Skip to main content

The thin glass line

   There's a small thin line between can't and won't. One may say, "I can't run a 5k." And, another may say, "I won't run a 5k." I do believe that without proper context that line gets glass thin.
    Here is one thing I won't do again: put myself in a situation to be duped. Again. I consider myself to be a pretty strong person, but I do have moments, when my heart breaks that my strength seeps away. Then I feel as weak as an infant.
    I sometimes wonder what it is the majority of people ask of each other. I would venture to say that it would be love and acceptance. It is so easy to look around and see such a lack of this in our world. But, when we bring our world down to those we are close and intimate with, the question is the same: will you love me; will you accept me?
    And since we do, on such a daily basis seek out those who can answer this question in the way we desire, we have to see if that thin line exists. Their answer can either be..."I can't. Or, I won't." The hardest part is in the waiting. Because as much as we desire to be loved and accepted, someone has to do the love and accepting.
    God. God does it. No matter who we ask on this earth to love and accept us. The one person we don't have to ask is the one who is constantly asking us. I went to a retreat today, and the question that stood out to me in the list of questions to reflect on was this: "Am I willing to give up everything to God? What will it cost me." Rich Mullins said this, "And never assume that if it cost Him his very life, that it won't also cost you yours."
    There is a precipice that I have been standing on. I feel my toes hanging over the edge, causing my balance to teeter. I fear the unknown. I fear, that when I do come to the place where I can step off, I will crash. I fear the fallout. But, if I never step off the edge the impending fallout will only haunt me.
     Here is one thing I won't do again: be duped. I have such a small understanding at this moment what it must feel like to have God say, "You enjoyed me. You loved me. You accepted me. Then you decided to see what else was waiting for you, perhaps knowing that this was what I had planned for you. But, come to me and I will love you again." However, there is a difference between me and God. While He is patient and willing to be duped by us over and over...I am not.
    As I sat in contemplation today, I looked to my right and began to cry. Because, I saw what it may cost me. And...I am not quite sure if I am willing to lose it again.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Tiger must stay in your backpack...

   I'm not that parent. The one who gloats too much, and shows off all the pictures. The parent who relays every detail of their kid to let others know how incredible I think they are. Perhaps it is a flaw. Who knows. And I also pride myself in not being a helicopter parent. I teach and let go. I discipline and let go.    And I thought I would be ready for this: first day of Pre-K. I have been very positive and uplifting and have wanted my son to be extra ready to go to school. We have talked about it for months! I am ready... Or so I thought.  This morning, as white boy was leaving to take them to daycare, he said to Owen, "You can't take Tiger to school tomorrow or he will have to stay in your backpack, so do you want to take him to daycare today?" I thought little of it, but as Owen threw him down on the ground and turned to head out the door, my throat hitched. "Are you sure you don't want to take him today?" He said no. It was a sense of finality.  ...

A goodbye love letter to you...

  I sat across from my dad at lunch, yesterday, and asked him, "Do you know what tomorrow is?" He said, "Yeah. 1 year." And his eyes grew damp. "I'll never forget walking into that room..." He didn't continue. I didn't ask him to. "I'll never forget the police officer banging on my door at 1130 at night..." I didn't continue. He didn't ask me to.  "This journal was given to me several years ago by my children. I know they wanted me to write down my thoughts to get through the rough times I was going through at the time. I did not start this at that time. Why am I starting it now? Well, I only thought I had been through hell back then, but now I realize I didn't have any idea what heartache was until Aug 15, 2010 -"   This is the beginning of one of my mother's journals. A journal she started a little over a month after Andy died. And she wrote it--to him.  "Dear Mother - Today is the day before Mothe...

Arithmetic of Purpose

   By nature, humans will, at one point in their life, ask the question, "For what purpose? Why am I here? What am I meant to do?" Okay, maybe they will ask themselves more than 1 question...but at least around the same theme. "Who am I, and why am I here?" It is built in our very DNA. Growing up, I didn't ask this often. I had a loving family who went with the current. Who I was and why I was here was bound up in my place in my family of 4. I was comfy. I was loved. I was secure. But alas...the question presented itself.   I first asked myself this question walking down the streets of Rome. I was alone, I was 21, and I was lost. I had just finished AmeriCorps and felt like I wanted something, but wasn't sure what that was. I had found my faith, at last, and realized that perhaps I wanted to be a bigger part of the Church collective. I felt meaning to my nothingness. I went home with direction. I graduated from college, finally, and started grad school to be...