Becoming a Lawyer Among Other Things

It is singularly the strangest thing that I have ever considered. I never honestly truly considered becoming a lawyer, and it’s so very odd that I might actually be thinking about it. My father is a lawyer, and he’s a decent one in comparison to others. However, for many long years, I scorned the very idea of becoming a lawyer. I didn’t want to become one because I had seen so many terrible ones, been through too much pain because of my parents’ divorce and because I had seen so much of the law process on the receiving end that I never wanted to be doling out so much pain and misfortune.

And yet, now I’m actually considering becoming one because I’m able to take a second look at everything now that I’m an adult. I can help people, protect people, and become a part of the governmental system. I can inflict great damage, but can also encourage great change.

I have all the skill sets for becoming a lawyer. I have a great mind, acting skills, the ability to think quickly on my feet while referencing several facts at once. I have so much to offer. I love the idea of learning law. I love the idea of really becoming a person who can affect many. I don’t know what kind of law that I’d like to do, although the idea of doing entertainment law would be quite interesting to try out. All I know is that criminal and family/divorce law would be completely out. I wouldn’t want to do anything of the family sort because of the fact that I’ve lived through it, and I know that it would be upon my head that so many divorces would have taken place. And for criminal law, I don’t want to be defending the people who did something wrong. If forced to do criminal law, I’d rather be a prosecutor and put the people behind bars that really deserved it.

But this has been a very interesting paradigm shift. I didn’t expect to really enjoy working for my father and doing odd jobs in his office to help things run a little more smoothly for him. I didn’t expect for everything to start pointing to my going to law school. I didn’t expect much at all. I went into working for him with reluctance, not expecting to really enjoy helping him out and around his office. I didn’t expect to really take to it at all. I didn’t want to. But now it looks like  I’m going to be going right into the profession that I’ve been aimed towards since I was three years old and in a Suffolk University track suit back in the 80’s.

~*~

Christmas is so overrated. It’s annoying me because of the fact that it’s become something so materialistic and has strayed so far from the origins that it was supposed to have. Christianity is a fulfillment of Judaism. Jesus Christ the Messiah fulfilled the Hebrew prophesies about who the Messiah is supposed to be.

Easter is the fulfillment of Passover. And yet it’s become all about finding the Easter eggs and getting candy and it’s about the Easter rabbit and going to church and listening to the story of Jesus rising from the dead. They skim over the Passover meal, save for the part where Judas Iscariot betrays Jesus. They love that part. Betrayal adds drama to the story. But it had been about the Passover Lamb being slaughtered, sacrificed, so that many could live in freedom.

Christmas is the fulfillment of Hanukah. Yet now it’s about Santa Claus, the fat man in red, bringing presents to girls and boys, giving them what they’ve wanted all year. Again, it’s a great day for the holiday Christians to pack into church again to hear the story of the birth of the Man who would die thirty-three years later so that their souls would be saved. But the holiday isn’t necessarily about giving what people want. Jesus didn’t want to die. But He needed to so that He could save humanity. He came to want what His Father wanted, which was what He needed to do. We might want to have our souls saved, but we need it more than we want it. Hanukah is the festival of lights. It’s about the Maccabees who fought for Jerusalem and had enough oil to light the lamp for eight days. Jesus is the light of the world, and He fights with us, His light guiding us.

Why have we prostituted our holidays to consumerism and materialism? I’m angry because of that simple fact. I can’t stand Christmas carols because of how commercialized they’ve become.

In a rather large nutshell … that is why I can’t stand Christmas.

Small Changes

So I’m learning about a new program called Windows Live Writer … apparently, it’s done very well in emulating my blog so that I can work on blog stuff without having to even be online. That’s a bonus. The only time I have to be online would be to actually upload and publish my thoughts. I highly approve of this.

Moving on, I’ve been working for my lawyer father on the days that I’m not working for Build-A-Bear, and it’s been very interesting. I’m finding out that I’m enjoying being around lawyers. I have the perfect mind to be doing law work, and my skill sets are perfectly suited for the job. I’m glad that I’ve finally really come to that realization. God’s been shoving my nose in that direction for a long time, but I just didn’t want to see it. I didn’t want to be a lawyer because “all lawyers are evil.” I didn’t like them, I had a bad taste in my mouth because of the crap that had gone down in my parents’ divorce.

But in that I can now look objectively at the profession as a thinking adult, now almost six years out of high school, having survived two and a half years in an intense seminary … I’m starting to realize that there’s something that I can do about all that. I can be a good lawyer.

More than that, I’m know that I’m going to be able to really make a difference in this world by being a lawyer. Or a judge, if I decide to go that high in the judicial system. Who knows?

Afraid

When I see a picture of him, I can still feel as if I can reach out and brush my hand along his jaw, feeling the intoxicating blend of stubble and skin. The thought stops me in my path, and makes me feel like my heart will beat out of my chest, making it hard to breathe. When I get that first deep breath in, I feel the love rekindle, burn brighter.

I feel that I'm not good enough for him sometimes, and I act out because of that, almost like trying to get him to see the worst in me. But he never does. And he never gives up on me, never gives in to that little dark voice in the back of my head screaming, "Don't you see what you're going to be getting into?! Don't you get it? Dump me! Free me! I'm not worth your time, your money, your investment, your love!!! I'm not worth it!" And it's in moments like that, the moments of calm after the fights and squabbles, that I want to give into that dark voice and make things worse, and make him hate me so that he can see me for who I really am: Broken. A record that once had held a fantastic song upon it that I can't hear anymore.

I can't figure out why I do the things that I do. I don't know why I act out. I don't know why I snap and snarl. Is it insecurity? Is it trying to get him to hate me so that I can please my mother and marry a man that she approves of? Is it the agony of having half a continent between us that is the reason behind why I can't reach out and run my hand over his cheek, weaving my fingers through his as we walk beside each other, kissing him, feeling his wonderful embrace?

Or is it just this feeling of not being worthy enough?

Is it because I want to do so much, but I can't for the life of me figure out how to weave together both the dreams I have and my relationship with this amazing man? I can't see that yet, and that confuses me and hurts me because to marry him is a dream that I really want to see happen. I want to see so much happen in my life, but I don't know where to start. I'm overwhelmed by so much, unable to sit back and comprehend everything that is coming up before my eyes.

And then I'm brought to wondering if I'm allowed to have so many wants. I haven't had much in my life, and I cling to things, to behaviors, to so much ... because I'm afraid that if I let go, I'm never going to be able to catch them again. I want freedom, and yet I'm afraid to open my wings. I'm reluctant to unfurl them completely because I've had them tucked so tightly to my back that they're stiff and sore. I don't want the wings of freedom to get bruised, hurt, broken ... I don't want to leave the ground because I'm comfortable here. I don't want to go too high because I'm afraid that I'll fall.

I'm afraid to love a man with my whole heart. I'm afraid to open my eyes to see flaws. I'm afraid to really take a stand against my mother. I'm afraid of so many things and I just cover it all up under cotton bandages, knitted wool sweatshirts, and a Decepticon baseball cap.

But I'm not afraid to cry.

So for now ... I cry. Because writing these truths and feelings help me open my wings a little more.