Monday, February 11, 2008

It all started with crab legs

Welcome to the maiden voyage of my journey into blog land. Here's how it all started . . .

Several years ago my husband's job led us to move from the big city to a rural area. I grew up in the concrete jungle with traffic and toll roads and anonimity in crowds. When we moved to the country, an hour from anything that resembled a shopping mall and was, as we often quote Everett in the movie O Brother Where Art Thou, "two weeks from everywhere," I spent a lot of time trying to find where I fit in. Years. Literally years. I had five employers in the first five years here. In my non-working hours, I was a regional reporter for a state newspaper. I did some freelance work for the big city job I'd given up when I moved here. I did several different things at church trying to find my place. I worked with the children. I worked with teenagers and handbells - at the same time; I wouldn't recommend it. Nothing seemed to fit. I just couldn't seem to find my place.

Then, my in-laws came for a visit. We went to a favorite seafood resturant with them (which is, of course, about an hour away). I ordered crab legs. I love crab legs but don't often order them because, well, I just can't get past the price. But, this time, they were paying and I took advantage of that. I remember sitting at that round table out on the porch overlooking the river. The four of us were chatting away about all sorts of nothing important. Then the waiter brought the food. Mmmmm, crab legs. I dove in. Eating crab legs takes work and time with all that cracking and picking, you know. It was a good 45 minutes or more later when the plate was empty that I realized I'd been in a crab leg coma. I suddenly became aware that I had not heard a single word of the conversation that continued around the table after the food arrived. I had gotten so lost in my love for crab legs that for a period of time, everything else went dim.

And that's when it hit me. I'd been going about it all wrong. Instead of trying to FIND myself and my place, I should be LOSING myself in something I love. Losing myself to find myself. I finally get it.

It wasn't long after that I began a women's Bible study at my house. And soon, I was lost it in. What a glorious thing. For the last 6 years or so, this Bible study is where I have continually lost myself many times over. And where I've found my place.

But there are times when I don't want to lose myself. I get a little too comfortable with control. And then I lose my way, again. So, I have to keep finding ways to lose myself. Hmmm.

Which is why I've entered blog world. I needed a fresh, new element to get lost in. I'm hoping and praying this writing adventure will enhance my study of scripture, my losing and finding, my life, and maybe even yours too.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. Matthew 16:24-25


Anonymous said...

Wow, Nancy, how I've missed our Bible Study time together! This is refreshing! I do agree that we have to lose ourselves to be able to live and love - the question for me is all about trust...trusting others...trusting the church...trusting me. I'm working through it all but it sure is taking time! Wait on the Lord! :) Jan

Lynne said...

Okay, roomie! You've outdone yourself and challenged me! I laughed when I read about you missing 45 minutes of conversation because you were so into the crab legs. But you're right -- losing yourself is scary because you have to relinguish control. I am not good with that at all. And the older Kirb gets, the more I realize how little control I truly have. I desire to trust God more. I love you!! Lynne