Some Musings on My New Life

Once again, I am posting too infrequently, but some encouragement from my dear friend Bethe has inspired me to use this Saturday morning for a better purpose than sleeping until Noon. Although, opening my eyes at 10:00 this morning was a heavenly respite from the crack of dawn risings I’ve been putting in since starting my new job, which I am in love with, by the way.

My transition from feeling like a girl/young woman to feeling like a adult woman has been amplified greatly by my move out of the DFW area, away from my safety net of friends and family, and into an area where I know no one and nothing is familiar. Southlake was a little haven of protection and comfort for me. With lifelong friends, supportive and overprotective parents, and everything at my fingertips, I was loathe to strike out on my own into the unknown. I had a plan for my life, the way I wanted it, and I strove in vain to make it come to fruition. But Jesus Christ had other plans for me and a way that was higher than my limited scope.

Looking back now, even at only a month and a half into the transition, I am whole heartedly convinced that I am exactly where God would have me. And there is nothing more calming and merciful to a stereotypically anxious heart like mine than that feeling of peace and conviction. If you’ve ever read my blog in the past, it is painfully evident that my heart is one of passion–easily made anxious and swinging like a pendulum back and forth as I try to navigate this crazy thing we call life on this side of heaven.

The transition has been made all the sweeter by the lovely community to which I moved.

For a person like me, I have to put down roots in order to feel confident, and I’ve been doing just that. Galaxy Bakery and Coffeehouse in Georgetown has become one of my favorite places to eat something decadent, enjoy a sweet coffee drink, and read the current series I am enthralled in, A Song of Ice and Fire (which is phenomenal if you love Lord of the Rings, Arthurian legends, and social intrigue set in a fantasy world–so essentially this is a little piece of literary heaven for me). Few things in life are as good to me as literature, cupcakes, and coffee, so Galaxy has helped me feel good about Georgetown. I’ve been slowly trying out some wonderful restaurants, coffee shops, spas, bookstores, and antique stores around our little historic square, and each one is better than the last. After spending most of my life in fast-paced suburban Southlake, it’s endearing to walk the square on the first Friday and second Saturday of the month when all of Georgetown turns out for a mini festival. Stores stay open later, complimentary food and wine is distributed, people stand on street corners and chat, and live music spills out of the many bistros, wineries, and restaurants. Everyone is friendly and kind; they are a small town people in a tight-knit community. It’s charming, and I’m a sucker for charm–every time.

Probably one of the biggest changes in my life since moving away has been the amount of time that I spend in quiet solitude. If you know me, you know that I’m a talker; I always have something to say and I love sharing my thoughts with anyone who will listen. In fact, sometimes I don’t even require a willing listener. I’ll talk your ear off even if you haven’t solicited my thoughts. When I lived in DFW, I had a group of friends that I was always was talking to and spending time with; I ate dinner with my parents every evening and always bounced my ideas, thoughts, dreams, fears, and worries off of them in the evenings. In fact, quiet times were rare. I stole them on lunch breaks to do my Bible study or in the car on the way to The Village Church in Flowermound. Here, I am constantly assaulted by the quiet of my apartment and my long commute to work each morning and night. At least in the beginning it felt like an assault. Now, more and more, I’m learning to love the opportunity it gives me to think, analyze, pray, and rest. I’m having to determine what I truly think about things and make decisions using my own discernment, rather than just relying on that of my parents. The long and short of that is, it’s forcing me to grow up.

Since I decided that I was going to be that girl…that woman…who didn’t accept second best, I’ve been approaching this life at a dead-on sprint. But that kind of approach is exhausting, particularly since this life is more like a marathon…a journey. The race is long, and after pushing myself strategically to get to where I am today at 24 years old, I can honestly say that the peace and quiet of my new life is welcomed and coveted. It provides a sweet balance that was missing in DFW.

