What to do when you don't know what to do

I have a book sitting next to my bed called "Plan B" ... it's about what to do when "Plan A" doesn't work out.
Every day I have a new plan for my life.
The one magazine I subscribe to just ran an article about 11 things you should know/do around your 25th ish year of life.

I've been thinking a lot about where I should go next, what I should do next, what I should do at all with my life, what my long term goals are, who I want to be, what I want to do. Do I go back to school? Do I get a doctorate? Do I become a writer? Do I stick with performing? Do I try to find a new job? Do I keep taking auditions? Can I still do an internship at NPR even though I'm out of school? Will I ever get married? How can I get a job being a professional friend (like, driving around the country encouraging my friends and crashing on their couches)?

I've asked these sorts of questions my whole life. Which is why at one Passion Conference I fell in love with Micah 6:8 where it says "...the LORD has already told you what is good, and this is what he requires: to do what is right, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God."

At prayer with my new church tonight I was reminded of this verse and on my way home from prayer I was again thinking about these questions.

And here's what I think you do when you don't know what to do, where to go or how to get there ... Breathe. And do something. Anything, really, but mostly do whatever is right in front of you to do.

So tonight I will go to bed. And tomorrow I will go to work. And I will be present at work, not lost in some fantasy land, because I'm in Cleveland now and Cleveland needs my full attention and my love, and I have love to give Cleveland and who knows, somewhere in this city, there just might be the next clue on this treasure hunt of life and it just might be right in front of my face ... eventually. And after work I will practice and then maybe I'll do some reading or some writing before riding to rehearsal with friends. Because that's what I have to tackle next. My doctoral dissertation doesn't need to be written tomorrow. But coffee does need to be made tomorrow. And I'm just the woman for the job.

So tomorrow I'll do what is right, I'll love mercy and I'll walk humbly with my God ... and then we'll take it from there.

Charlie Hall sings a version of "Micah 6:8" and I was obsessed with it for a good long time ...

Overrated

I haven't typed extensively in a fairly long time. I did that marathon run of typing at the end of November to finish off NaNoWriMo. Which I did, but it took two days to write about 25,000 words. Which is a lot of typing. So I inadvertently gave my tiny muscles a little rest. Also, I've been really busy and exhausted at work. It feels surprisingly good to be typing again, and the rhythmic clicking of the keys on the keyboard is rather soothing ... much akin to the rhythmic clicking of the turn signal indicator in a car -- which is why I always use my turn signals.

This weekend is the bi-annual (that means every two years, right?) Wible family Christmas party. Every other year, on the even years, on the Saturday before or after Christmas, all the Wibles (so all the family on my dad's side) come to our house and hang out. Now, most people may groan at this thought, but that's because most people are not members of my family. My family kicks your family's butt. Well, we would, if we didn't love you so much. I do seriously wish every person on the planet could be a part of my family. I'll bet a great deal of the problems would be null if they spent some time with my family. Also probably some of the crises in Africa as well. We're pretty much the best. And super humble, too. Except for me. But somebody has to speak up for us. Anyway. Here's just a small story about my family. It's really a small story, because it's mostly about me.

Recently I have not been playing the oboe. Well, I haven't been practicing it. I have instead been spending 40+ hours at Starbucks or in my car or my bed ... but not really so much time in bed, mostly at work, or my car. Or my kitchen, but not cooking things for me; instead baking things for Starbucks. That's not important. I haven't been practicing and I've been feeling bad about it. But here's the thing, I haven't been feeling bad about it because I miss it; I feel bad about it because I actually don't really miss it; I just feel guilty for not practicing when I know I should and when I know I need to because I still have gigs I need to play and I need to not suck and bring everybody else down. As much as I do love to help and serve people and will go out of my way to do things to make life easier on others, I can't seem to make myself practice, which would be a great service to my principal player, my conductor and the rest of my colleagues. So I've been feeling guilty about it -- like I'm letting my colleagues down and I'm wasting my education.

I was telling my Aunt Marshmallow this (I used to call her Aunt Marshmallow, to help me distinguish between Aunt Chocolate ... I'll tell that story another time). And this is what my Aunt Marshmallow who is now retired so wisely said:

"Guilt is overrated."

Not kidding. I love it!

So my new plan for life: Work for NPR on All Songs Considered. But I'm still going to take auditions and stuff. Because I do still like to be involved in the music-making process somehow; and truthfully, God has given me a gift to do it well. And I just don't know what to make of it.