Where You Are

My most sincere moments of clarity always come when least expected. For one clear, shining moment, I can see the truth that has evaded me for so long and I am completely at ease with the unfiltered view before me.

Today is the first day of fall. Today is a beautiful day just like last year, which feels like yesterday. Today I sat in the middle of a field and cried in the sunshine. Today I had the opportunity to choose, the same as any other day.

Every day is a new day, yet I hopelessly cling to the days before, usually in punishment. I tell myself that there's no point in turning around now because I've already come so far and screwed up so bad. I look in the mirror and don't forget who I see when I turn away; she haunts every succeeding step.

I cannot remember who I was twelve months ago. I cannot remember where she came from or her motivations for anything she did.

I am on the edge of falling flat on my face. I feel as if I am sitting on a very thin line that is supporting my entire weight. If I stay above the line, I am safe; if I dip below, I will crash and burn.

I don't know where this is leading or why I suddenly needed to get it out or why I sound so emo lately. But I don't know how else to express myself. Words fail me. Yet, somehow, my fingers magically transform the beating of my heart into rhythms of voice that are comprehensible on a page.

I don't know what you want from me, Lord.


So Close, and Yet So Very Far

This isn't quite it, but it's almost the truck from my dream last night. In it (the dream, not the truck), God laid waste some of my biggest, most secret hopes, but also gave me the closure I've been longing for. How often do you get to say goodbye to someone and have them say it back without the repercussions of them remembering the time spent together? It was beautiful and heartbreaking, left me waking with real tears, but was exactly what I needed.

Today I got incredibly sunburned; it was so worth it. Lounging in the sun on a blanket doing homework, I remembered a day almost exactly a year before when I felt exactly the same, and, somewhere in the cavernous recesses of my heart, I knew that things were going to be just fine. Taking in the glow of the September afternoon, the world was suddenly transformed into something beautiful again.

Tomorrow I will probably awake to less peace than I feel right now, but that is okay. I will be able to look back on this entry and know that, at least for a second, my heart was happy to simply rest in God and trust that He knows what He's doing.

I feel as though I am dishonouring memories when I let go and the pain gets easier and easier to handle, but I am finally starting to realize that life must go on, or it will run along without me and I will be left with nothing. So bring on tomorrow, with all its pain and tears and mysteries and excitement. I'm ready. I don't know why and I don't know how I got here, all I know is this: I love God, He loves me, and in this moment that is all that matters in the world.


Burning Up...and Out

This past weekend was Rockridge Round Two. I met new people, hung out with a new set of bathroommates, and, thankfully, was in a general state of "just okay" because I didn't have a hundred million memories hanging over my head the way that I do when I walk the paths of this haunted campus. God touched me in a way that I've never felt before; He was finally able to obliterate the wall I had set up between Him and my heart for supposed safety, and was able to show me that the greatest safety is in the comfort of His arms. I gave up a lot to Him, and I threw away all of my excuses, now rendered useless by absolute Truth, for why I should not be the woman He created me to be.

Sometimes it still hurts. My own Great Sadness still trickles out of the past and muddies my vision with its lies and "what-could-have-been"s. My focus used to be on the past, then shuffled to the future to ease the heartache, and is now desperately clinging to the edges of the present in the hopes of finding peace. But peace never came from holding on; it's in the letting go that God can bring peace to my heart.

Facebook never fails to give me a good slap, Skype brings the futile desperation of holding back tears, and my uncracked window reminds me of days that will never come. Sometimes I think I hold on so that I have something to draw from in moments when I need to feel human or want to express myself through writing, but other times I think it is simply because if I really do let go and let God come in and completely heal my heart (not just bandage or stitch it up, but actually heal), then I won't have the Sadness to cling to. Without the sadness, am I really even Me anymore?

This year will be a good year. There are wonderful people, fantastic classes and the hope of a possible future at this school beyond the next several months. I know, in my head, if I let go of last year that this year has the potential to be just as good, if not better, but my heart can't quite grasp that yet. I'm getting there, though.

I've finally realized that sometimes you lose the good things in life to make room for the great things.


Splat (aka The First Day of School)

Today is the first day of school. I didn't have classes, but that doesn't stop my former statement from being true.

Life here is not the same. Was I naive enough to expect that it could be? For sure. I just saw two people I haven't seen in at least 5 months and, it, too, was not what I thought it would be. There are some people that even time and a healing heart cannot replace.

Tomorrow I start classes and life goes back to "normal." I have homework, find a job, somehow squeeze in church, and what is supposedly normal returns to my life. If only I could somehow let go of how much last year meant to me. My relationship with God crashed, burned, and was built up again stronger than ever; I met some of the best friends I could ever hope to find; I found love that didn't demand more of me than I could offer and I lost it; I finally found the person I've been searching for all my life...myself.

And here I am. On the brink of a new cliff, trying to decide whether or not to jump. Only the next few weeks will tell. Do I stand around waiting on a parachute that will never come, or do I just take the leap and pray I don't SPLAT my body on the rocks?