None of this is to say that I don’t miss my fantastic friends and family. I miss them all the time, but I can already see God’s hand at work in my life–putting me in specific situations, testing my resolve, rewarding my obedience, and strengthening my faith. He has made Himself very evident in my life, and His blessings have been sweet. Though the past was good and brought me to the place my feet stand now, I know that God’s plans for my future are true, trustworthy, and more than I can imagine.

I take heart in knowing this: Isaiah 43:18-19

“Remember not the former things,
nor consider the things of old.
¹⁹ Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
    and rivers in the desert.”

I Wanted You More

I’m going to try to make this blog more than just a collection of my relational attempts and failures. Now that I’ve finally turned the page and closed this past chapter of my life, I feel that a good idea would be to actually chronicle all of the goings-on of my life. So future posts will also talk about my latest decorating finds or recipes that I try or fun weekend trips that I’ve taken.The tone and emotional color of this blog will be taking a facelift. However, today is not that day. I reserve the right to linger once more on a topic that is near and painfully dear to my heart, purely because of the day that it is.

Today is October 2, 2011; it’s a Sunday evening. Today, the man who I considered to be the great love of my life returned from Iraq for two weeks leave. I’m closer to him today with the distance of Fort Worth to Austin between us than I have been since I kissed him good bye in a La Quinta parking lot eight months ago when I bid him goodbye and sent him away to Iraq. From that moment, it was pure hope that kept me going–hope that our love was strong enough to survive deployment; hope that the dreams we were dreaming and the future we were planning were actually going to come to pass. It was a lean, tasteless existence to live on a diet of hope, Skype, and email, but I did it because I loved him…I loved us.

However, as it turns out…I was the one who wanted it too much; or rather I should say I expected and wanted to much in general…out of the relationship, out of him. They say that it is better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all. I don’t know if I agree with that. They also say that nothing stings worse than unrequited love. Again, I’d say they are painting the picture too narrowly. It’s not about never having loved; it’s not about not being loved back. For me, the most bitter sting of all lies in the fact that love was gained and expressed, promises were made, and then when it required much, when it demanded true sacrifice and maturity, it was as if none of the love and promises and statements mattered. The knowledge that I can’t shake because it hangs with me like an icy fist around my heart is that I wasn’t worth it. If I linger too long on those words, I can almost start to hyperventilate.

And now he’s here. He’s back. The tears come unbidden behind my eyes when I think about all that was left unsaid between us and all the plans for these two weeks that will never come to fruition. Hell, not just the plans for these two weeks…also for the rest of our lives. It happened like ships passing in the night; I left DFW and he came home. It was a clean break from most perspectives, but in a few short months he will be back and living less than one hour from me. And all I want to say to him is: It’s not fair. It’s not fair what you did and said to me. You made me promises that meant nothing in the end; you made me believe you were a man with intentions and beliefs. You made me believe that we had a real chance at life together because you were willing to sacrifice for me.

And then I just want to ask: Why?

I know my fists and tears and questions and accusations are ineffectual, but I just want to beat on his chest and say those words over and over and over again and just…cry. I haven’t let myself really cry, yet. I know that it’s going to happen sooner or later; but for now, the tears won’t come.

A new favorite song says all that I want to say…

“All the nights we spent just talking of the things we wanted out of life. Making plans and dreams together…I wish I’d seen, I was just too blind. My heart was open, exposed, and hoping for you to lay it on the line. But in the end it seemed there was no room for me…still I tried to change your mind. I guess I wanted you more, and looking back now I’m sure. I wanted you more…….

but

I don’t need you…I don’t need you anymore.”

One Day

One day. One email. One line of text.

No emotion. No hint of what we had. No hint of what we were or who we wanted to be. No acknowledgement to the time we spent and the tears that were shed. Nothing.

It cuts like a knife through the still tender, unhealed flesh of my heart. “Don’t let anyone see you cry, Rachel.” My pride resonates this in my head and heart, stifling my tears unshed behind eyes that smile bravely as though nothing is wrong. Absorb the blow, internalize the pain, shake it off, and smile. That’s what you have to do. I must keep putting one foot in front of the other.

