Passion: I suppose everbody has a definition of the word. To me, its a description of an obsessive or overwhelming desire or caring for something or someone. People can be passionate about another human being, a certain hobby, a food or a cause. Our pastor at the church often preaches about passion, but in his context its generally about mission, which is HIS personal passion. While the mission field is certainly a noble cause to be passionate about, Ive always felt kind of bad (either by accident or design) everytime he preaches about finding your passion in life, because I feel he is always intimating that we should be passionate about the same things he is.
Pharmacy is not my passion. Its my job. I do not wake up every morning with a burning desire to put my white coat on and serve mankind by delivering drugs into their hands. To be honest, I’d probably serve mankind better if I delivered LESS drugs into their hands. Americans take too many drugs, frankly. NO, Pharmacy is what I do…it does not define me. I rarely talk about the profession unless I am pressed into it by somebody who thinks its “interesting”, or “cool”.
I think what ever passion you have for something, its innate. I dont think you necessarily CHOOSE it, It kind of chooses you, and you can either act on it or not depending on your circumstances. For me, its a love of animals. My heart literally hurts when I see or hear about animals that are unloved, abandoned or abused. Whether its pets or livestock, animals shouldn’t be abused. They are helpless, especially domesticated animals.
Say what you want, people are not helpless. A person may be lazy or ignorant, but unless they are damaged either by accident or birth, a person is not helpless. They can choose to rise above circumstance or not. Our pets aren’t so blessed. Tho the lion’s share of my charitable donations each year goes to our church, a sizeable amount is also set aside for my animal charities: Humane society, the local shelter and various rescue organizations.
Recently thru Facebook, I “liked” a rescue group, for my particular breed of dog. I started following their posts and activities. This national org is amazingly well run and organized. Thru the efforts of their board and thousands of volunteers with a similar mind, they rescue, vet, foster, transport, and find forever homes for hundreds of dogs each year….dogs that likely would have been euthanized if not for their efforts. No dog is unworthy. No dog is hopeless. And unlike many rescue orgs, they will take mixed breeds also.
They run entirely on donations. They are passionate about what they do. Nobody takes a wage. All the money pays for caring for the dogs they rescue. I made regular donations, and occasionally when a plea came in for a special needs dog, I would donate whatever I could afford.
But, donations weren’t feeding my passion. I finally stepped up to the plate and asked if I could do more. They needed transporters–people willing to drive a leg while moving the dogs crosscountry. But mostly, they needed HOMES. Foster homes for the dogs to stay long term while they wait for somebody to choose them. I filled out the application and shortly was contacted by the zone coordinator and was given a home inspection to verify we were a safe and appropriate place. ” These dogs were already in the fire…we want to keep them from the frying pan too” she said.
A few weeks later I got the call. ” are you ready for a dog?”. It was kinda scary to actually receive the call. Because of my living situation (dogs outside while I am at work) , it was decided that I would qualify for older dogs only, which is perfect, because they tend to be the hardest to place, and there are so many of them. I got my first girl in June. Morbidly obese from being over fed, she was the sweetest thing you could imagine. All she wanted was to be around people. We walked her and kept her on a diet. I loved her. She shed over 10 lbs. A couple of weeks ago I got the call ” we have an adopter for your little girl”.
It was harder than I thought to say goodbye. Dang..with passion comes a bit of pain too.
Now we have a kindly old gent living with us. He is 10, and as sweet as our first girl was. He was turned into the shelter because his owner died and his kids (who ended up with him) claimed he always ran away. Well I’d run away too, if I was left alone all day by myself and ignored. Gent hasn’t run anywhere. He loves my two girls, and they play all the time. He talks alot when he wants treats and food, but is one awesome dog. Yes, he is in the sunset of his life, and if his sun sets at my house, so be it.
I’ve found my passion. I’ll serve these dogs. I’ll walk them, brush them, play with them and love them. They ask for nothing but a nice place to rest their bodies.
I think I am getting WAY more out of this than the dogs.