I always felt I knew who I was and, as a trait of the person that I am, I was a copyist. Someone who mimics the actions and behaviors of others, as well as their surroundings, and makes them their own. It was a role I took for several reasons, and one of the reasons included the fact that I was always in places and situations that never felt like mine or as if I belonged there. I always felt thrust into scenarios, and my survival mode was instantly heightened. And to survive, I had to adapt, and adapting meant I had to assume a new part of myself and wield it.
Take my job, for example. My jobs were the biggest example of me walking on a road that never felt like mine. Yet I still had to know where I was going and how to get there. I always felt like when it came to jobs, I was just playing a part-as I used to always say, I was consciously unconscious when I was in the working world-a habit I picked up to block myself and my mind from anything other than the fact that I was working and everything relating to work had nothing to do with me once I stopped working. I robotically trained myself to just do what needed to be done and get out. Don't get it twisted, I always excelled, and I was always commended-eventually, that is, after a series of trials, because they say a jack of all trades is master of none, yet still masters more than the average man.
I never stuck to one thing, but each starting line, no matter how unique. I had to go through the same routine of fighting to maintain my position, hoping people would realize I don't have a bad attitude but just a short attention span, hoping people would realize social anxiety cripples me but I'm willing to communicate, hoping people would be gentle with me because I switched careers but still have some of the best soft skills ever. I'm hoping people see that I'm not a yes man, but I will say yes to avoid being the rudest person my inner self is telling me to be. Hopefully, people will realize that it takes little to keep me, but even less for me to walk away from any job. I started looking at placements as a test, tests that I could pass, and somewhere deep in my mind I believed that one day all the knowledge I had would be used for something great.
I worked in kindred industries, and while the jobs were sometimes menial, there was always something new in them, some challenges that I was always confronted by, and the fighter in me, for whatever reason, was willing to go into combat and shape myself into whatever character I needed to become to win such a challenge. I would attack if someone dared me. I don't know what it is about me that propels me to flourish when someone says I cannot. Nonetheless, the point is that half of the time as I aimlessly wander through jobs, I'm not passionate about the job as a whole .I don't know if it's the principle of submissiveness or that I want to do everything to the best of my abilities, but I know for a fact that I have sat through professions where I could not tell you if they had any value to me. It was like I molded myself to those moments without truly losing sight of my goal. That's it!! No matter where I was or what I did, I almost mindlessly wandered toward my goal—my dream instilled in the back of my head. I was not attached to the things I did that weren't aligned with my goals or purpose, and whereas there wasn't anything wrong with that, there were days I asked myself if I could mold myself to a post I didn't care for.
Why couldn't I let God mold me into a life I didn't understand but still wanted to live?
I couldn't understand why, while achieving my goal, I was almost rigid about the steps I needed to take and the things I needed to see. Why was everything slow and why did I have to go to Point B instead of Point A? Why did I have to bleed so much? I knew I was rebellious in my thoughts and my actions because I was being pulled like clay and shaped into something I needed that I could not comprehend yet. I compare my life circumstances to the jobs I take because, if you know me, they are often the least fulfilling in my life. I believe I spend too much time honing my skills on others rather than on myself, and I am exhausted and on the verge of burnout after almost 8 years of working.
Still, this is not a post diving into just how much work trauma I have had. This is me saying I could survive work, which to me, although a means to an end, was never in places I truly wanted. Then on the flip side what I hoped to get through God I hesitated when he started showing me how to attain it. When I saw a few walls, I had to jump over to become agile and blocked roads I had to overcome to become smarter, I became frigid. And it was ironic because I'm sure God saw every job I had ever taken and I still pulled through, but when it came to life itself, I couldn't believe I was facing other trials again outside of work. It was unbelievable to me that problems really were PROBLEMS and not just singular.
And I remembered a song, one day, thy will be done, and I really began to take into consideration that it meant literally whatever God taught me was best for me, allowing him to take the reins and do what he had to do in my life-despite my preferences, especially since I was a wanna-be warrior of God.
I guess I felt because I could choose my jobs, it was my responsibility to stick it out or move on and not attach much to it, but when other aspects of my life became tough. I couldn't believe or even accept that God wanted and was really overseeing things that got so seemingly out of control and then I was to just accept it. But try to be hardheaded as I might,even now as I write this. I remembered the old hymn of potter and the clay.
I recalled how versatile I had become as I was framed by the different work descriptions I had performed almost freely. Truthfully I wasn’t always sure why I did it, yet on the other hand, I knew I had a purpose and hesitated to allow God to do what he taught best and recreate me in his way using his methods.
I start to remember that my life was never supposed to be my own, that I said I would follow after the man who died for me, and if I followed him, why did I expect only roses and that I could always see every storm and walk away unscathed from most attacks?
Is the clay aware of how it is to be molded, or is it simply present in its state and receptive to the movements of its master?
Isaiah 64:8 ESV
But now, O Lord, you are our Father; we are the clay, and you are our potter; we are all the work of your hand.
Romans 9:20-21 KJV
20 Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus?
21 Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?