was then and who I am now, I didn’t know what. Good content and writing, sometimes lacking a neater delivery.

It’s then that I realized, that’s probably how it’s supposed to be. It’s who I’ve actually always been. Instead of wasting time wishing it were different, I were different, maybe I better get busy being who I am supposed to be. Imperfect, but with a good enough heart.

Somewhere along the way I learned that I should be better than I am. But here I am, who I’ve always been.
And I’m still called to do something even though I’m not good enough at it. Something I’m not even fully qualified enough for.

This happens to everyone. Humans are forever disqualifying ourselves, forever trying to disqualify each other as well. That’s why people get stuck in endless learning cycles, or keep hopes on the shelf of ‘dreams for another day.’

Don’t. Do. That. Not anymore.

Usually these are things that don’t matter to God. Things like this- our weaknesses or humanity- they mean nothing. To God, at least. In fact, He uses the foolish things to confound the wise and no, He does not disqualify you for your weaknesses. He uses us in spite of them. He uses us, not because we are perfect, or ever could be, but because He wants to. Somehow, inexplicably, He delights to invite us into what He is doing here on earth.

What is your thing? Are you the mathematician, the scientist or the singer? What’s your talent and on the flip side, what’s your Achilles’ heel? Encourage you to not be dissuaded or talked out of anything even by yourself. But instead, to bring all who you are and place it at the feet of the one who made you. You were born for a purpose, and with the way that the world and time are going, best be getting to walking it out, even more.

He will use your voice, no matter how shaky; your pen, no matter how poor your penmanship; your heart, no matter how human. No matter your weakness, it does not disqualify you. It is a miracle, all of it, and it starts with the surrender.

So stop fighting it. Stop waiting to be better or more “perfect”, and start showing up. Use your talents and your time, take those tools in your hand and show up. Just go.

Our creative Creator can demonstrate Himself through you, weaknesses and all. He’s ready, and the world is waiting.