I stood in the entry way of my little two bedroom place looking down at the text I had just received from THE guy (Yes, the one from my last blog.) on my phone.
“Why did you have to be such a… guy…” I said softly to the phone.
I wasn’t able to move. With each beat of my heart I could feel a tidal wave of disappointment, rejection, embarrassment, and even shame surge through my veins. I could feel the destruction run through me from my core, then out to every capillary of the tips of my toes and fingers. My head was spinning.
I wasn’t as angry as I had been only moments before. (And as we all know, anger is actually just a form of hurt. Boy was I!!) We had exchanged a few texts in which I had made it known I was just a tad bit miffed. “Whoa, can we take a breath a second?” he had written back. I don’t remember what else he said, just the gest of it. But it made sense, even if it wasn’t what I wanted to hear, and I did what he asked, took a breath, and calmed down.
I was actually grateful to him for that, for at least helping me keep some dignity in tact; and I had to appreciate that about him if nothing else. To his credit, he was not a total asshole and I didn’t have to put him into THAT category. But that disappointment still remained. In one fell swoop he had gone from being that perfect guy, to just a guy. And that alone, was something else I would have to come to terms with.
You see, what I thought (hoped) would be a coming together of us being on the same page, only turned out to be the same paragraph. Maybe a sentence…a word?
It was more like those things we had in math when we were young. You know those thingies that had the holder for this tiny pencil and the other end had this really sharp pokey thingy that could put someone’s eye out, and they don’t let kids use those ones in school anymore? Now the pokey thingy is more like…something else. But you can’t trust kids today like you could us kids back then-don’t even get me started.
Anyway, you put your sharp pointy thing on a certain spot and you draw an arc with the pencil end, keeping your pointy part in place. Then you move it to another spot and you draw another arc. Then you find the place where you have made this little fish looking thing. And then you have y0ur answers to your particular math problems. Sometimes the fish is big, and sometimes, it’s not very big at all, and looks like a mess. Can you tell I am a whiz at math!? But that’s the sweet spot, to me, when you look at two people and their lives and how they intersect with each other. This whole book nonsense and being on the same page…what the hell is that? Are we on the same page? Pft! Are we even in the same book?! Are we on the same PLANET!!! Just kidding, but this is how I personally have chosen to look at it.
I think we all have our mark to make on the world, and it makes an arc, based on where we are at in our lives. Our starting point may change, and it may not. And sometimes other people will have arcs that come close to yours and intersect with yours, and sometimes not. Sometimes your arcs or the “path” of the pencils will cross. Sometimes it will make a blip, sometimes a little fishy looking thing; but as any outdoors man can tell ya, it’s the BIG fish you really want! The fish I made with this guy, was not turning out to be a very big fish…and I wanted him/it to be. Enter disappointment, stage left.
Although he did his best to smooth my ruffled feathers, I just could not help but feel…all these yucky things I didn’t want to feel. A lot of it translated into me not being good enough. And I got mad. THAT was when I started running around the track out behind my place. So, not only did he inspire me to run, he INSPIRED me to run! He became this driving force that pushed me out the door that day in a resolute determination to do something I had never done before, and had no idea if I could do or not! All of the sudden, I had a desire to do something I had no desire to do before. I actually WANTED to do something I swore I hated! How did that happen? I honestly don’t know my motive behind it. Was it to get his attention because I knew he was a runner? Was it to prove something to him? Maybe. But it didn’t turn out that way. There was a lot of reflecting that went on during those runs. Often times, about him. Especially in the beginning. But where I once hoped that the universe would somehow change him and he would magically fall madly in love with me, it changed me instead. That was the truest form of magic there ever was.
True to form, (my form) I began to back away from him. People can’t hurt you if you don’t let them get too close. This was the best defense mechanism I could find. Still is in many ways for me. When I begin to feel as though I might be in danger, I do what I often do. Run. Put some distance between me and thee, I say!
