Midnight Rendezvous

I need sleep.
But I need to write more.
Still, I am tired, so this will be an abridged method to holding me over in journalistic aspects for a little while. I might blog tomorrow during my free time.

I want to do everything. I mean that.
I want to be a fitness instructor. I want to write a book, start a volunteer organization, be an event planner, start a community kitchen, be a mom to 40 youth group kids. I want to be a mom want day. I want to cook meals for people who could use a hand up on that particular day. I want to be really involved in something that serves the needs of moms. I want to cook healthy, delicious meals, and get in about 5 hours of working out in a week. I want to hand out hope and encouragement. I want to travel and experience new places and cultures.

I used to think this wide-eyed "the world is my oyster" way of thinking was somewhat unique to me. I'm finding out that it is not. I am unique in the make up of who I am, but not in the fact that I am sometimes so overtaken by the bigness of the world and the handfuls and handfuls of good ideas that exist for what to do on the biggest playground called Planet Earth. I mean, there are people whose boo-boos need to be kissed, and fights that need to be broken up. There are people that need some love and attention, and there is food to be cooked. There are friends to be made and rides to be ridden.

One of the ideas that I've settled on to help me grasp the bigness of life, is that there is bigness in small things. Greatness doesn't depend on whether I carry out one of my big plans. It depends on the kind of attitude I carry when I serve my husband dinner. It depends on whether I am able to step away from myself to look for what the people around me really need.

So, if I want to open up a community kitchen, I'll start by cooking for people I know could use it. I'll start where I am.
Because life isn't about what I get paid for, or where I volunteer hours. It's so much more wholistic than that.

That's all I've got tonight.
It's bed time.