January 2, 2014
The morning dawns dark and frigid. Sky peeks through the slats of the blinds, gray and threatening. I step out into the icy cold, the air thick, and anticipation wells up within me.
Today is for snow.
10 minutes later and I’m wildly searching the Planet Fitness parking lot, anything that appears to be a spot will make me happy, just so long as I get into the warmth. The whole ride I’m feeling incredibly thankful for warm houses, warm showers, warm soup, warm socks, warm STUFF. you name it, I’m thankful.
Once inside I make a beeline for my favorite row of treadmills (yes, I am a creature of habit). No treadmills open, and I want to throw a fit. I am currently experiencing the cliche of the new year. Resolutions. These dumb people and their dumb resolutions, ruining my routine. Give them 30 days and they’ll be out of here. But I can’t wait that long. And suddenly my snow day anticipation is smashed by the halting reality that I will now have to wait in line for a treadmill.
We’ve all got it. Whether it be in our work, in our home, in our family, in ourselves. These are the pieces of our world that we choose to invest fully in. To commit fully to. These passions define us. They make us or break us. How sweet it is to feel, to experience, to implement these parts of our heart, passion.
I remember the show. Walker Texas Ranger. I remember the scene. Little girl in a tub, shaking in terror, curled up into a corner, cowering behind this veil of a curtain. And then he comes, flings back the curtain [stealing privacy], tearing it with no regard [innocence, gone], unleashing his anger in ways unimaginable [demanding respect, forcing fear]. She cowers, she sobs, my heart breaks.
Walker Texas Ranger, 2007. Such an unsuspecting source exposing me to my passion. A passion that I have allowed to fade. A part of my heart I haven’t pursued. An issue that I’ve pushed to the back seat, as I fill my passenger seat with schoolwork, wedding planning, jobs, anything really.
I am passionate.
Against human trafficking.
The thought that practically smashed me in the face as I pouted over a lack of running machines in my little slice of the world.
What if all these “treadmill stealers” were channeling this newfound passion, this energy, this resolution into something world changing. What if WE could look beyond ourselves, beyond our New Years Resolutions, our lists and game plans? Our calenders full of the new and the old. What if our goals lasted longer than one simple month? What if we committed?
Where do your passions lie?
I’m passionate about justice. The kind of passionate that brings my blood to a boil. The kind that makes me want to talk, write, do anything I can. Just do something.
I’ve been letting this piece of me go for too long. Allowing my heart to get rusty, my memory to fade. But I don’t want to be numb anymore, I want to feel.
Rediscover YOU. Reach out for your passions. What has your heart been telling you, that maybe you are ignoring? I want to be in this boat together, pursuing what we’re made for [whatever that may look like].
Picturesque is never an option. Stuff gets messy, real life stuff isn’t pretty. There’s no way that human trafficking fits into my pink and gold life color scheme. But it’s where I’m called, it’s what I love, it’s people, fighting for people.
I can be a voice for the voiceless.
2014 is our year. Let passion flow, pure and free.
P.S. It’s 2014. A clean slate. I plan to write more about my passions, my friends pursuing their passions, and all the ways you can join me to fight the atrocities affecting women and girls all over the world. Feel free to contact me at any point with questions, ideas, etc.