Thursday, February 4, 2010

This passion

I'm sitting here realizing I don't know what my passion is. I'm a senior in college. I'll be graduating in May. I used to have a passion. I used to write with my entire being. Writing consumed my life. I poured everything into it. I studied. I laughed, cried, and bled writing. I'm a print journalism major, but I've come to realize that I don't even like it.

It's come to the point that the things that intrigued me about my talent and my ability to understand what people needed in media just sickens me. To think that I'm going to be leaving ORU soon with loans for a major that I've come to not enjoy is startling.

I'm not someone who picks up one thing, uses it up, and then dumps it when she's finished with it. I drain the life out of it. I allow that passion to drain the life out of me. And maybe that's where I've come. I've drained myself dry. I know that God allows seasons to come into life all the time, but this is crazy. I'm in my last semester.

As I started writing this, one of the girls on my floor came into my room and I told her this unbelievable revelation that I have been experiencing. I explained that I don't like the process of getting everything together for a story. I love talking to people. I love informing. It's just not my passion. As I was explaining to her how I was feeling. She asked me a question.

What makes you angry?

I spoke before I even thought it through. The cause of abused children makes me angry. The fact that parents, family members, friends, and complete strangers take advantage of them emotionally, verbally, physically, and sexually makes my face blotch and my blood boil. It may have something to do with my personal experience with abuse. Thankfully I've been blessed and protected from the worst, but I know the impact that kind of imprisonment can have on an individual, and it's not pretty.

I realized that what I want to do I haven't even heard of. I know graduating with a print journalism major is what I'm supposed to do. God made that SUPER clear. It's just I don't see the roads connecting. I feel like I'm off skipping in some meadow, forgetting life.

Honestly, I want to be involved in missions. I want to get involved with various organizations. I want to do what they do, walk in their shoes, talk to the people they help, sit down and talk to the minds that kept the organization running and than I want to walk away with the information. I want to return and tell the people who support them the things that I discovered. As the girl said, review that organization. I've always heard people say "well, I don't know if I can support that charity/organization/church because I don't know if I can trust them with my time/money/children/whatever."

And to me, that's sad. It's sad, but it's so true. And this is where I've fallen. I thought I was walking from these 3 1/2 years of an extremely wintry time in my life, but I'm still trying to figure out the snowshoes I have on.

It's annoying. Irritating. And it feels really good to get all this bottled up crap off my chest.

1 comment:

  1. Maybe your mission is to spread the word of these missions to the masses. Not just to the people who support them, but the people who aren't even aware of what's going on in the world.