This morning, I did not wake as early as I like to, and when I did wake, I was somewhat upset with my husband, and therefore not highly motivated to actually get out of bed. Wonderful and under-appreciated man that he is, K. showered and made a very good breakfast. By the time I finished showering, he was telling me to get downstairs before the food got cold. He’d forgotten to bring out some turkey bacon (when we have bacon, we cook a whole pack on one day, then have it in the refrigerator for the next however many days). I thought he did it on purpose because I’d said yesterday that we’d been eating too much meat lately. No, he just forgot, the plus side of that being, perhaps, that his ridiculous infatuation with bacon may be waning. I never realized until Facebook how intensely people feel about bacon, but that’s a different subject.

Anyway, we had made a plan to go to the Poway Farmers Market. There are farmers markets all around San Diego, but they can be more trouble than they’re worth. The one in La Mesa was small, with vendors selling a lot of packaged junk. The one in Hillcrest is pretty good, but always extremely crowded — plus we don’t live that close to Hillcrest anymore, so I wouldn’t want to drive all the way there unless I had plans to do something else in the area. So we tried out Poway. It was good to get out. I had been sure to try to do extra studying on Friday so that I would feel freer to spend at least half of Saturday with K. Much of the produce was overpriced, but we bought some primo tomatoes at least. The drive was also sort of fun, although I as the time goes by, I am growing more and more annoyed with GM. I drive a Chevy Cobalt, and it has taken a very long time to get my replacement ignition switch. Actually, it’s supposed to finally be installed next Saturday… but I find the whole situation a little unbelievable. My ignition switch has yet to ‘turn off’ while I’m driving, and I pray that it never does that; but more than a few times it has become stuck when I try to turn the car off myself. It will get to the point that the engine is off, of course, but not to the point that allows you to take the key out. Obviously it is faulty, but there is nothing I can do about it besides pray. Only seven more days (then I’ll await the next recall).

I didn’t spend as much time studying as perhaps I should have, but I am not stressing. My mind has been on other things. Largely it has been on my marriage. Sometimes I am unsatisfied with certain things my husband does or doesn’t do, and other times I am wondering what he feels about what I do or don’t do. I think it is in 1 Corinthians that St. Paul talked about marriage a little, saying that married people think of worldly things, how to please their spouses. This is truer than I could’ve known back when I was single (and assumed I would be for life). Strangely, I find marriage to bring about a lot more introspection than I’d have guessed as well. Doubly strangely, I do mean that marriage does this — not just ‘living together.’ I did not expect any difference when K. and I got married, and indeed, there hasn’t been any drastic change at all. But it does affect one’s mindset. No matter how permanent a relationship may seem, no matter how permanent people may assert that it will be, it really does become more so in marriage.

Anyway, the introspection. The guessing. The asking. The always-considering-someone-else-as-much-as-you-consider-yourself-because-really-you-are-one-now. It is just interesting because I didn’t think it would be this way.

Also today, I have thought a little bit about giving. Since registering with a new parish, I received the little welcome packet today. One of the items enclosed was a little pamphlet on giving. I haven’t read it yet, but there was a large heading called, “Giving of your talents,” or something along those lines. In the parish ministries booklet, there was also something called “St. Joseph the Worker,” a group described (rather vaguely, I might add) as connecting people in the parish who have a temporary need, with other people in the parish who could provide for that need. It seemed to allude to skills, but it just left me wondering. I have discussed this with Christian friends before, in terms of calling. Not everyone receives some sort of clear calling to become a priest or a doctor or a lawyer or a missionary or a fashion designer or a gourmet burger master… or anything. We are called to follow Christ, to serve others, to love, but we are not necessarily all told the best way how. Or maybe we are, I don’t know. I know there are many Christians who believe in these very individualistic things, like God having made one specific man who is meant for one specific woman. To me, it is all a Christian version of destiny, and I’m not sure I believe in it. It seems to me there are many contingencies in life, regarding relationships, careers, and everything. I don’t doubt God does some directing, but… it is hard for me to believe that God has a specific occupation for me. I suppose he probably has specific things in mind that he wants me to do in this life. Probably he has put me in the right place at the right time for someone. He is a miracle worker. But I don’t know why — based on what I have observed and also based on Scripture — I should think he has already figured out that I should be a teacher or an accountant or a Naval officer. If there are some Scriptures to suggest that, hopefully they will be pointed out to me by someone. But based on my own silly, human logic, it also seems that if he wanted me to be a teacher, accountant, etc., perhaps he would make that clearer? Perhaps he would indeed provide me with alternative choices… but maybe not quite so infinitely many as I have?

Of course, for all I know, I am walking exactly the career path that God has planned for me, but I just don’t know it; and if I were attempting something else, I don’t know, anthropology, maybe he would be surer to tell me I’m on the wrong road than he seems to be to tell me I’m on the right one. This is all hypothetical, of course, and I hope none of this seems irreverent to God.

A calling. A talent. So many people are so convinced that we all have some calling, and we all have some talent. But me? If I have a specific calling, I have not heard it quite yet — although I thought several years ago I had a calling, and I think it would be worth while to think more about it now. As for a talent, I do have an unsurpassed ability to get wicked pissed about nothing at all. Fortunately, it is like a flare, and usually goes quickly. Anyway, it isn’t a virtue! It’s terrible. A talent! I have no talents. I have some basic skills, but that is all. Maybe a natural proclivity toward learning some things… a larger vocabulary than most people I know… but that is no talent. I am more inclined to believe in luck than in talent, sometimes. But I don’t know. Only some things I have been pondering a little.

I like this letter by Sal Khan though. I am growing to think of intelligence less as something innate, and more the way he encourages us to. Maybe I will grow a talent someday — and then I can offer it to the parish.

3 thoughts on “(stuff)

  1. you’re ri

    You write the way I wish I could all the time but never have time to. Plus you have a lot talent to me. And that makes me happy.

  2. And as for your destiny, I used to wonder about mine too. From the moment I was married and we knew our first was on the way, I have done little wondering and more responding with a sense of wonder…and then I look at my hands and try giving thanks for it all.

    1. You are always so kind. I am glad you said this: “then I look at my hands and try giving thanks for it all.” Something that struck me at Mass yesterday (after a rough week full of me complaining) was how we pray, “It is truly right and just, our duty and our salvation, always and everywhere to give you thanks…”

      I think it is right to respond with a sense of wonder, too. That is what children do, and I remember doing that more than I do now.

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