There's a difference between being pushed and being pulled. The actions may take you to the same destination, but the journey feels different.
For the past few months, or maybe longer, I have felt heavy. It's not so much that I felt overweight, but more that I felt like movement was difficult. Decisions that could have been easy produced endless rounds of conversation that ended nowhere. Projects that sounded exciting at the start took weeks to finish. Nothing felt as good as a bowl of ice cream and an episode of Friends on the couch.
I wanted badly to move past that place. I recognized that I should finish what I had started, that you could only own a home without a vacuum cleaner and a lawnmower for so long. As much as I pushed myself to get going, I never got farther than the research stage. It feels like progress to read endless articles about clean eating and follow appliance reviews on lowes.com, but neither moved me past the wishlist stage.
Oddly enough, as I've thought about pushing versus pulling, this heaviness isn't what I intended to talk about. As much as I've tried to push myself to make lifestyle changes, I've also tried to push myself back to the computer... back to the business of design. This pushing has resulted in bouts of success, some sales on Etsy and an invitation design or two, but the passion to bring new ideas to fruition has lacked.
I want very badly to be able to push myself forward in so many areas of life. I believe that I if I just plan and organize well enough, I can achieve whatever goal I set before me. But then I start to feel it again - the pull. It's that feeling of excitement about an opportunity. It's a sense of God's desire for my life that has been out of reach for too long. It's seeing connections where I don't expect to find them. And suddenly I no longer want to push, I only want to be pulled.
Sometimes God's voice is quiet. Sometimes it's been so long since I've heard Him, I'm not sure I'd recognize it. And I get why, in those moments of silence, I want to just push forward. To make a plan is to make progress, whereas waiting feels like a time wasted. However, if the journey is the destination, I don't want to miss out because I pushed myself through. I want to be pulled, pulled by a Father with a plan much greater than my own.
As I've considered these thoughts and struggled to put words to my feelings, I am fairly indebted to this article, "Why You Should Accept a Life Less Predictable," by Shauna Niequist. I am a first-born, planning freak who doesn't have a clear path to follow these days so I resonate with where she's been lately. With this in mind, I think God might be asking me to trust the wind.