A Story…

It has been a long time since I’ve written anything personal. A long time since I’ve written anything that seems true to my inside self. Real pain, real happiness, real confusion. We all have something to write about. Even those that don’t think they are “any good at writing”. We ALL have something to write about.

Now, you probably don’t know me. If you do, I can honestly say you either “knew me before” or you “don’t know me very well”… seeing as I haven’t been truly close to anyone since my high school years. Knowing that you don’t know me, it is very easy for me to also assume that you couldn’t care much less then you do now about my feelings, desires, hopes, dreams, fears & deepest thoughts. Yes, very easy for me to assume that. I could be wrong I suppose. If I felt like being optimistic I could choose to assume that you DO care.  I could assume that for whatever reason you started reading this, and are still reading this, simply because you want to know what I will say next. That is the point of reading other people’s blogs, is it not?

Well then… based on this assumption I’ve forced upon my mind that you may in fact care, I’ll tell you a story. A story I have been holding inside for a long time. You may be able to relate to this story, or perhaps you may not understand it at all.

A story that is true, though I wish it weren’t. Here is a story…

I have a fear. This fear that I have seems to consume me from time to time. It makes my heart hurt. It causes my stomach to get all tied in painful knots. It squeezes my brain until I’m sure my ears might bleed. Sometimes, this fear turns me into a little kid again. I’m a kid again and all I want to do is crawl into the corner of my closet with a blanket over my head and cry. Cry until my body dries up. Cry until no sound comes out. Cry like no one will ever hear me no matter how hard I wail.

What is this fear? Good question. I’m not quite sure how to put it into words. I know that the most repeated phrase in the entire Bible is “fear not” or another derivative of the same command. It should be “just that easy” shouldn’t it? To just “have faith” and “fear not”? If we truly believe that there is an Almighty Being out there beyond our universe that loves us enough to die for us… what have we to fear? Right? Perhaps that is why this fear so so all-consuming. Perhaps knowing I shouldn’t fear anything…at all… ever…. is what is so painful? I’m not quite sure. What I do know, I believe.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. -Jeremiah 29:11

His plans are for our ultimate happiness. Though we can’t always see it. This is a truth I believe. So why do I fear? I fear because I know that our past can often determine our future as well. There are many accounts in the Bible of poor decisions being allowed to bring about poor consequences. God isn’t the type to watch us suffer with a smile on His face, but He also has to let us reap the rewards of our own decisions. If He is to truly give us freedom of choice, we can’t always be saved from bad choices. If He always saved us from whatever it is we decide to do that may have a bad outcome, when would we EVER learn to do something different? Right? Hmm…

So… my fear? I am terrified that I don’t have the ability to love. Please don’t laugh… although it may seem funny to some I suppose. Given the description I’ve shown of how this fear affects me. It is a legitimate fear though, is it not? To love is to know God… because God is Love. The Bible clearly tells us that if we do NOT love, then it is because we do not know God.

Now… I can say “I love cherries”… because… they taste good and I thoroughly enjoy eating way too many of them. So, society tells me that the proper way to describe my relationship to cherries is “love”. I want to note here that there is a difference between “loving” and “being in love”. Because, when I think “I love my family”… I can say that statement is true. I DO love my family. What does that mean though? Would I do anything for them? Yes. Would I lay down my life to save one of them from losing theirs? Yes. Yes, I would. Do I hurt when they are truly hurting? Yes, I do. Alright then… I take it back. I am capable of love. But…. as stated earlier, there is a difference between “loving” and “being in love”.

I know that I have never been “in love”. Which confuses me. So many people have. I’m not talking about sweaty palms, butterflies in the stomach, stupid choices made in the back seat at the drive in when you’re 17. That is what Hollywood calls “falling in love”. I don’t believe in “falling” into anything. When you use the word “falling” to describe ANY other circumstance it is always painful, dangerous & unintentional. Why would using the word when describing love be any different? I’m talking about really being in love. “Stepping into love” I guess would be the alternate way of saying it. Knowing that the person you are in love with will always be there, and though it may get rough at times you will pull through together because you couldn’t imagine life without the other. I know that no relationship will be without it’s tests, trials, ups, downs, good times & bad times. I’m not looking for a shining knight on a white horse that will sweep me off my feet and sing ridiculously sappy songs while we gallop into the sunset. But whatever being “in love” means… I can’t find it. It is hiding somewhere in the deep recesses of my soul. I believe that “hiding” is the best way to describe it. Because I know how much I want to be able to love someone in the way that marriage requires…. I want it so badly that I convince myself it’s there. I believe it until I can’t deny the truth any longer and have to make choices that rip my heart open all over again.

Is it fear of commitment? Is that how some psychoanalyst would describe my past relationship failures? If so, then they would have to explain to me how someone can want to be forever committed and yet run away from it each time it is presented to them! Or, perhaps, some would say that it is simply because I haven’t met “the one”. The one that God intends for me to marry. The one that is my match and compliment. The one that I can see myself with forever and not shrink at the concept. Still others might decide that I am indeed incapable of being in love. Incapable of loving in a way that can stand a forever type of commitment and with therefore have to get a dog and call it good.

I love dogs…. I suppose I can be ok with that….

Wrong. I am not ok with that. So let’s hope that I just haven’t met “him”. Can we assume that? Let’s just assume that and I’ll come out of the corner of my closet and dry my eyes.

I never would have thought that I’d get to an age where the prospect of being alone for the rest of my life would sound horribly unbearable… but it does.

It really does.

Since it isn’t a thought I can live with and accept… I am going to make a decision. I choose today to let God lead. I’ve made this choice many times… and apparently have to keep handing it over, because I keep taking it back. I will let God choose my mate. I haven’t made the best choices in the past, and have misunderstood what I thought was God’s leading due to my eagerness to fill the void in my heart. Although, I used to believe that if there is indeed a hole in your heart… it is a Christ shaped hole. Nothing else will EVER fill it. I need to remind myself of that and keep my focus on the only one that matters. The moment we take our eyes off of Jesus and try to decide for ourselves what the next step is… THAT is when we stumble and fall. I’m tired of falling, but I know it won’t be the last time. I just need to pick myself up, dust myself off, and center my focus back on the real man I should be in love with. If, by chance, I am incapable of being in love… there is only One who could fix a character defect like that. So why not spend some time with Him and see what He does with me?