It Shouldn't Be That Hard

Life is interesting. Sometimes you have to dig in, get your hands dirty, not give up and fight to get what you want, or what you need. Whether it be school, or fighting a weight battle, or not throwing a shoe at your mother. Sometimes things are HARD to do.

These things beg the question though, there are some good things that are hard and some other things that seem to be hard when they shouldn't be, so when is it too hard?

Have you ever dated someone and it seemed hard to not break up on a monthly basis? There is always some fight, or some issue that keeps you on the edge of your seat, wondering if this is right. He doesn't call you when he says he will. She expects you to always be around. You have to fight for attention from him, she is just annoying as hell.

The drama keeps you in, wondering if your the problem. It's like fighting an uphill battle to make this thing WORK. It's effort and time and tears and thought and talking it out with everyone you know, or talking the other person down. We constantly think the problems are individuals, but rarely do we stop and think, "He/She not the problem, this situation is."

Similar outcomes when you fight for something you aren't supposed to be doing. God has this interesting way of making what we ARE supposed to do easy (at least in making the decision and moving forward). It's like there is this force propelling you in a direction, but you don't know it's there until you step into it. The opposite happens when you are going in a direction that seems to be against that same force. Like fighting in a wind tunnel.

You can't get that job you want, you can't find a place to live. Every college turns you down but one, or everything you try in one area fails. It's an exercise in futility and you feel it, but you don't want to admit it. To admit it means loss of something. Be it a dream, a desire, a goal a direction, or even in the case of dating, a relationship.

On the flip side, when He gets a chunk of your vision, you step out and get swept away in His direction, all of the sudden it's too easy. You got the job immediately, you found the place of your dreams, the scholarships are awarded, you find someone that seems to speak the language you have always spoken, and no one has ever understood.

That's not to say it always stays easy. School and jobs take work and application, relationships take time and patience. Hearts are broken somehow in what is right no matter what. But the initial creation of that object didn't look like it did before, it actually happened. It wasn't a battle to CREATE something from nothing, but instead to allow God to create the opportunities, and you just take them.

How does this all relate? Well, it goes back to the initial question. When is it too hard?

As I have grown in my relationship with my boyfriend, one of the things I have had the hardest time with has been trust. Release. Letting go. That's not to say the relationship isn't right, actually, it pretty much means it is. I have to fight against the things that would keep me separate not only from him, but from Jesus as well. It's a refining issue. Not the less though, control seems to be my issue.

Protecting myself from the opportunity of loss and hearbreak is my ultimate goal. So here's the issue: as I battle this, submission to the decisions I have asked God to make for me in my life, such as what is best for me, takes on a whole new light.

Hold on, I'm bringing it around. If He makes decisions for me, and I fight against them, for whatever reason, I am back in the wind tunnel. I'm fighting uphill for something I wouldn't want anyways and when I realize that, the control is easy to let go of. "Oh, that isn't something I have to control, that's YOUR doing... oh, I get it."

The hardest part is learning when I am battling against Him verses myself. And here comes the crux: when it's too hard, it's most likely not Him.

I have a knack for fighting for relationships, specifically, that I am not supposed to have. Case in point: a marriage. Being divorced is like a branding that reminds you: "Don't fight too hard for something that you shouldn't have." It shouldn't have been as hard as it was to MAKE him love me. I shouldn't have had to give up pieces of me to adapt to him in hopes of gaining and keeping his love and affection. But love, and specifically youth, are stupid, so well, lessoned learned. I guess...

That of course bleeds into many other relationships and learning when it is right. When my boyfriend began to love me, it was so easy. He was there, consistent, honest, caring. Not because I MADE him be those ways, but because it was natural for him as well. We had a connection, a kismit that I can only attribute to puzzle pieces that fit when they are right. He wanted to be around, I wanted him around. Simple as that.

The same, I am learning, goes for others as well. It isn't about making people love me and validating myself through that. Instead, it may just be about who fits where. Allowing God to shed what isn't supposed to be there, and take away what feels like being a square peg in a round system, feels at times like a loss, but never is.

