You Are A Designer Original

I went swimming last night at the local pool. It’s the first time I’ve been swimming in several years. Halfway through my first lap I remembered WHY it has been so long. Water in my nose, water in my ears, a panic attack as soon as I crossed the line where I could no longer touch the bottom of the pool if I stopped. I’d forgotten how to breathe correctly, which stroke was which.

The grace of the swimmer is not mine, even though I’d love to be able to slip through the water like a mermaid. So do I fight against my natural design, or move on and find what I am graced to do?

It seems that in our “be all you can be” culture, we’ve forgotten a simple principle: there’s a difference between being mass-produced and being designed by a designer. We are designed – so individualized we can be identified from any other human being by everything from our DNA to our fingerprints. As someone has said, “You’re an original, don’t die a copy.”

We abide by this principle in other areas, but ignore it for ourselves. My little sports car isn’t designed for 4-wheeling. A minivan isn’t designed to drag race.

German shepherds and Labrador retrievers aren’t designed to be lap dogs (someone neglected to inform our Lab mixes of this fact). Kitchen mixers aren’t designed to mix drywall mud. Butter knives aren’t screwdrivers. Evening gowns don’t make good yoga-wear. And the list goes on…

Have you found (and come to terms with) your divine design? Have you accepted the fact there are things you simply don’t like or aren’t very good at? I’m still working on it, but it’s getting easier to admit to myself and to others “I’m just not made that way” without feeling guilty and without feeling compelled to like things because someone else does.

What have you tried to force yourself to do even though you know in your heart it’s just not part of your design? 

2 thoughts on “You Are A Designer Original

  1. patti says:

    Hubby told me just a year ago,
    "I think you're finally happy in your own skin."

    He's right.
    Why did it take 55 years?

    Thank You, Lord.

  2. Niki Turner says:

    Patti, that makes me feel better! And hey, 55 years is a drop in the bucket compared to eternity! : )

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