Fragile

Sometimes I feel so fragile. Like a wounded bird trying desperately to flutter her wings and soar high above all of the turmoil in this world. Lately I have been overcome with sorrow at how flawed humanity is, how deeply flawed I am. I find myself grieving old wounds and examining events in my life that I would rather forget. In an effort to hide my fragility I inadvertently hurt those I love the most by slipping into a hard demeanor and refusing to be open and vulnerable.

People who tell me they love me, people whom I would wage war to keep in my life have tried to encourage me. They have loved me, spoken the truth and been present when I have tried to hide. And even though I cannot imagine my life without them, I still find it difficult to let their love seep into my bones.

Then there is the matter of my faith. I wish I could live what I profess to believe, that God actually loves me just as he finds me, in all of my messiness. I wish I could remember that his love really is better than mine. Sometimes the experience of his love is so obvious that I can wrap myself up in it like a warm blanket and just rest. But most of the time I find it difficult to accept that I am actually lovable without performing, so I find myself doing things to try to gain his approval, hoping that he will reward me by infusing me with his love and answering yes to some of my petitions. And if the reward I want doesn't come or I don't feel loved, I assume that I have failed, he loves me less than others and I am unworthy of anything better.

Slowly, VERY slowly, I am chipping away at the walls I have erected around my tender heart and replacing the lies I have embraced with the truth that God thinks I am worth fighting for, even though I've never believed that to be true. I am involved in a very intense prayer study based on the teachings of St. Ignatius, and through this study I am learning more about God and more about myself every day. St. Ignatius would probably say that this sorrow I feel is a consolation (gift) because it is leading me into deeper intimacy with my Creator. All I know is that even though the process is excruciating and I am more aware of my humanity than ever, I feel deeply connected to my Savior and strangely peaceful. So even though I have been a bit more contemplative than normal and more sensitive, I'm okay. I'm finding my way and learning how to live in this new skin. I'll close with my favorite line from an Andrew Peterson song that is on repeat in my CD player:

All of my life
I've held onto this fear
These thistles and vines ensnare and entwine
What flowers appeared.

It's the fear that I'll fall
One too many times
It's the fear that His love
Is no better than mine.

But He tells me
Just as I am
Just as I was
Just as I will be
He loves me, He does
He showed me the day
That He shed His own blood,
He loves me, oh He loves me, He loves me He does.

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