Tall Boy won't tell you that he's jealous but he is. I only have a few talents that I can honestly say that he's jealous of and my ability to rip through a book in what seems like minutes is one of them. I devour books. Always have. I remember being a preteen and sucking the life out of Judy Bloom books merely because I wanted to, not because said book was chosen for a report.
Growing up my mom made sure we always had a ton of books available. I remember being very young and being in the I Can Read book club. The Fire Cat, Danny and the Dinosaur, Julius, Morris the Moose, and Sammy the Seal were in constant rotation. With the availability of cassette recorders, we had a pile of books on tape. Classic fairy tales that came to life with voice and song and the beeps to turn the page. There is a family debate that continues to this day over my dad throwing out all our books when my younger sister and I didn't pick up our room adequately enough. I will admit that I wish my collection from those days were available to me now to share with Bam-Bam.
I tend to read a variety of genres but my favorites lean toward true stories. Lately, as in the last year or so, I've found myself drawn to books on spiritual experiences. Karen Kingsbury, the Danielle Steele of spiritual storytelling, has become my newest vice. I recently finished One Tuesday Morning and again I find myself drawn back to my Bible for guidance.
The Bible has been one book that, although so many people refer to it devoutly, I have never been able to just sit down and read. Over the last year or more, I keep returning to it to find out what all the excitement is about. I was raised Catholic but couldn't quote a passage if there was a gun put to my head. As days pass and the feeling of "something's missing" mounts inside of me, I'm hoping that leaning on the words written so very long ago will give me some level of peace, some kind of comfort to quiet the voice within.
I haven't been going to church (little "c" church) since Bam-Bam came along which means I also haven't been an active Church (big "C" Church) member either. In the early days of his existence, I was too tired, to worn out, too fogged up to get out of bed and make it to the early morning Mass with my family. As the days have ticked by and I've regained some energy, some time in my busy life, I've managed to continue to make excuses for my lack of attendance. Tall Boy has never been a goer either. Maybe his lack of enthusiasm has helped me become lax in action. Not that I'm pointing the finger at anyone other than myself but it is certainly easier when there isn't someone in the house holding you accountable for your choices. I've become one of the Cafeteria Catholics that the new Pope speaks of. I've evolved into a member that probably wouldn't be welcome.
I don't know how I feel about that.
I don't really know how I feel about any of it. I don't see myself as anything other than Catholic and I'm not even considering being anything other than Catholic but I'm definitely not fulfilling my destiny, one of greatness, predetermined for me by God himself.
Maybe that's my problem. I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing with my life. I love being home with Bam-Bam, fulfilling his every need. I love being here with Tall Boy comes home. I love being the one making a home for our family. There was a time in my life when I never would have been able to envision me doing this or doing it well. But I am and I'm thankful for that. But, being here doesn't open me up to opportunities of true greatness. Greatness that has an impact on anyone other than us.
I've returned to searching. Searching for the destiny and how to incorporate it with my current reality. I'm searching the Bible and it doesn't seem to be written there either. I've learned from some friends of mine that I'm not alone in feeling my emptiness but like everything else in life, no one can decide for me what is best for me.
I hate that.