Sometimes I do not want to write. But I will be laying in bed and this need washes over me, and I have to wake up my computer and let my hands find the keys that they are meant to. I cannot explain it. I cannot force it. It just simply happens.
Lately I have not wanted to write. I have fought the feeling, the need, the desire. I do not want to share my thoughts with the world. Because the world does not need to know what I am currently thinking. Then I receive a call from a friend, thanking me for sharing my heart. Thanking me for being so honest. And I am reminded why I do this. I do it to get the words outside of me. Once they are no longer in me, they are living. The thoughts are real, they latch on to some obscure truth and become a reality. I cannot stop it. This has to happen. Sometimes, sometimes... sometimes these thoughts touch other people. I write because I am selfish. I write because I am selfless.
I have recently felt a huge need to let go of someone whom I care about very much. I am so in love with this person, that letting go of them has sunk me into the deepest pit of despair that I have been in in six years. And it feels terrible. And oddly freeing. I have never been able to trust God with this person. What a horrible thing for me. I held on. Tightly. For dear life. This person to me is a dream. Some truth out there that I longed to grasp, to hold on to, to never let go of. A dream that I passionately desired (and still do desire). But I had to let go... because it was not right. Holding onto him was not right. It was not Godly. This kills me.
I do not know if I will end up with this person. Though, until two weeks ago, this was one of two truths that I believed with all of my heart. I do not know if we will end up being one of those couples that Gabriel García Márquez or Jane Austen wrote about in Love In The Time of Cholera or Persuasion. I do not know that we have a happy ending. This terrifies me. I hope and pray with all my heart that we end up together in the end. That we get our happy ending. This is what I long for, what I desire.
Circumstances, life, keeps us apart. Maybe it is for the best. Our futures do not line up. In the slightest.
As I was thinking about this tonight, something odd and wonderful hit me. As I've said, I have been sure of two things for the past few years. One was that I was supposed to be with this man. The other was that I am supposed to be an opera singer. Yet this sometimes did waver.
When I was younger and going off to college, I had two dreams. I was unsure of which to entertain. One was to become involved in music in some capacity and the other was to become a missionary to Africa. I have a deep heart for that continent. Oddly enough, God has lead this man to be a missionary. I have wondered, especially as of late, if I ended up making the wrong choice. Maybe I didn't quite hear God right? Maybe I misunderstood?
This man's mother and I keep in contact. As I questioned myself and opened up to her lately, she was harsh enough and kind enough to tell me the truth about becoming a missionary. After learning the things that one has to go through in order to even get to the mission field, I realized with a broken heart, that this is something that I would never even be able to do. Due to my many health issues and weird food allergies, there is no possible way that I would even pass the tests to be eligible to go. Even if I gave up the one dream for the other, I would not be able to join him on the field. This realization has destroyed me.
Yet tonight I realized something else. For a long time, I wanted to play the piano. This was my passion. Then I was diagnosed with carpel tunnel and tendonitis... making it pretty impossible to make this a career. This is how I started singing more seriously. I have always said that singing chose me, I did not choose it. But I have also always wondered if it was the right decision... now that I have learned about the difficulty of being able to become a missionary to foreign countries, I have realized that singing is the right thing. It is where I am supposed to minister. This is both frightening and enlightening.
In letting go of one dream, I find myself easier able to embrace the other.
I am still heart broken. Still in the deepest pit of depression that I have been in in years. Yet I know it will get better... my stash of pain killers is safely hidden in my roommates room. I have my eyes re-focused on God. Together, we will get through this. Though the tears keep falling... one day they will stop. One day I will understand why this all has happened. I will talk to this man again and he will give me answers to many currently unanswered questions. We will remain friends. I will always love him. Maybe one day... when we are old and gray... we will find each other again.
One can only dream :o)
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Ants
When I was younger, I used to have these moments of terror. I would go out into the backyard, where, under my brothers bedroom window was a flower bed where my Mom predictably always grew the same type of flowers every summer, while also tending to the 2 bushes that hibernated during the winter. This flower bed, however, was always infested with ants in the one corner. For some reason, they just loved it there and no matter what my Mom would do, they always found their way back to that one corner. Their home. During my reigns of terror, I would stomp on the ants, killing as many as possible, feeling completely in control. As soon as the massacre was over, I would immediately be flooded with a feeling of guilt as I watched the other ants swarm around their brothers and sisters, dragging their smushed up bodies back to the corner. I felt terrible. What had I done? My moments or terror did not last very long. Eventually my wonderfully fine tuned conscience won over and I would step over as many ants as possible, not wanting to kill any more of them. Hoping that by sparing these ones, I would somehow be freed from the guilt of killing so many.
