Vision

I’ve wanted to write this blog a hundred times in the past week or so, but never knew how to start, what to say, how to put into words something at its heart both thrilling and kind of exhausting.

So, you know I’ve been going through a crisis of sorts, and I’ve been thinking about it, trying to figure out its roots, its origin. As best as I can tell, this has been brewing for a while, some kind of mental shift. Probably since I graduated, and certainly in the year since then. And then May happened, and everything seemed to unravel as I realized I couldn’t do this anymore. Except I didn’t know what this was exactly, or why I couldn’t do it. I wanted to move, to travel, to paint walls, to move furniture, to do anything different. Life suddenly didn’t fit. It suddenly was everything I didn’t want and very little of what I did. This was confusing, unsettling. Was this it? Was this what it meant to be an adult? A constant fight with boredom? Is that really it?

Then Jesse started reading book by Andy Stanley called Visioneering, and he recommended I also read it, so I cracked it open. And then it hit me. I had lost vision for my life. I was killing time, feeling suffocated and bored and lonely. Because I had lost sight of something beyond the now.

When I was in school, I had goals, I had a trajectory, and I knew exactly why I was doing what I was doing. I had a purpose, a structure. A plan. And then I graduated. Started a job that wasn’t bad but wasn’t that good either. Then in May, I started to seriously question the book I’d been working on for the past three-plus years of my life, and that’s when the vision I had been slowly losing sight of just disappeared. Hello, life crisis.

I realized the other day that I’ve been here before. When we moved to Wilmington, I was moving from a time of no-vision and general unhappiness into a really bright time of having a vision and a trajectory. I was thrilled, was writing things like this. I had hope because I could see purpose. I could see more than just now.

Andy Stanley gives an example of a person filling bags with dirt. If that’s all you’re doing, you’re going to get bored really quickly. But if you’re filling sandbags to save your town from floodwaters, then you can fill those bags for days on end. When I was in school, I knew why I was doing what I was doing. Now, I’m just filling bags. I lost sight of the purpose behind my actions.

Vision gives significance to the otherwise meaningless details of our lives. And let’s face it, much of what we do doesn’t appear to matter much when evaluated apart from some larger context or purpose. […] But take those same routines, those same responsibilities, and view them through the lens of vision and everything looks different. Vision brings your world into focus. Vision brings order to chaos. A clear vision enables you to see everything differently.” (Andy Stanley)

Sabrina recently wrote:

It made me consider my 20s, thus far, on the whole. The choices I’ve made. Who has and hasn’t influenced them. What I hold sacred. And even when and how I’ve allowed that to be compromised. It made me evaluate my current circumstances very harshly and take a very clear look at where the path I’m on leads. And it made me think hard about the kinds of situations I would like to be in and consider very seriously realistic and feasible avenues for getting there.”

So, since reading that and starting Andy Stanley’s book, I’ve begun to seriously look at what I’m doing and why I’m doing it. I’ve started to resurrect the dreams and visions I’ve had in the past that have become dim with neglect. And I’ve started to look forward with a hope for new dreams.

(Side note: I swear, I wish I could have a crisis where I didn’t sound so ridiculous. I’m sorry. First, I’m all emo on you guys, and now I’m Miss Hope-and-Change and rainbows and bunny rabbits. Ha. Anyway.)

Last Thursday, I met with Evan and Robin far too early in the morning at the Port City Java downtown to talk Congo. We talked big picture, what could be, what might be. Not sure yet what should be or what will be, but the ideas were exciting. They were big. And those ideas were forward momentum to me. They were beyond now, beyond this. And that’s exactly what I needed.