12 days: Finding Purpose

When faced with a momentous occasion looming on the horizon, it's perhaps natural and somewhat comfortable to first gaze back rather than courageously look ahead.  Most of us are resistant to change, afraid of upheaval, and presumably apprehensive about what may be in store for us around the proverbial corner.  Only when we are content with where we have been can we then be undaunted in the face of where we are headed.  Pursuant to that same line of thinking, we often draw demarcations in our lives:  before now, there was then; after then, there was that.  It's tidy, it's organized, and it separates the years from the other years, the bad times from the good, the crazy from the serene.  

Or, perhaps I'm wrong (the strange does occur!) and I'm of a particular class of individuals that, in their quest to prepare for the next chapter, enjoy looking back at the beginning of the book.  Call it being introspective or, perhaps, label it as having too much time on my hands.  Or both!  But, in a little less than two weeks, I plan on marrying the love of my life and beginning such a life thought to be inconceivable just a few short years ago.  What I once was, in large part, I will never be again. What I once did, to a large extent, I'll likely never do again.  And so on and so on.  

All of the aforementioned psychobabble shouldn't be characterized or interpreted as maturity, as that term is commonly understood, or having undergone some awakening that has just recently managed to break through my stubborn conscience.  Unfortunately for my future wife, I'm pretty much a 'what you see is what you have to deal with' type of cat.  Depending on your point of view, I'm likely always to be young at heart or immature; easy-going or lacking seriousness; joyful to be around or just a clown.  As a child of Mary Louise Smalley, it's rather difficult to change from extrovert to introvert, from bold to guarded, and from social to recluse.  That's just the way we are wired, folks.

That being said, and in the interest of sincerity and naked honesty, it's become increasingly apparent and obvious to myself, and perhaps even more obvious to those that know me best, that my life has recently been separated into two tidy, organized, and clear halves:  That without *purpose* and that now with.  And, while the journey to such a glorious destination has been arduous, rough, and complicated, the reason why I've finally arrived is brutally simple:  Stacey Lynn Blazina.

While most find purpose by way of their careers and/or their faith, I've never been all that interested in practicing law nor have I, while respecting those that do dearly, been able to hear His voice as clearly as others have heard.  I went to Duquesne to study law because I thought I wanted to be a politician.  I thought law school is where those that either are/or consider themselves to be above-average in intelligence usually go.  Since then, I've lost all interest in politics and I'm convinced that most people of above-average intelligence are usually smart enough to know what they want to do before taking on nearly $60K in student-loans. And, while I try to live my life by His teaching, I'd be insincere and dishonest if I were to proclaim that through God I have found my purpose.  I will not shut my eyes nor close my soul to His words, but I've yet to find my purpose through that which I cannot *see* and that which I cannot *feel*.  

I *see* my fiance interact with those we know not at all.  Her effortless grace and stubborn kindness never hides, never goes away.  That which we are born with is tough to discard in some corner or hidden behind some wall.  Where I lose patience, she (usually!) finds a way to lose frustration.  Where I see the worst, she (usually!) is able to sift through to locate the optimistic.  Where I see a lost cause, she sees a reason to search harder.

I *feel* her generosity, love, and respect for her family and my own.  I feel her commitment to our lives.  I feel her warmth throughout my days.  I *feel* loved.

Before her, I was meandering through life, folks.  I tried to be a good friend and I think I've succeeded.  I tried to be a good son, brother, and uncle.  I think I've succeeded.  I've tried to be a man that people liked and enjoyed spending time around.  I think I've succeeded.  But, I also tried to be a man that had a passion and purpose for something, anything.  I failed.  

Nothing struck me like my love for Stacey Blazina.  Nothing focused the unfocused.  Nothing drove the idle.  Nothing sparked the fire.  Nothing, but her.

In 12 days, I already know my purpose:  Be a good man, be a good husband, and, hopefully, be a good father.  

She gave me such a purpose.  I'll take it from here.