But that’s so hard to do when all I want to do is cry. Cry for the loss. For the lies. For his despicable pride that tore it all apart. For all that might have been but was not. For the defensiveness I now wear as shield. For the distrust that is my constant, initial reaction.

One day all of this will make sense. One day it will all fit clearly into the bigger plan of my life. But today, is just another day, where I can’t wrap my head around why it all turned out how it did. It’s just another day where I struggle through the healing process but am starkly reminded of the truth: I’m still not over you.

 

 

Life Goes On

Robert Frost said it thusly: “In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life. It goes on.”

It is hard to face up to the reality that after nine months of sacrifice, happiness, moments of joy, and moments of heartache–it’s over.

I’ve been struggling to put my feelings into words for over a week now. It’s been difficult. How do you describe what broken trust feels like? How do you properly articulate that bitter disappointment that the life you were building in your head has come tumbling down around your feet? How do you accept that the future family you were planning on being a part of is no more? That mental shift that occurred in my head anticipating the final fulfillment of my biggest dreams and goals in life–marriage and motherhood–has had to be rescinded. That’s so hard to swallow. The idea of it gets caught in my throat…along with all the tears–both shed and unshed.

The final bitter blow is the realization that I wasn’t important enough to him to trump his pride and selfishness. And all the words and promises spoken and written between us ring so very hollow now. What are words when actions fall so short?

But more than all of this is the stifling fear that I am the root problem here. Am I relationally challenged? Is it something about me that causes each of my relationships to end? Maybe I do require too much? Maybe I’ve been with the wrong people at the wrong times because of my loathsome need to be in control instead of letting God work? Perhaps I got off the right track long ago, breaking it off with a perfectly good person because at the time I myself was in a dark place, out of the center of God’s will, and now I’m just so self-deluded that the cycle continues?

I seem to always attract the wrong men at the oddest of times. I don’t know what that says about me or about God’s overarching plan for my life. I know that He is good and that He does good, but I am not good, and I do not do good as I ought to all the time. What is it with me that others seem to be able to find and accept men into their lives and see their desires come true but mine always fall so short? Is it me? I’m always the one doing the ending, but is it really because of a flaw in the other person?

Picking up the pieces and going forward is just part of life. I’m used to doing that.

But trusting myself and my impulses will be very difficult for a while. So yes, life does go on, but not without a price attached to it. Namely for me, self-skepticism and doubt.

Looking for Clarity in Shades of Gray

It’s been quite a while since I wrote anything down here for myself. To tell you the truth, I’ve started to write something about six times, and each time, the inspiration just dies after about five sentences. I have not felt a stirring in my spirit to write in such a long time. Many things have come and gone in my life over the past few weeks and months. I have experienced a spiritual and emotional realignment of sorts. Friendships have been lost; others have been recovered and won. I’ve sat under the weight of hard lessons and been overwhelmed with great love and laughter. God has continued to teach me to trust Him. He’s completing and perfecting that good work in my life–though He has done so not without a fair share of heartache and resistance from my weak nature.

I always write when I’m searching for clarity. Everything seems so murky at the moment. I wish people had told me about the many, raw life decisions that I would have to make as an adult–or perhaps someone told me, and I was too immature and naive to fully comprehend or listen to them. Either way, they are upon me.

Gray is my favorite color; but when life becomes varying shades of gray, it’s hard to tell the truly black from the truly white–which makes things complicated. My life feels very monochromatic at times.

Questions crowd my mind. It feels like recess on the playground right now; my ideas are crowded and loud and insistent, each jockeying for the front of the line for the slide. Impertinent, selfish schoolyard children–thoughts are demanding.

When?

Where?

Why?

What will people think?

Why would I care what they think?

How could they do that to me?

How do I learn to truly forgive?

What does forgiveness look like?

Am I really breaking free from bitterness?

Are my motives pure?

What is God’s will?

How do I place myself in the center of His will?

How do I know His will?

