Category: Intentionality

Hope, Intentionality

Boldness

Carrie Sue Barnes

“It’s a bold move to Photoshop yourself into a picture with your girlfriend and her kids on a ski trip with their real father. But then again, Michael is a bold guy. Is bold the right word?” (Jim Halpert, “A Benihana Christmas” episode)

I experience frequent bursts of courage. They aren’t stretches or phases or anything else that might imply a lasting nature. No, my courage to make bold moves, decisions and statements comes in bursts; exciting little spurts that I find irresistable in the moment, and often regrettable after the fact. It’s true. When the courage hits me, it cannot be resisted. I am its dancing marionette. And boldness is a fickle, laughing puppeteer, swinging my arms and legs, opening my mouth and speaking for me. If I didn’t enjoy the passing moments of courage so much, I might build up some defenses against them. Isn’t it fun though? Isn’t it a thrill to say what you really long to say to someone, or to sign on for a challenge before reasoning with yourself against it? The power of that thrill, that self-daring willingness to try and willingness to fall, holds sway over me. Goethe (or whoever really made the statement) was right: boldness does have power and magic in it. He said it had genius too but maybe the presence of that characteristic shouldn’t be assumed. At least with me, it’s pretty hit or miss.

What is consistent is this experience of being true to myself. That’s what matters, according to Shakespeare, right? I have come to appreciate the integrity, the sincere engagement between my will and my actions that is involved in moments of boldness. Whether shallow and trite, or deep and meaningful, if the matter at hand requires any degree of courage, if it requires facing a moment of hesitancy with stubborn resistance, I am likely to consider it worth the effort. Is it always worth the effort? Is the bold choice always the right, the prudent, the wise choice? Are my instances of courage untainted by folly or selfishness? Nope. Lesson learned time and time again. Am I better off resisting though? I loathe the thought of becoming someone who is only guided by an “I know better than to try” or “I know better than to expect” attitude. How easily I might adopt that mindset! How self-contained and protected it would be! I won’t lie. Sometimes I wish for a little self-defense against the optimism and willingness to try that seems to come naturally to me. Sometimes self-contained and protected sound comforting. I’d not only have to sacrifice the boldness though; the self-respect would have to go too.

Intentionality

LOL: True or False?

Carrie Sue Barnes

Anytime I read something that includes “LOL”, be it a text message, email, facebook comment or other such online conversation, I wonder, “Did they really laugh out loud?” I wonder what the percentage is of people who truly laugh out loud, laugh their asses off and roll on the floor laughing when they claim to do so? Probably pretty small. Are we turning into a whole race of annoying Julie’s? I don’t blame J. D. at all. No one can sincerely say that typing LOL feels as good as physically laughing out loud. Maybe we are actually losing our ability to laugh out loud! If I quickly make those 3 keystrokes in order to move on to my next full words, rather than taking a moment to laugh at what I just read or heard or saw, think of how many laughs I am missing out on each day! For a person who is in the frequent habit of using those acronymns, the number could be atrociously large. Couldn’t we all benefit from a little more loud, from the gut laughter or shaking fits of giggles in our days? Supposedly laughter is contagious, so wouldn’t you be doing more good by sharing the sound of your amusement with whomever happens to be in hearing range rather than conveying a merely mental laugh with the person on the other end of that text or facebook conversation?

Cosmo Brown would find us LOL-ers pitiable, don’t you think? He knows what we’re missing.

Faith, Friendship, Intentionality

Tiring of Well-Worn Ways

Carrie Sue Barnes

“When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view.” (Ella Wheeler Wilcox)

There is a restless uncertainty stirred up in me that I cannot leave unexamined. Six years ago, I graduated from college and moved here to Appleton with my sister, Jessica and one of our closest friends, Amy. The three of us excitely began this new stage of life. I had finished my Theology degree and was determined to start my career; Jess just returned from a year of missionary work in Jamaica and had a nursing job lined up at a hospital here; Amy was moving away from her family and hometown for the first time, with plans to enter college. Everything was new. The potential of the unknown surrounded us on all sides. I am happy to say that in all the ups and downs, the plans that succeeded and the plans that failed, we savored the experience together.

Truth be told, none of my original after-college plans withstood the test of time. I do not work at a Catholic parish or at a retreat center or for a diocese. I am not married. I don’t even live on my own. When I graduated and set out to find work as a director of religious education or youth minister, I had no intention of writing a novel within the next few years, and I had no intention of being an adminstrative assistant for the forseeable future. My intentions were specific, and they were wrong. The Lord closed every door I tried to open. He reminded me again and again how even during my studies, I knew in my heart that I was not called to be a DRE or youth minister. I pursued the logical choice because that was far less frightening than not having something specific to pursue. As He closed those doors and I wrestled with discouragement, the ideas began to come. I began to write. I praise Him now for preventing my stubborn, unenlightened plans.

Recalling God’s display in these years of His wisdom’s superiority over mine, I am left wondering when God will turn me in a new direction again. I question myself, “Where is He leading me now? Does He desire for me to settle in here or am I settling for less than what He has for me?”

Last night, Jess, Amy and I completed an ongoing tradition that began when we moved to Appleton together. It wasn’t anything deep or significant to the outsider, but it was a tradition very closely tied to the stage of life we began together six years ago. The emotional effect that its end had on me was a surprise. I thought about those six years, about what has and has not happened, and how all that is now looks so very different from all that was then. Amy has moved back to our home area but is living on her own and establishing a life there. Jess is happier in her job and with herself than she has been since leaving Jamaica. And I… well, I am still writing. My relationship with my family has altered and deepened in ways I didn’t expect, and the Lord has stretched and molded me via my life at my parish. The close of our tradition last night has me asking if I shouldn’t be so settled here. I certainly long for more, for new. I wait for publication and further writing opportunities. I wait for falling in love and marriage. I wait for adventures and friendships that have not crossed my path yet. But waiting and trusting in God’s plans doesn’t automatically imply inaction. While my heart will only find true rest in Him, I cannot believe that there are not other aspects to the restlessness. For it is in pursuing the desires of the heart, in taking chances and moving at the behest of the Holy Spirit, that I may draw nearer to my Lord. I don’t want to merely wait! I want to engage and pursue and try! I do wish I better understood how.