The Potter and His Clay

My youngest son, who just turned seven last week, has a true artist's heart. He paints, he draws, he colors and creates, and now he even makes pottery. This is his first creation on his birthday pottery wheel. I captured his intensity in this photo, but wish I could have also captured his excitement. He is doing exactly what he was made to do.

I've been thinking a lot about this lately. How God created us with certain gifts and passions that tell us the path we should go, what we are made to do. It's what puts fire in our belly. It's what makes work not seem like work. It's what makes us passionate about certain things in the world.

And, yet, we lose our way. Every day. 

We say yes to things that aren't our strengths, or our passion, because someone asked us to serve (and they were kind in their request), or we got promoted into a job that no longer fits who we are. We become drained, but we keep plugging away. No intensity. No excitement in our soul.

Gretchen Rubin, who wrote a wonderful book called The Happiness Project, notes that one of the keys to finding more happiness in your life is to be serious about play. She writes, "What did you like to do when you were a child? What you enjoyed as a ten-year-old is probably something you'd enjoy now." I was so moved by this idea that I called my mom immediately after reading it to ask what I enjoyed at 10-years-old.

Writing. Reading. Playing in the woods. Riding my bike. Having friends over all the time. Laughing until I peed my pants.

Granted, laughing until I pee my pants may not be a career option. But this list gives me lots of food for thought. Writing does fuel my passion. Outdoor time is still sacred for me. Good friends fill my bucket up daily. God has been telling me my strengths and passions for a long time, even since childhood. When did I stop listening?

Wherever you are today, whatever your journey at this moment...take heart. You have been molded since childhood to become who you are supposed to be, despite the mess ups and even the unintentional successes. Try to remember what re-charges and re-fuels you. It makes the journey so much more joyful and abundant along the way.

Love and Pizza Dough Beards

I used to think my love language was acts of service. However, in the last few months, I've come to realize just how important relationships and quality time are in my life. People tip my happiness scale upward. And while the crazy pace of my packed schedule often sucks the life right out of me, time spent nurturing relationships rarely does. 

This past weekend, my cup was overflowing with quality time. I had date night with the hubby. We had some great discussion over onion rings and IPA. I then got the opportunity to re-connect with someone I mentored many years ago, who is now a college student making her big dreams happen. Over dinner and catching up, I couldn't believe a decade had already passed in our friendship.

I also got to spend lots of quality time with my boys. We wrestled, fought over toys, played games at a picnic, jumped off diving boards, and ended our evening by sharing the best part of our day over pizza. We even managed to work in making a full beard out of pizza dough. It may not be proper table etiquette, but it's what we do when we're having fun.

Boy with pizza dough beard.

So, friends, here is my wish for us all this week...

May your days be filled with laughter and pizza-dough beards. May you feel loved from the person sitting next to you, or across from you, or in front of you. May your cup be full, even slightly overflowing, and may you always remember to fill the cup of others. May you be kind, loving, and present. May you love boldly and be boldly loved back. May your happiness scale, if it must be pointed somewhere, always be pointed up.

Ugly, Heartfelt, Inspiring Seeds

A few years ago at a work conference, I was given a seed of happiness. It's not actually a seed. It's a crazily formed lump of clay with a smashed nose and crooked smile. It stares at me every time I sit down to write. In a real writing slump, which is often, I roll it between my palms as I ponder. 

The story behind these seeds is a simple one. Kindness. Mark, a sculptor in St. Louis, decided to make something meaningful out of life's leftovers. He took his left-over pieces of clay and formed them into small smiley faces, then painted them like a rainbow. He took his first one to a friend's son, who was dying of cancer, because he didn't know what to say, or what to do, but he wanted to make him smile. A Seed of Happiness was born.

The best thing about these ugly, heartfelt, inspiring seeds is you can't buy just one. You have to buy a whole pack, 10 or more, so you can give them away. While you are always welcome to keep one, and roll it between your hands when lost, true kindness comes in sharing the crooked smile with others. Paying it forward, passing it along.

The truth is we are all homely lumps of clay, made in all shapes and crazy colors, trying to be something beautiful in this world. It's the kindness that ultimately defines us. The passing of our smiles and the act of giving ourselves away.