I love this man so much–how can I help?

Is it even okay to be considering a lesser of two evils?

Why is he so far away from me?

What is there to learn through this separation?

Why can’t he be home with me?

The questions cover such a wide variety of topics. None of them have been answered yet. Though, I have found that I’ve been able to feel God’s presence in my life much more actively in recent months than in the past. As He has been working on my heart, I have longed for communion with Him more, which has sweetened my prayer life in such a noticeable way.

And so, I will continue to take these questions to God. I will attempt to quiet my mind and ask God to speak to my heart and provide guidance. I don’t want to rush prematurely in any direction without a clear answer from God, but neither do I want to remain stagnant and paralyzed by my own confusion.

As I have divested my life of unhealthy friendships in 2011, I have experienced a peace from God. But just as I start to soak up this peace, another wave of life comes at me with new trials and worries. I suppose that just confirms what God promised us: “Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

But also, I find comfort knowing this:

“The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.”

“Speak kindly to Jerusalem;
And call out to her, that her warfare has ended,
That her iniquity has been removed,
That she has received of the LORD’S hand
Double for all her sins.”

“From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him.”

And so I trust that God will provide His answer in His timing and until then I must cultivate patience and a long-suffering spirit. I must choose joy and keep my mind focused on the larger picture rather than on my own worries. I have been so blessed that I hesitate to even publish this blog post because I never want to be seen as ungrateful for all that God has given to me. But for me, writing is part of the process by which I work out my salvation with fear and trembling. I speak to God and wrestle with the truths of His word in light of my own fears and struggles; I pen these thoughts and conversations into my blog. And I pray for God to reveal Himself. And I know He will be faithful. It is his very nature to be faithful to me even though I fail continually in faithfulness to Him.

Let’s Walk Down the Road that Has No End

It’s a funny feeling when you take a look at your life around you and realize that you’re arriving upon the close of a chapter. I think of my life as a book, not by any means the most interesting novel that you’ve ever read, but it’s mine; it’s the story of me. It isn’t broken down into many chapters though. My book is one of those with very long chapters–so long that you sometimes get lost in the middle of them because there are too many details crammed into each chapter. But I’m finally reaching the conclusion of this chapter in my life–the one that has included spiritual wandering, rebellion, a distrust of the goodness of God, and then spiritual reaffirmation and revitalization as Jesus tenderly and graciously drew me back to Him. It’s included immaturity, bad decision making, bad relationship choices, philosophical introspection, doubting myself, a fear of commitment, and the devastating effects of my fear of man. Each of these played a pivotal role in shaping my understanding of this season of life and my desperate need for Jesus, for without him I am nothing, I have nothing, and I can accomplish nothing. Coming to that understanding has been the most illuminating of truths. This chapter also walked me through the transition from carefree college student, to full-time working professional and graduate student. With that transition firmly behind me and the close of my graduate education glittering on the horizon, I must stop and take note of where I am today.

I am blessed.

I am grateful.

I am humbled

I am acquiring patience.

I am learning to trust.

I am growing in my faith.

I am more appreciative of grace.

I have found love in a way that I never thought I would. You only have to read prior posts in this blog to see how my faith in love and relationships was tested and tried over the course of the past few years–the years that made up this very tumultuous but profound chapter in my life. I learned to accept  that God sends me what I need for each day and was immeasurably overwhelmed by the arrival of Ryan in my life. The effortless shattering of all my walls and guards was astonishing. I’ve never felt this way before. It’s the most real, raw emotion combined with the most heartfelt peace that I’ve ever experienced. God is so good to me. He’s given me my heart’s desire, in His timing, just as He promised. Oh that I had showed more faith in this along the way.

With school coming to a close, my career uncertain, and my love miles away from me in Iraq it would be easy for this woman, so often a Doubting Thomas, to begin to question and worry and fear. After all, that’s how I dealt with things in the past. For the first time since Kindergarten, I’ll actually have a summer break. For the first time in my life, I can finally cease to count my life in semesters. It’s all so strange to think about turning the page from that chapter, into the one that waits beyond, because I have no idea what this chapter will hold, where it will take me, how it will try me, or what joys it will bring me. At least in the past, I had some idea of what was to come. Not so anymore.

