Friday, October 29, 2010

Part 2: Confrontations with life

(If you haven't read the beginning. Here is the link of a post I made in September)

In an instant, my perspective changed and as I looked around my room I saw the place I had felt so safe in before be a place that was anything but. The music stirred up repulsive ideas in my head that were constantly being played on repeat. The clothes on the floor were dancing around pathetically, the same ones that I worked so hard for and took extra shifts just so I could fit in with the groups in school. And the photos lay scattered on the floor, pictures of boys, memories of hurt, of pressure, and of violation. I saw the worst before me and hated every part of it. It was almost like a break up, where all I felt like doing was ripping up my wasted time. The pleasure I would get if I could only tear away at the pages of my adolescence, and then burn up any left remains.

Instead, I packed slowly, going through each regret and by the time I finished, my heart was ready but my mouth stayed shut. I knew that the clock was ticking inside of my suitcase but I just couldn't make out the words and silence never gave me a good opportunity to speak. It seemed like it was never the right time or the right moment, so I kept my mouth shut until the day the phone rang. I knew that the voice on the other end was about open up my can of worms and actually, I was glad it wouldn't be me. I was better off, safer even, in the horrors of my thoughts.

I listened to the muffled voices and then the click of the receiver. I heard every creak in the steps as my mother walked up the stairs. And for the first time ever I was more scared then I have ever been. I was up against myself and my pride. Because actually, perfection, was something I tried hard to be. I had to, perfection was the only thing my parents could accept at this time. But the walls were about to come down when that door would open, and I would have to come face to face with disappointment.

The handle turned, just as predicted and the lion broke loose in the room. It was gnawing at me, chewing on every piece of disbelief and then spitting it back at me. Without intention, I froze like a prey anticipating its defeat. Wondering when the time of death would strike me. Sooner was better. Silence was better. A sad face was better, better for the heart I heard. And as I sat there on my bed, strangled by fear, I realized something in between my mother's words.

Perfection was not mine to have, it was grace. Perfection was not made for me, completion was. And I was not made to meet human expectations but fall short of them. I was made for grace. For mercy. For selflessness. So, right there in the middle of the battle I experienced a failure that was accepted without blame.

From that moment on a new strength was born. I decided that even though I was in a bit of a human heap I did not want my circumstances to push me down. Rejection seemed only temporary because I believed that the truth always had a way of coming out. That right had a way of being rewarded, and that purpose had a way of fulfilling promise. I realize now, that it was the security that saved me. It would need to, and soon, because my plane was about to land with a whole new set of problems.

I was told that in my culture women are regarded as women of influence. They are the ones who establish the rules for the weaker, sexual male who thinks about it a million times a day. We had responsibilities to keep. Pressure to concur and sexual drive to hold under control. So, to say the least, I had a whole lot of blame coming my way that was about to challenge just what I believed myself to be.

As expected, it was hurtful and I can still remember the comments that tore me to shreds. The eyes that looked me straight in the face and told me that I was undeserving. The conversations of misunderstanding that followed moments of complete abandonment. It was in those kind of moments that I could almost feel the grip of God holding me back, when everything in my body wanted to attack right back.

This needed to happen no matter how much I would have loved to ignore it. But family was important to us. Marriage was important to us and we wanted to convey God's dedication to us, by dedicating ourselves to each other. His love and His promises, meant something significant to us as we promised to be there for one another. And then when things would get tough we would know just how to forgive time and time again, because we had been forgiven. Because in the end, it would be our relationship with Him that would show us how to have a relationship with each other.

Relying completely on God, we got married the sixth of October. Just a few days after I had turned 18. I wore a simple dress together with my prom shoes. Which in turn, reminded me so much of the past summer where my biggest problem had been my best friends crush on me. Remembering my past relationships, I hoped that the man I just married was the one I truly loved. And then, as I swayed to the rhythm of the day, in the perfect crisp air of autumn I liked the comfort I had in relying on my husbands magic. He was the one that believed in love at first sight, in soul mates, and miracles. His love for me, together with God's grace, seemed promising in comparison to anything else.

Lord, Please. Please I prayed, hold us together on the path that you have set before us. Help us be stronger and more fierce than what the world offers or what the enemy will hold in his hands. May we always rise above the influence and no longer fall into temptation. Instead, during our faithful walk would you bring wisdom and understanding to our actions and persistence in our minds. Help us always fight the fight for what is right.