He is a God of redemption, love and grace. What He does, He does for my best. Submission doesn't look like always bending myself to the breaking point, but instead letting Him make the decisions, then letting go when He does.

It shouldn't be so hard. It shouldn't be so hard to be loved, to be understood, to understand and to love. If He created me, than He created others and somewhere, there are fits. It's not always my fault and I don't always have to fix it. Sometimes, things look broken because they are broken. And that's okay, sometimes He breaks them.

We have already established I don't always make the best decisions when it comes to relationships, so fighting for ones that aren't best for me seems a little less like "being loving" and a lot more like "being stubborn and stupid." Banging my head against a wall gets old.

In light of these recent realizations, my prayer remains simple "Lord, teach me when it shouldn't be that hard."

Dangerous Engagements

I hate surprises. I have always hated surprises. I hate surprise parties, I hate finding out "good news" I hate present. Sad, I know. I start to have anxiety about a week before my birthday. Christmas is torture and opening presents gives me stomach cramps. Needless to say, life as a child was never that fun.

I've been thinking about that a lot lately. My boyfriend and I have been talking about getting married a lot and engagement rings and all of that wonderful stuff. You'd think I would love talking about it. I'm a girl, I should be looking forward to being proposed to, to the suspense of when and where.

Yeah, not so much. I pretty much have been hounding him hoping I will find out details on accident to put it together so I can mentally prepare. Sometimes I wonder why that man loves me...

The thought of not being able to control the outcome, the worries about the "what if's" the preparation of getting all of that ready, of worrying about whether he is ready and I am ready and whether or not it will be a surprise and whether or not it will be when I want it, or when I don't want it... worrying about if I will be so surprised that I won't cry, or that I will, or that it won't go the way he planned and he will be upset. I just freak out worrying about all of it... and I know I shouldn't. I know it shouldn't matter. But it does, and I can't make the thoughts and the worries disappear overnight.

Like presents and surprises, when you don't control them, when you don't have a plan, when you don't know what is going to happen, you run the risk of allowing them to blow up in your face. Or to be disappointed, or to be revealed as a fool. Surprises don't turn out well for me. They never have.

So this beautiful Saturday morning, I woke up to sun and cool temperatures. With everything I have been struggling with lately, I wanted to start the day with praise. A day dedicated to knowing His love for me and resting in it.

One of the first songs that came on was about Him being salvation and the true hope and trust. My favorite part is when the singer asks "let be not ashamed, no one who waits on the Lord, will ever be put to shame.... You are, you are my hope, you are, you are my song, you are, you are my song, you are, you are my light, you are, you are my salvation..." All of my hopes in You.

If I can take all of my hope, all of my trust, all of my strength, my everything... my expectations... everything, if I can put them in Him, He promises to not fail me. Somehow, somehow He promises not to fail me and not to put me to shame.

I know there are times of what looks like shame and hurt, but if I hope in Him, He promises not to disappoint, no matter how long it takes to see the redemption.

I have lived 3,000 miles away from my family for a year and a half; I lived in Paris for two months with not a soul I knew, completely on my own; I started a job I feel completely inadequate for. They say these things take courage. Not really. What takes the most courage? Trusting the Lord not to put me to shame. Not to let the next surprise around the corner, that I couldn't prepare for even if I wanted to, bring me hurt or loss.

It takes more courage to wake up on a beautiful Saturday morning, get on my knees and offer my day to someone I can't control. To offer my life to someone that promises no ease and comfort or even His presence in every minute of everyday. What He promises is His character. His record, His heart. He promises that every move He makes, every thought He has, every hard thing, every good thing... all of them are meant to love me. To bring me closer to Him, to romance me into greater love.

It's easy to trust when you are happy in life. When it seems to be going your way and you love everything about it. Now, now it's about learning to trust Him when it hurts. When I feel ashamed. I have to trust that's not true, but there are season's for everything and this is mine. I have to trust Him that He knows my heart better than I do. Then I have to sing. I have to get off my knees and sing. I need to raise my voice and tell Him I trust Him.