And so the verse that I cling to each day is this: Matthew 6:25-34

25 “For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink ; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing ? 26 “Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they? 27 “And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life ? 28 “And why are you worried about clothing ? Observe how the lilies of the field grow ; they do not toil nor do they spin, 29 yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these. 30 “But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith ! 31 “Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will wear for clothing?’ 32 “For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things ; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. 33 “But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. 34 “So do not worry about tomorrow ; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Experience is a Brutal Teacher…

As the brilliant Uncle Jack said, “Experience is a brutal teacher, but you learn. My God, do you learn.”

And here is what I have begun learning today, for real. Uncle Jack was right.

Love’s not a feeling
Love’s not convenient
But I know love will change your life
Love takes sacrifice
Love cuts like a knife
Sometimes love will make you cry
Love’s not easy
But it’s worth it

Love is a hunger
But love won’t leave you empty
See it’s the language of the heart
Love can steal your pride
But love won’t let you hide
It takes everything you’ve got
Love’s not easy
But it’s worth it

What you gonna do when the bottom falls out
And you’re left with nothing but your fear and your doubt to hold to
Who will hold you?
Where you gonna run when it’s all on the line
And you’re looking for someone to save your life
To save your life

Love can hear you
Love can heal you
If you let it inside
Oh, remember now
Love’s not easy
But it’s worth it.

It’s Okay Not To Be Okay

“Pain, you just have to ride it out, hope it goes away on its own, hope the wound that caused it heals. There are no solutions, no easy answers, you just breath deep and wait for it to subside. Most of the time pain can be managed but sometimes the pain gets you where you least expect it. Hits way below the belt and doesn’t let up. Pain, you just have to fight through, because the truth is you can’t outrun it and life always makes more.”

“Pain comes in all forms. The small twinge, a bit of soreness, the random pain, the normal pains we live with everyday. Then there’s the kind of pain you can’t ignore. A level of pain so great that it blocks out everything else… makes the rest of the world fade away, until all we can think about is how much we hurt. How we manage our pain is up to us. Pain, we anestitize, ride it out, embrace it, ignore it. and for some of us the best way to manage pain is to just push through it.“

“It comes in waves. There’s a lull and then another wave hits you. I just wanted you to know that its okay not to be fine sometimes.”

“I miss him…all the time…I miss him. It’s not waves, it’s constant. All the time.”

– Grey’s Anatomy

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.”

“Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery’s shadow or reflection: the fact that you don’t merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.”

– C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Hope. & A Longing.

When the future gets real tough and silence speaks too much, I’ll reach my hands to you.

And if you feel all alone and hope is dead and gone, I’ll be right there for you.

I’ll be all you need, close your eyes, and just believe.

Love, it can break your heart, but that’s where real love starts. Trust me, I’ll show you.

Life, it can beat you down, but I’ll still be around. There’s nothing I can’t do.

I’ll be all you need, close your eyes, and just believe.

Life is shorter than you think. It can get lost inside a blink. Don’t let it pass you by.

And me, I’ve loved you from the start. You’re the blood that beats my heart.

Search and you’ll find me.

I’ll be all you need, close your eyes, and just believe. — “Close Your Eyes,”  Dave Barnes

Goodbye gets closer every day, every hour, every minute. That’s just the way of things. Like the tide…time rolls endlessly. It’s persistent. It’s immune to our resistance. It’s unrelenting.

I wish it would just happen so that I could stop wondering about it and waiting for it and trying to keep it at bay. Just be done with this goodbye already so that I can feel the pain which I know is imminent and then get started with living life again…apart. It won’t be so very hard, I’m sure. After all, all this time went by beforehand when he wasn’t in my life. Surely, it won’t be too difficult. But…that was before I knew what life with him could be like. And that’s the longing part.