I felt peaceful at last, almost like everything was in its place for the first time in months.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Thanksgiving came early

Fall is here and I just couldn't resist putting up my little pumpkins as part of my table setting for our dinner guests. We were having Caesar Salad with Genius's Wraps. They continue to be a favorite of mine and I was excited to make them, to eat them, and to be thankful for them.

To be thankful, really thankful came to me in the form of small blessings. Simple things that came in just the right time were personal to me and as I sat at my window last week I looked down at my plate a little differently. God had a way of providing, a plan of provision, and a promise of shelter and food. Always. Sitting there, I was completely thankful for what was given to me and I think for the first time I was sincere about it. Humbled in a sense that he will always share with me.

The words were easy. Share what you have with God's people who are in need. Be hospitable. (Romans 12:13) This was the memory verse for the kids this week at our church. And after I sent them off to school, I stood in my kitchen smiling. I knew that sharing with me was God's desire, and it was only by knowing what he does for me that I can delight in doing it for others.

So today, setting it up for our guests brought delight in my heart. It was nice to have our friends over. To catch up, see where God is working, and be involved in their life continues to be a blessing. It was nice knowing that even before thanksgiving this year I was thankful in my heart. Thankful, for the people in our lives and the food on the table.

Smiling, hope. Thankful, hope. Humbled, hope.

Monday, October 11, 2010

Barbie and the 3 Musketeers

Jenny is my only girl. She is the middle child between two boys. She is very much girlish as she is tom-boyish. So the Barbie Musketeer movie became an instant hit with her. For a whole year she planned her birthday. She that knew she wanted a sleepover, to have a Musketeer cake, and to battle with swords. What she didn't plan on was winning a coloring contest at a local mall, for the grand prize of 12 tickets to the carousel. So with the final detail checked off, the anticipation began to build up in her. Until finally her birthday came.

The carousel was surreal in the evening. The horses bounced around almost freely, expressing themselves in the rhythm of lights. The girls were their masters and they enjoyed the security in that. To be wanted, to be loved, to be needed was something special to the painted horses. And even though they stood prepared for hours until they were chosen, the laughter was always worth it.

The musketeers fled into the night. With only the sword on their backs to protect them. They fought off the boys who laughed in their faces, made fun of their names, and said they were weaklings. They showed them who's boss. They proved them all wrong. Because that's what Musketeers do!

But as all fairy tales go, they each have their end. With a yawn and a stretch, a smile and a sigh we put our little princesses to bed. They were done for the day. They each needed some rest. From the magical land called "Birthdays". So they pulled up their blankets, fluffed up the pillows and dreamed up more dreams for their own special, birthday party.

Into the night, hope.

Friday, October 1, 2010

September Winner

Thank you for all of your amazing comments once again. Many of the compliments were nice to hear but I was looking for something deeper. More about you, my viewers and your walk through life. Although being open, tends to be hard over the internet I was taken a back by this particular message.

The winner this month is this anonymous girl. Thank you for opening your self up and then, for sharing it.

Anonymous Girl.

I truly need rest from hanging on to things, emotional things, heartaches, loss, failure, resentment, sadness, and being able to finally forgive and let go. Here's a poem that I have had for a while, I am not sure who it is written by but it is very simply put. I have realized that to achieve rest I have to start letting go step by step. That it takes time and that it could only be done with the helping hand of god.

To let go,
doesn't mean to stop caring;
it means I can't do it for someone else.

To let go
is not to cut myself off;
it's the realization that I can't control another.

To let go
is not to enable,
but to allow learning from natural consequences.

To let go
is to admit powerlessness,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.

To let go
is not to try to change or blame another;
I can change only myself.

To let go
is not to care for,
but to care about.

To let go
is not to fix,
but to be supportive.

To let go
is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.

To let go
is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their own outcomes.

To let go
is not to be protective;
it is to permit another to face reality.

To let go

is not to deny,
but to accept.

To let go
is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and to cherish the moment.

To let go
is not to nag, scold, or argue,
but to search out my own shortcomings and to correct them.

To let go
is not to criticize and regulate anyone,
but to try to become what I dream I can be.

To let go
is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.

To let go
is to fear less and love more.

These are no instructions on how to let go...but it is a start, hope.