The road directions mapped out my course on my phone even without wifi, and I jammed out to music as I sped down the roads. I knew half of the route after all. No need to worry.
But first, a quick stop at a store to pick out a snack to take with me to the party. I walked through the sliding doors and bouquets of flowers bobbed at me. No, I didn’t need flowers. Two steps towards the food, and I changed my mind.
With five sunflowers clasped in my hand, I checked out.
Back in the car, I navigated the unknown roads, and I was pleased because so far things were going as planned. Even my educated guesses were correct.
Until one time.
Fifteen minutes later, I realized that I was not pulling into my host’s driveway. Fields of tall grass surrounded me and then forest.
A woman exercise-walked up a hill, and I slowed, rolling down my window and trying not to be a creeper.
“Excuse me? Do you know Burnfield Court?” I called out my window.
She stopped her walking and shook her head. “I don’t. Is that in this county?”
My stomach sunk. I was really lost. Where were the road signs? That had been the beginning of my problem. And why didn’t I just turn on my data so the GPS could guide me…Oh, I remembered, I was trying to save money on my phone bill.
“Okaaaay. What’s the name of this road then?”
“Licorice Drive.”
At least now I knew where I was, even if it meant that I was not where I was meant to be.
Does that ever happen with you? You’ve made a checklist, did everything on it, but things still didn’t come together like you thought they would? Or you’ve done all the right things but life didn’t live up to your plan?
Oh, honey, you aren’t the only one.
I think we all get there sooner or later, whether you followed The Plan or rebelled against whatever expectations others had for you. Eventually, we smash into the road rut, spinning out of control and smearing across the pavement, skidding to a stop to stare up at the sky.
What. just. happened?
It’s another type of lost, a scarier kind because it’s not the simple turn-your-car-around-we’ll-be-back-on-track-in-five-minutes.
Maybe it’s the mid-life crisis or the 20s wake up call. I’ve heard the talk about it, where one day so-and-so wakes up from her hit-the-snooze-half-asleepness to say, “How did I get here? I don’t want this life.”
As much as I don’t like to admit that I’m lost and need directions, stopping and asking for help will get me on the map again.
Unless you’re one of those types…who likes wandering around lost, trying to Eat-Pray-Love your way to finding yourself in an unknown field or forest. But why wonder lost…when you don’t have to? When there’s a map with directions?
I’ve been pondering something for a long while. I don’t really know how to write it, how to pack it nicely into a perfect article of truth. But I want you to think about it, too. Please don’t let me headache over this on my own!
When I forget who God is, I forget who I am.
I get lost.
Am I the only one who’s seen this? In myself? In others? Honestly, the only way I can see God is through my very human eyes and I often project my own flaws onto Him. But that’s not how it’s meant to be.
I am not God. Are you? No?
So who is He? Really.
When I ask myself this, I so often fall back on my Sunday school learning, laundry-listing God’s attributes. Borrrrring.
If you’re wondering who God is, I challenge you to look at your life and draw up moments where you saw God in action. What did you see in Him in these moments? I dare you to read through Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John of the Bible and keep a list of what characteristics Jesus showed in his actions.
What have you forgotten about who God is?
The Search for Identity
For the world. For my friends. For this website. For my life. For anyone who’s ever searched for their identity.
I’m not going to go on and on about how I’ve chosen that my identity is Christ (because I have). That’s new news every day (to me anyway). And it’s my favorite thing to remember on every good day, but especially the very-bad-no-good days.
but This is my blogging story.
If you’re not interested, make sure you enjoy the photos (I’ve chosen the most awkward) taken by my friend, Christina DeClerk. Our life threads tangled (aka we met) in Austria where we both worked in the same space for 8 months or so. She’s now back in the USA. And you should definitely creep her website because she’s great at capturing such candid beauty!!
1. Know Your Motivation For Why You Write
When my college rejected my application to be a blogger for their website, I should have taken it as a sign to never write again. Instead, I had less of a lady-like response, “Fine, I’ll do it better.”
Ironically, I think that little space of blog has more followers now (that I’ve stopped writing there) than it did when I was writing. And like the regular journaler I am, I can’t fathom deleting this space of interweb, so there it still sits. And now you know…
My most popular posts from my old site?
I’ll let you decide why these were the most popular while I keep from cringing. Operation Strawberry Chicken??? What was I thinking?
