Arrivederci

I really wanted to write a positive, hopeful post full of sage advice and achievable yet lofty goals, but then I remembered that there is precious little wisdom floating around in my stream of consciousness. And lofty goals? I gave those up after I failed to meet ANY of them in the past decade. Besides, when I TRY to write something meaningful it usually falls into the "what the heck is wrong with that girl?" category, so why bother?

Here's the truth, right now I'm sad because in saying goodbye to the first decade of the 21st century, I'll soon be saying goodbye to my 30s. It's not that turning 40 is all that upsetting - aging IS the goal - and I don't have a death wish. No, it's not the number that bothers me it's not having what I thought I would have by the time that number defined me.

Have you ever heard the saying, "When God closes a door He opens a window"? I guess that's true, except when it isn't. He not only closed the door to my dreams He proceeded to put bars and blackout shades on the windows. And let me tell you, that glass is shatter-proof. The only thing that shattered when I tried to break it was my heart.

Instead of love and marriage and the baby carriage I have, um, well, hm. Oh, oh, oh I have a job and a puppy and a new car!!! All things I love and need, ALL things for which I thank God humbly and frequently, but none of them are the deepest desires of my heart. Don't get me wrong, I do love my job (mostly), and I have amazing friends and many family members close by, but I still live my life in isolation. And my puppy is adorable, affectionate and fun, but he fails to give me the kind of companionship and intelligent conversation I crave. Plus his kisses don't really do it for me, aside from the fact that he isn't human HE EATS HIS OWN POOP. Enough said. To top it off I never did finish college and make something of myself. I just settled into a middle class, dull life that affords me a new car every 10 years or so mixed in with the occasional travel adventure so I don't die of boredom. I've got mediocrity instead of passion and purpose. I often look at my life and wonder, "What's the point?"

This is the spot in the post where I should wrap everything up with a nice little bow. Insert an encouraging Bible verse. Write about how God only has my best interests at heart. State that I'm okay because He's all I need. Sigh. I guess I just don't know how to believe that in this moment of grief. And that's okay. I'm pretty sure that God is much more likely to show himself when I get brutally honest and admit my despair. So off I go to try to figure out how to "do" this life I didn't plan.

I'll end with a link to a blog post that made me laugh until I cried today. The comments are funnier than the blog, and I'm tickled pink that my own comment made an appearance early on. Enjoy!

http://stuffchristianslike.net/2010/01/being-single-during-christmas-at-church/#idc-cover

P.S. - Happy New Year!

39 and Holding

As I find myself staring down the last year of my thirties I wonder how I got here. How did I become the girl who no one loves? This birthday is hitting me harder than I thought it would because, even though I have a year to go, I've accepted the fact that one of my biggest fears is imminent:

I will be single when I turn 40

Gulp. It may not seem like a big deal to anyone else, but it is the death of yet another dream, my most cherished one in fact, and it has shattered my ability to hope. Last year was unkind to me and all I want to do now is crawl under my covers and stay there for a really, really long time. I don't want anyone close to the gaping hole in my heart because it's too painful. I already gave up my dreams of children and a family to call my own, and even though it isn't the end of the world, being an Old Maid is not something I aspired to.

But hey, at least I can hog the remote, spend my money how I choose and set the thermostat where I want.....those are the "positives" my married friends point out to me. Yeah, FYI that's NOT helpful. I do, however, have Europe, and even though I often travel alone I enjoy people watching while sipping tea in an elegant cafe. I also love seeing art that I never see here, and glimpsing history that was left out of World History 101. It's a pleasant break from my life of boredom and I'd rather explore this beautiful world than not, even if I have to do it alone. Do you think it counts if I turn 39 in a foreign country? Can I choose to stay 39 until I get married? If so, I promise I'll give up the remote control without complaining, but money and the thermostat will take some serious negotiations!

Valentine's Day Dread

"Who needs a heart, when a heart can be broken?"





It's only a few days before Valentine's Day and that line from the old Tina Turner classic pretty much sums up how I feel. Dealing with Valentine's Day is more difficult every year, but this year I'm raw. Cupid's arrow holds only heartbreak and rejection and is aimed at the deepest part of my heart. I am desperately trying to put on my armor so that I can survive with some dignity; I just hope it's not too late...... Part of me wants to kick myself for not being more guarded. Why was I vulnerable and open when I knew I was risking heartbreak? Because I let myself hope. Unfortunately, hope has proven to be cruel and has shown me once again that I am worthy only of the dreaded "F" word: friendship.

God's love may be all I need; but it isn't all I want! Perhaps that's not very "spiritual" but it's honest. I've dreamed many dreams, and buried most of them. Granted, some were the foolish dreams of youth - I seriously wanted to be the next Amy Grant, and embarrassingly I thought I could be. I even wrote some really cheesy songs like "Visible Changes" and "No More Goodbyes", (I'll spare you the lyrics!!) But some of my dreams were noble and I was forced to bury them anyway. It was a painful process and I still find myself grieving their death from time to time. I desperately want to believe that I will not have to bury my dream of marriage, but I'm keeping my black dress just in case.

Maybe the process of laying bare my deepest longing, of finally admitting and embracing my deepest desire and seeing it remain unfulfilled will make me more compassionate and gracious. Maybe it will make me less selfish. I don't really know. I would say that I hope it does, but I don't really trust hope right now.

So tonight I will cry my tears and tomorrow I will dry them, engage my armor and get through the day by pretending that "it's gonna be alright". (That was an ode to Amy Grant in case you missed it!)

"They that sow in tears shall reap in joy." Psalm 126:5
"Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." Psalm 30:5