And then, after I have dusted off my knees, raised my voice and sang out... I have to start walking. Walking towards believing Him every time I step out my door. Every time I meet someone new, every time I talk to my boyfriend about getting married, I have to let him have the reins and trust the man God has given me to love me the way God has asked him to.

The more I live my life and the more I encounter the amazing and the hurtful, there is a controlled chaos about them that I have never really been able to understand. And I don't know if I want to kill it now by trying to figure it all out.

Oh sweet Jesus. Please have patience with me. I am weak in my fears and I need You to rescue me from them. You know my heart better than I do, but I don't want to kill everything around me in my need to understand, to not fear. I place all of my hope, my strength, my songs, all my hope, my trust, my salvation, my needs, my expectations, my fears. Take them and bend them to You. Let them resemble You, not a life that has hurt me. Deliver me from my enemy. I trust You.

And I wait...

There are so many things that come in and out of my mind. Thoughts that flit in and out like they were prophecies I had once held dear. I keep staring at my walls, praying, if I look hard enough, if I think hard enough, if I fight hard enough, the peace, the hope, the redemption I felt a year ago will circle back around and will lift me from my morose state of mind.

Instead, I look into the mirror and let the shapes of my face take me into a deep place of morbid frustration.

Loss never seems too far. I seem to be my most unlucky charm, following me where ever I go. I remember sitting at a table a year and a half ago with friends I thought were family knowing deep in my heart, this change would change everything. I knew it would end. I knew the love I was feeling was fleeting. So I held on, I help tight and I spoke love and did everything I could to love the best I could in the moment, communicating everything I could, hoping, praying, fighting to stave off the loss I knew was coming. And it came. It came the way I knew it would... killing the last bit of comfort and hope I knew.

So now, here I sit, more than a year later, with what looks like the world in front of me and all I can wish for is a past that was never as good as it is in dreams. But good luck telling my heart that.

Instead, I feel a loss akin to a piece of myself gone, circling the drain and I wonder, I wonder what I would pay to get it back.

And isn't that the greatest tragedy of all? The knowledge that I would pay my soul for love that is so less than? Love that is half as good as what is in my head. And if it's in my head.... it has to be possible, right?

How many times have I sold my soul for less? I thought it ended with a divorce. I left that part behind. Never again. No fomance (misspelling intentional) would capture me. And it hasn't. Accept in every other aspect. Why do I always think the only avenue of love and loss in romance?

But alas, it came in another form. Friendships. Oohhhh.... ouch. Loss of what I thought was. What I put my heart and soul into, what I paid greatly for and what I still pay greatly for. I still wonder what is wrong with me, that I am so easily cast aside, but still, there are parts of my heart that have been awakened by a soft whisper and hopes of something more that touch on the pain and make me hope for more.

Redemption had always been my word of the day. As if it was a form of graffiti that was my tagline. Redemption. Hope. More. Enough. Change. All of those things that everyday get me out of bed. It can't be like this always.

So I had a husband that preferred made up images rather than me. So I never fulfilled the ideas of what success looked like to people. So my best friend walked away... then I moved and failed somewhere else... and then my other best friend walked away... then I failed financially... then my other best friend walked away...

I have seen redemption. Maybe not in the ways I thought I would, maybe those that have hurt me never ended up recognized it and told me so... and now, now in my hour of need again, I have to believe He doesn't want the loss to last forever.

I can't believe that He would want me too feel so unlovable.

So now... now I wait. Now I enjoy what I do have and I wait. And I learn. And I wait. And I love. And I wait. And I grow. And I wait. And I pray... and, I wait.

But this time, I wait hopefully, knowing He is redemptive. Knowing my heart is more important than my actions and that He isn't going anywhere. I haven't does something to make people not love me, it's just part of the journey and I refuse to let the journey beat me. I want to know what He has, what this Has to do with Him.

So I wait... and I let the thoughts flit in and out and I let the walls talk back to me and the shapes of my face turn into Picasso's version of art. And I wait...