I have debated for along time whether or not this blogging business is for me. I’m not a comedian, or expert, or motivational speaker. I don’t own an expensive camera that will capture beautiful images of delicately iced cupcakes that I whipped up in my pristine granite kitchen. I’m not an organic gardener, or classically trained musician. I don’t excel at sports, or have oodles of inspirational messages to share. I’m not a professional at anything except maybe eating and laughing.
And that got me thinking; what am I then? I am confident that I am something. I don’t believe God just sits around like a sweet grandma, knitting people together in their mother’s wombs so they can flutter around like shy birds for their entire lives. And it’s not that I wonder why I am alive. I don’t. I am very aware of the overall purpose for my life on earth. (See Colossians 1:10-12) But my problem is this: I am, without a doubt, the least introspective person on the planet. Ask my husband. I guarantee he knows way more about me that I do.
When we first started dating, there was a long stretch of time where I was meeting new people often- family members of his, coworkers of his, friends from college, friends from high school. I love meeting new people, so it was totally great! Until they would ask simple questions like “What do you like to do?” I would get so uncomfortable, as if expressing pieces of my personality was a foreign language. It dawned on me that I had never really taken the time to cultivate little interests or aspects of myself into something I could confidently claim.
Since that time 3 years ago I have done a better job of getting acquainted with my own interests, and passions, and hobbies, but sometimes I am still lacking in the introspection department. I know what I like and dislike, what I enjoy doing, what is life-giving to me, and what keeps me awake at night. But this “clueless Melody” scenario has played itself out in my life so many times. I don’t learn things about myself because I don’t spend time thinking and reflecting about them. I don’t learn things about God, and life, and purpose because I don’t spend time wondering about them.
To be honest, this is probably the fourth draft of this blog post I have written. (I am a perfectionist.) And after reading the first draft, Tim joked with me about whether I was going to title my blog “Adventures in Self Exploration.” No, this isn’t going to be some weird finding-myself-journal for lost souls. I know who I am- I’m Melody Cynthia Fritson. I may not have a title like “comedian,” or “photographer,” or “teacher,” but I am “wife,” and “friend,” “funny,” “creative,” and “alive.” I will admit that sometimes I can feel a little awkward in my own skin- I still don’t know what I want to be when I grow up, or if I even want to grow up at all. (I am also an idealist.) But thankfully, there is beauty in the fact that I can be a great many things. And today I have become “writer.”