There’s always hope. Hope buoyed up by faith that all happenings and situations in my life are instruments wielded by my gracious and sovereign God’s hands for His glory and my ultimate good.

And yet, there’s longing, too. Longing for everything to be settled. Longing for a life with him. Longing for that part of life to start.

And the thing that holds it all in flux is time.

It’s All About Balance…For Now

They say that good things take time. But can’t really great things happen in the blink of an eye?

So something interesting has happened. My world has kind of been shaken up a little bit. I feel as though I’ve done a little bit of  tumbling over on my head. Kind of as though I’m caught up in this snowball effect speeding down a hill..and I don’t know what’s at the bottom. And, surprisingly, I don’t care. That’s kind of scary and liberating at the same time.

This incredible, unexpected, totally random surprise from my past…my long, long ago past…has just re-entered the scene. It’s been something like 12 years. Who would have thought? How insane? And so, what to do except see where it takes you? You can’t just let people and situations like this leave your life without at least trying them out. People enter your life for a reason. I have to figured out what this reason is…and soon…because it has me thinking lots of different things. I’ve started to let myself think about how the situation is “so good, so normal, so natural, so effortless.” I’m never like this. I’m never all-in despite the costs. To hell with the costs is almost what my heart is saying…almost but not quite. Because the truth of the matter is that one part of the situation is actually very complicated. It’s like I’m caught up in a lot of bright red tape, hemming me in. And I need to be hemmed in at this point. I don’t really have the ability to do what I want just yet, so patience and reason must have some place in all of this. There are rules. There are boundaries. I can’t cross them all just yet.

As the song says, “I’ve got a firm grip on reality…but I can’t let go of what’s in front of me here.” Something inside of me is compelling me to keep putting one foot in front of the other– to see what is there.

I talk a lot about time. I write about trusting God, wrestling with God, submitting to God’s will, and battling my own desire to control my destiny. I’m a firm believer in the value of time to prove validity, authenticity, and the stability of a foundation. Time allows for the manifestation of really understanding how people work, what they think, what they want you to think they think, and who they really are behind all the masks and facades that people put on daily to the regular world in which we move and live.

So that’s what I’m giving myself. Time. I’ve burned myself so many times by allowing myself to be forced into situations, hoping that my heart will “learn” to appreciate it, learn to care, and acclimate to the new person, relationship, or situation. I’ve also felt the sting that accompanies throwing myself headfirst into a whirlwind sea of emotions that tell me “this feels so good” or “this is so romantic.” That can’t be how I continue moving forward in life. The whole reason we go through things in life is to learn from our past failures and successes and take those lessons with us into new experiences. It’s all about forward progress–until we finally get something right.

So many different things going on in my head right now. I’m typically not into complicated. I kind of avoid things that make me go out of my way. I like things to be in clearly defined boxes with all the different pieces laid out neatly. But life isn’t like that. As I’ve been learning daily for the last two years (as you can tell from my blog), life is so messy. And right now, I kind of like messy. Complicated is appealing to me. And not in the whole, “I’m going to salvage this situation. I can fix this. This is a good project for me to tackle” but rather in a kind of “I don’t even know what’s going on…and that’s okay” kind of way. Because you can’t ignore or avoid situations that fall into your lap. Something is there to be learned from the relationship and the moment. It’s all a part of the process. I have to trust that by entering into the process fully, and not shirking or avoiding it because I’m afraid of the risk involved, that God can and will show me something profound about myself, about life, about relationships, about Himself, about friendship, about human nature and our need for grace and mercy, and maybe even about something else. Who knows? Do I have any expectations? Not really. I just want to see where it all takes me.

It’s a fine, delicate balance. Some might call it precarious. Reaching out just enough to see the opportunity, while not falling in headfirst without preparation, prayer, or thought. But then again, as I continue to learn and believe, life is all about finding the perfect balance. So that’s where I am today.