So for the past few weeks I’ve been hanging out with my dad doing some remodeling to my bedroom. Yeah, I’m 24 and living at home. I’m paying rent, and paying back debt to school. If anything I think it’s a great way to reconnect with family who I haven’t seen in quite sometime.
Anyways, like I said I’ve been knocking down drywall, framing, and electric wiring just to move it, and put it back up (my dad has a lot of knowledge that I’m grateful for). We spent hours yesterday in Lowes yesterday looking at lights, wiring, and switches. For the past few years, all I’ve done is sit behind a computer, and work on creative projects.
Now I’m spending time with my family. Using my hands building things, and I love it.
I hope one day, I’ll be able to teach my son what his dad knows. I know I’m probably going to fail him, and my family one day, but I pray during that time they could learn grace. Like I am.
Back to building things with my hands. Did I say I love it. There’s nothing like using my hands, and imagining God creating this world that we live in. That’s probably the reason why I enjoy creating things so much. It’s almost as if we were created, to create. Well for men, that’s how it normally is. It’s along the same lines of being out in the woods, or getting lost in the woods! Oh dang, that’s an awesome feeling. It’s like you’re lost/scared, but you want to use the sun/stars to navigate your way down the mountain (tikaboo peak – another story maybe). It’s only natural.
I say all this because, recently if I’m honest with myself, I’ve gotten pretty frustrated with my parents comparing me to my 3 year old self.
“Aw, I remember when you were so little and cute.”
Well what am I now? Taller, and responsible. But while getting frustrated, I’ve missed the message of what they’re telling me.
They’re proud of me, and of who I’ve become.
To them, I’m their “creation” (take that lightly, God is creator of everything). They built me, from themselves. I am theirs. And it’s rude of me to neglect or to disrespect them by not allowing them to love me in the ways they are trying to.
Yes, I want to be independent, and am so in many ways. But…
They are my parents, and I will strive to respect them as best as I can, because one day… I will have children, and I hope they will understand what I do now as well.