Plethora of Prayers - October 6, 2019

“All things are possible…”

But not all things are probable.

And I’m stuck in this devolution of desire for something that just doesn’t seem in the cards.

I’ve blamed You; and I’ve blamed me; and I’ve blamed the situation.

But blaming doesn’t bring me through the situation.

I’m in a whirlpool of revisiting all the worst parts of me, all the ways I’ve failed the last almost 3 years.

Make peace with the present…

…but, I don’t know how to make peace with this.

Or, at least, I don’t know how to make lasting peace with this.

I have minutes; I have moments.

But then the current swoops me back in, and I’m lost in feeling…

Well, feeling all the feelings.

And I’m derailed; distracted; damaged.

—

Consider it joy…

The testing of your faith produces patience…*

I am weak; I’m human; I’m struggling to get through this test.

What if there’s nothing for me to do – and the “making peace” in this fase means only that I should look to You at each moment of weakness and ask for wisdom, discernment and courage to act in each instance.

That’s a short leash.

Shorter than I’m accustomed to…

Can I say that I don’t like it?

Can you still love me if I tell You I’m struggling hard against the discomfort of this fase. I’m uncomfortable in my skin; uncomfortable with questioning (almost) every step; uncomfortable with how I’m being read by others.

I am supposed to be wholehearted, all-in – with trust and gladness – taking each step with positive anticipation.

I’m not there.

Nowhere near.

But, even still, I trust that You know what’s ahead. I trust that there’s a maturity, a completeness, on the other side of this that will set me on firm ground in a way that nothing in my past has done. I trust that there is purpose to this…

And I trust that if I ask for wisdom and discernment, for courage, for grace to gill in the gaps, that it will be available for me to hold onto though this tumult of feelings and the process of learning.


*James 1: 2-6

Reflections – Year 38 Day 278

I told her, “When you talk with God next, ask him to give me wisdom and discernment on my next steps…” 

Because, the truth is – I haven’t been taking a whole lot of steps lately.

It’s more like – I’ve been waiting for that patient little push from behind. That encouraging kind of …you got this, girl – that’s the direction you should head… <PUSH>

…that’s what I’ve been banking on for next steps.

—

There’s not a whole lot of confidence on this side of things. And in case you haven’t been close enough to me to hear the story – the summer of 2019 was a daily reminder of just HOW. UTTERLY. HUMAN. I am.

That’s it.

Human.

That’s all I’m working with…

And even when I am trying to be super-human…nope. It’s just normal human.

Human to the core. F-ing things up royally up one side and down the other…even though that isn’t my intention. It’s not enough. I’m not enough. There isn’t enough energy. There isn’t enough time. There isn’t enough anything…

And, so I’ve been asking for grace to cover the gaps.

I’ve been asking for wisdom and discernment – and courage.

And today, I identified that my confidence is at an all-time low…and I’m just taking hesitant steps forward when I feel the push from behind that confirms my direction and my space.

—

I told her a story from back in the day…

A moment in time when I was super-stressed, falling apart really…and I knew I needed to write, but writing was (is) work – and I opted to do the easier thing…I learned how to make custom jewelry.

It was the colors.

And the textures.

And the act of creating a whole thing out of separate, often times unmatchable, beads.

From a random pile, into a string that told its own story of color and dimension.

And I knew, with each new piece created, that I was being lazy.

I knew, I was wasting my time…

Maybe “waste” is too harsh…

Delaying the inevitable.

Creating jewelry wasn’t my calling.

It wasn’t fulfilling my soul-need, my default mode of operation…

It was just an easy distraction.

Something I could lose myself in without creating any real, lasting impact on my purpose.

“I feel like I’m there again,” I told her.

Recognizing that I’ve just been really distracted.

Sure, learning some lessons while I was passing the time.

Not a terrible thing – just not really making any impact.

—

I’m at the crossroads where the path divides out – and I’ve been sitting at the cafe having a cuppa, building up the courage to take the trail I’m supposed to, taking any opportunity to chat up visitors, getting a top off to warm my mug…making it last as long as possible, complaining about the inconvenient weather, wishing I didn’t have to walk alone…

I can’t limit myself to always needing a push to take the next step, right?

Making peace with the present isn’t just about acknowledging the parameters of my reality, it’s also about resolving the unresolved issues of said reality.

And while a lot of those “issues” seem very mundane – who really likes revisiting piles of poo that were poorly cleaned up the first go around?! – that first level of commitment is the proving ground.

I don’t get to level up until the peace I do have the rights to is managed.

I gotta take responsibility for what’s already in my domain…the stuff I can so (too) easily ignore…because while your war seems so much “better” than mine, I can’t really make a difference – for you, for me, for our future, for the world – if I’m still at battle in my own.

Making peace with the present.

It’s a challenging path. I’d much rather stay at the cafe for another cuppa.

The distraction is so clever, so shiny…so comforting – because it’s easier to keep talking about our wars, than actually doing anything to resolve them.

But, that’s too much work, isn’t it?

And peace…well, that’s passive, right?

No. Actually, it’s not…

The Hardest Goodbye Ever

"Just make sure he loves you good, Sunshine." 

He tapped my nose playfully with his index finger; and tenderly traced the curve of my cheek with his thumb. 

Gently. Oh, so gently. He knew his work-worn fingers were rough, and he was careful with me.

Care.

If there was anything he radiated without shame, it was his care for me.

I looked up into his eyes. They were wet with honest tears about how hard this goodbye was for him too. 

THE. HARDEST. GOODBYE. EVER.

I dove into his chest and wrapped my arms around his middle holding on tight. Holding on like I would never let go. I didn't want to... 

How could I?

"I promise." I croaked through the tears - and then tried again.

"I promise I'll wait until he loves me as good as you do..."

I fell apart at the end. And he held me.

We both knew, I'd be waiting a long time... 

...but, it would be worth it. 

And I could tell you how he stroked my hair as we both cried holding each other; I could tell you how after a deep breath, he pulled away and reverently kissed my forehead - a kiss that was both holy and full of lust-heat; I could tell you how he waited for me to get into the car, closed my door for me...watched me drive away... 

Hardest goodbye ever?

No. It was the scariest.

Leaving love like that, knowing that its time was done; heading towards love unknown, untested..heading towards what would be the love of my life...

And people think love stories are the best things ever.

I don't know if I agree with that... 

They're both...terrific and terrible; awesome and awful...

...they are what you are - real, in all the best of ways, and in all the worst of ways. 

Image Credit: Steve Buissinne