Today I feel a bit out of sorts.
And a little bit stuck and stifled.
Twelve years ago I stumbled into the world of massage therapy and found something I loved. And something I was good at. A career that I really felt the Lord had provided me. It was something that I was good at and excelled in. And the bonus was that I was able to pass off personality quirks because I was a “flaky-hippie massage therapist.” It had become who I was as much as it was what I did.
My vocation allowed me to make a real difference in someone’s life, and that was what my heart desired most. And on the days when it wasn’t always fulfilling, I had plenty of hobbies that were to fill the void.
However I have struggled at times with my massage career. It is no secret that we have moved around a bit. And each time we moved it required me to get my license in a new state, find a new job and build a new clientele. It is challenging to start from the bottom every two years.
Each time we moved I feel as if I’ve lost a little bit of myself. I’ve had to start over from scratch and figured out what it was I loved and why. My hobbies and interests have dwindled down and I’ve been left with next to nothing. But massage was always there to reassure me that I was still me.
And then we moved to NY. And the process started again. However in the wake I’ve been left with little motivation to do anything that I once loved. But that little massage spark still twinkled and so I applied for my license and bent over backwards to fulfill all of their requirements.
And today it came, the letter informing me of their decision. The letter informing me that I do not have enough proof of experience in the form that they needed to receive it.
I’ve been denied.
The last bit of me that I knew was, in one moment, gone.
I knew that a time would come when I would retire my hands and move on. But I thought I would be the one in control of that decision. And now I’m left to wonder: where do I go from here?
What does one do with the shattered pieces of self that no longer seem to fit together in any form?
And yes, I know the easy answer. I have been in Sunday school for nearly 33 years and I am aware that it is the Lord who fits the pieces back together. And I do trust Him fully and know that there is something He has planned that I am unaware of. But that is the thing; I am unaware. What I am aware of is the emptiness of the shell that I inhabit. I am aware of the pieces of myself that have been chipped and chiseled away. I hold the remnants in my hands and watch them dissolve into tears and soak into the earth.
Maybe it is time for a rebirth; a time to create and make new. Maybe those remnants that dissolved soaked into the ground to nourish the seeds that were planted when I wasn’t aware. The question now is, what has been planted?