Last night I redid my “writing desk”.  I painted and waxed and “aged” the wood and added fabric and ribbon and a new knob.  I organized and got rid of unnecessary paper and clutter.  Here is the result –

But try as I might, I can’t write there.  I tried this morning.  I lasted for two minutes.  I write.  I’m supposed to sit at a desk and do my thing. But my perch of choice for the last couple of years is in my easy chair, sitting cross-legged, a candle burning, my music playing and a fire going.  As hard as I worked on the desk and as happy as I am with how it turned out, it will probably always only be for storage and “for cuteness’ sake”.  But oh how I wanted to be like a “real” writer and sit at a desk and create.

I think sometimes we try and fit into someone else’s box.  Try to do things the way that they “should” be done.  The “norm”.

But how on earth can such diverse individuals do things all the same way?  It’s absurd.  They say that comparison is the stealer of all joy.  So true.  If we are desperately trying to keep up with or be like someone else, we will miss the beauty of the personality we were gifted with.  We’ll not taste the incredible freedom that comes with operating as you were created – unique and glorious.  Our vision will be so obscured by looking to see what someone else has, what someone else is doing, that we won’t be able to see what we have in our own hands.

I have wrestled with this concept all my life.  Feeling different.  Odd, even. (Odd even – that’s funny!)  Knowing that how other people do things doesn’t always work for me.  I think differently.  I used to fight it.  I would desperately try to fit into the mold that I thought existed for all of us and would always end up frustrated and sad and feeling less than.  Other people seemed to go about life automatically knowing what to do and how to do it while I stood feeling like a child on the sidelines, watching, but knowing I didn’t have it in me to function the same way.

Case in point – quiet times.  I always thought that my time with God had to look a certain way.  A particular time of day for a specified amount of time with A, B and C to be included in my intimate time with Jesus.  And I would try and do it that way and be successful for about five minutes.  Or five days.  Or maybe even five weeks.  But eventually, it would feel too regimented and like a task to be done.  And I was pretty sure that neither Jesus nor I had that in mind for our relationship.  That works for many, but it didn’t work for me.  My mind was too random, flipping from one thing to the next.

It’s only been in the last few years that I have learned to embrace the way that God created me.  Jesus used a friend’s comment that I was “child-like” to encourage me, to help me know that He celebrated me just the way I was with my goofy quirks and tendencies because He had specifically designed me that way.  He knew from the beginning what He created me to do and He made me the way He made me to accomplish that.

He created my randomness and He could meet me in that randomness.  He is just as capable of joining me there as He is in meeting with someone who enjoys structure.  Suddenly, instead of fighting to fit into the “expected” format of my time with God, I experienced the freedom of coming to Him as just me.  My times with Him became so much deeper and sweeter and rich.  I began to long for those times alone with Him like my very life depended on it.  And I’ve never recovered.

Do I still get frustrated with myself?  Of course!  Do I still fight the urge to compare myself to others who have it all together?  Unfortunately, yes.  But at the end of the day, I can come back to the truth that I am God’s creation, uniquely crafted for what He’s specifically planned for me.  And I can live with that.

And my cute desk will be just that…cute…

Ephesians 2:10 – For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Psalm 139:14 – I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.