2. Write for Your Audience (if that includes you, great, but don’t just write for you)
After a long hiatus of no posting, I decided that it was time to write for a community again. I had these grand schemes of becoming a famous blogger and all that jazz. Wouldn’t everyone want to know my thoughts?
I headed my categories with confusing but lyrical titles (that even I forgot what they meant), and I didn’t visit other websites. I wrote what I wanted. Part diary, part faith-spirational, part how-to. This website existed for me and only for me.
Sheesh. Selfish shellfish! I’m ashamed.
And yet, some of you have reached out to me to share how a post has encouraged you or challenged you. Maybe You Can Break Up With God and Heart Puddles and Poppy-Red Hope caused private messages to me, and when I hear from someone, I know that I’ll keep writing even if it’s only for one person to feel less alone.
You’ve spoken. And I’ve heard. You value vulnerability. And so do I.
3. Write Sustainably.
This website has spent a lot of time on my past travels, food loves, cultural observations, and so many other things besides. But I’ve been trying to cover too many topics. Some posts were only there to fill my 2 posts/week quota, and I’m not proud of the writing or the information. If you’re going to read here, I want it to be good.
So new goal.
The goal is to write plainly and share truth, and so if you scroll up to the top of this page, you might notice that I’ve rewritten my categories so you (and I) will be able to navigate this website without a head scratch.
I’m a 20-something, and I want to write for my fellow 20-somethings. Life is a journey that I want to share with you, if you’ll let me.
From now on, I’m writing for the young woman who mind-and-soul-fully lives. She dabbles in style (mostly if it’s thrifty but occasionally splurges on something divine) and she hungers to travel and time-travel, whether by car, train, plane, or book.
If you’re in, I’d love for you to sign up for my e-newsletter. The form asks for a website (because I want to check out your space of interweb), but if you don’t have one, no sweat!
But mostly, I want to hear from you!
If you’re a 20-something (at heart), what does mindful and soulful living look like to you?
How do you create a life that is sustainable to you?
Where do hunger to travel to next?
Flash Fiction: The Measure of Character
The Measure of Character
by Barbara Brutt, IG @cordiallybarbara, T @barbarabrutt
I should have known when he didn’t look up from his phone.
When I first set eyes on him, I didn’t like him because he expected to be liked. His body, like a swimmer, strung long, lean, and fit with ape arms. Grey eyes and dusty hair that could either be brown or blond depending on the light. Sure, someone might think him attractive but not me.
I asked for his cell number, and he gave it to me. “Because it could be useful.”
When Lisa and Chad were moving, I showed up to help, but Lisa grabbed me to dive into the pool with her rather than do the landscaping. He was there, too, helping Chad with the yard while joking that he helped so he could use us later.
Clothes dragging in the water, we girls somersaulted like dolphins.
I surfaced in the shallow end of the pool and came up to watch him…watching him as he hauled a bag of dirt on his strong shoulders. My eyes lingered on his back but wandered to his butt.
I jerked my eyes away while heat rushed through my insides.
Fast forward. The texts we exchanged caused me to clear my inbox, and my phone became my constant companion. We were connected at the hip.
He and I.
Me, my phone, his phone, him.
The ding of my phone thrilled every fiber in me, and its silence chilled my insides to ice. My emotions tied to technology. When had I begun to fall for him?
“I think I like you.” I typed into my text, erased it, and then rewrote it. No, I can’t send that.
But then, I did.
My stomach boiled and my skin flashed hot and cold. Would this be another case of un-reciprocated feelings? What did he gain dating me? Had I just ruined a friendship?
My phone dinged. He wanted to pick me up. He liked me too.
Heart in throat, I scurried into clean shorts and shirt. He arrived and we sat, not speaking, in the car together while driving to a nearby restaurant for drinks or desserts. It didn’t really matter.
We slammed car doors, wandering through the parking lot towards the hazy windows and neon lights. I wished he’d grab my hand, but he held his phone.
“Excuse me.”
A woman flanked by two young girls. Hands out. Eyebrows drawn together. Eyes begging.
My heart squeezed. Did I have anything useful to offer? My smile felt more like a wince, and I looked to him, hoping he’d know what to do, show compassion or kindness, at least a kind word.
I should have known when he didn’t look up from his phone.
[Tweet “A Measure of Character (flash fiction) is cow’s cud because I had to chew over it.”]
What should she have known about him?
What themes are being shared in this story as a caution?