To this day, if I see a spider or a fly, I have a difficult time killing them and will only do it in extreme circumstances (These extreme circumstances being things such as: a fear of the spider crawling into my mouth as I sleep, or a fly not leaving me alone for an hour... mosquitoes, poor souls, are exempt from this however, and will always get squashed. It is a sad truth. I have no patience for them). As I finished reading the beautiful novel, The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd, tonight, a thought washed over me. Were my moments of terror as a pre-teen brought on by the need to feel in control? To feel important? In these poor ants lives, I was a giant monster and in these moments, I was extremely important and in control. I do not think that I have control issues necessarily, but I do like to have a handle of things and become a little agitated when I do not know what is going on (who am I kidding? Control issues abound in my life).
This must be why I am thrown out of sorts when something happens that is beyond my control, but affects me deeply. Which is what has been going on as of late. Through a series of events (or non-events really...), I have come to the heartbreaking conclusion that the man that is always at the back of my mind when another guy asks me out, the man whom I always want to tell exciting things to when they happen, the man that I one day wanted to walk down a long aisle towards... when this man seemingly forgot that I existed... I realized that this is truly not the man for me. This realization was simultaneously terrifying and heart breaking. I was not in control of this situation. It bothered me. This is one of the main things that bothers me about relationships. I realize that it is not possible for one person to be in control, but I think it is important to share control. This was not happening in this instance. He had all of the control, held all of the cards. It was not right.
Though I am heartbroken and still feeling completely guilty about those ants, I realize that he is not the one for me. At least not in this moment, and may not be for years to come. Because when you care about someone, you want to talk to them. You want to start conversation with them. You want to see them. You want to share important and exciting things that are happening in your life with them. This was not happening on his end, yet it was happening on my end in abundance. Maybe I scared him away. Sometimes I think that maybe he just got caught up in school... But I of all people understand getting caught up in school. And I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt that you can make time for important people.
I guess I was not important. Once again I was not good enough. Once again love glanced in my direction, then looked the other way. Once again, I lost control.
But I have a friend who says that I will be okay. That, and the promises and hope of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ get me through. I will be okay. Maybe not today, definitely not tomorrow, but someday. One day. In time.
Blessings and love
Deena
To this day, if I see a spider or a fly, I have a difficult time killing them and will only do it in extreme circumstances (These extreme circumstances being things such as: a fear of the spider crawling into my mouth as I sleep, or a fly not leaving me alone for an hour... mosquitoes, poor souls, are exempt from this however, and will always get squashed. It is a sad truth. I have no patience for them). As I finished reading the beautiful novel, The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd, tonight, a thought washed over me. Were my moments of terror as a pre-teen brought on by the need to feel in control? To feel important? In these poor ants lives, I was a giant monster and in these moments, I was extremely important and in control. I do not think that I have control issues necessarily, but I do like to have a handle of things and become a little agitated when I do not know what is going on (who am I kidding? Control issues abound in my life).
This must be why I am thrown out of sorts when something happens that is beyond my control, but affects me deeply. Which is what has been going on as of late. Through a series of events (or non-events really...), I have come to the heartbreaking conclusion that the man that is always at the back of my mind when another guy asks me out, the man whom I always want to tell exciting things to when they happen, the man that I one day wanted to walk down a long aisle towards... when this man seemingly forgot that I existed... I realized that this is truly not the man for me. This realization was simultaneously terrifying and heart breaking. I was not in control of this situation. It bothered me. This is one of the main things that bothers me about relationships. I realize that it is not possible for one person to be in control, but I think it is important to share control. This was not happening in this instance. He had all of the control, held all of the cards. It was not right.
Though I am heartbroken and still feeling completely guilty about those ants, I realize that he is not the one for me. At least not in this moment, and may not be for years to come. Because when you care about someone, you want to talk to them. You want to start conversation with them. You want to see them. You want to share important and exciting things that are happening in your life with them. This was not happening on his end, yet it was happening on my end in abundance. Maybe I scared him away. Sometimes I think that maybe he just got caught up in school... But I of all people understand getting caught up in school. And I KNOW without a shadow of a doubt that you can make time for important people.
I guess I was not important. Once again I was not good enough. Once again love glanced in my direction, then looked the other way. Once again, I lost control.
But I have a friend who says that I will be okay. That, and the promises and hope of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ get me through. I will be okay. Maybe not today, definitely not tomorrow, but someday. One day. In time.
Blessings and love
Deena
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