They say our instinct during times of danger is either fight or flight. I have always felt I didn’t quite fit into either category in many cases, and it’s only been in the last ten years or so I began to see that there was also the category, freeze. I can’t tell you how many times someone has popped off to me in ugliness or did something cruel; and I just stood there, and said, did, nothing. I think I am just so shocked that someone is talking to me like that or that they are treating me that way…I’m not really sure. But I freeze up plenty when the adrenaline kicks in and I feel like I could be in danger. And let’s face it, Love IS a Battle Field! Just ask Linda Ronstadt. Maybe that’s why I act like an idiot when I am really attracted to a man. Hmmm…something I may need to ponder. Cuz if I’m not interested in the guy, I am cool as hell. I’m jes sayin. So, for me, it really is either one. Flight or freeze. I don’t care much for fighting, though when I reach a certain point, I won’t run away from one. But mostly, I choose to run…or I just stand there trying to figure out what the hell is going on, but my brain won’t engage.
And it wasn’t like I cut all ties. Just…backed off. I recognized that he was in fact, a guy. A man. A person. One who had set a very clear boundary for me, whether that was his intention or not. One who could, and had, just let me down. Don’t get me wrong. I can’t blame him completely for what happened. There is an element of expectation that may have seemed perfectly reasonable to me, and he did not see it. I did not bother to talk to him about what I expected. I just…expected! And let’s be honest, expectations are a really great way for anyone to get hurt. Let me tell ya, learning that something you think means something because it meant something to you, in fact means nothing to someone else? That’s a huge disappointment! How much of our lives do we find ourselves asking, “What does this mean?” Okay?!?! It’s all around us! When someone of the opposite sex is nice to us, what does that mean? When they show us attention or make it clear they are attracted to us, what does that mean? Sometimes, it means absolutely nothing other than they are nice and they are attracted to you. That is it! And when you combine that with unrealistic expectations, it’s the WORST! Yet, for me, anyway, if I’m honest; I have to admit, it’s pretty hard not to have any. So, to be fair, I can’t lie blameless in the incident, nor do I want to pretend to be. But there was, at that moment, a recognition on my part, that he was not this perfect god-like creature I had put up on a pedestal, but in fact, a man…and an imperfect one at that.
So, this is what I am getting to. As I wrote about how THE guy “rescued” me the other night, (see my last blog) I felt this bit of guilt and other things going on behind the scenes in my head and heart. It was something I knew I needed to address, but not in the middle of that project, because it would just create a mess. But I did try to hint at it.
Perhaps “rescue” was not the right word, although in a round about way, that is what he did. But as I wrote about how this guy whispers in my ear and tells me everything will be okay, or that he pats me on the back and tells me I can do it, then takes a few steps back to watch, or that he is always there rooting me on in my head, or that he loves me without condition, and he is perfectly loving me with perfection and is in fact himself perfect; this man could not exist! And trust me, I was CONVINCED this guy was perfect. I mean, in my mind, this guy didn’t even poop! Okay? Get what I’m saying here?!?! But he’s not. There’s no way he CAN be…even if he WANTED to be…he just can’t.
But there is someone who can, and that’s the one and only God above. Yep, I am going to talk about god here for a minute. I need to tell you what he has shown me, and reminded me even as I wrote it in my last blog.
He is the only one who has never lied about anything, his word will never return void-and he promises that too. And if you read through the Bible, you will see that every promise, and prophecy he has given to man, he has kept. Did you know that the Bible is the only holy scripture that prophesizes? It’s true! And they have been, and are coming to pass! God ALWAYS has my back, he is a JUST God, and He never lets me down. And while I may kick and scream and fight along my path, he doesn’t leave me. He is still there watching and waiting. Just like I have envisioned this GUY is in my head, and what it’s like to be loved by him? What I am really describing is how God loves me. How HE is the one who prods me and propels me and comforts me, how HE stands on the sidelines and cheers me on; HE is the one who pushes me to be better, and to be that beautiful person he created. God loves me perfectly with perfection every day, and he IS perfect. He is perfect love.
But, I think that just as with being physically fit, being emotionally and/or mentally fit, financially, or with any aspect of our lives; there are going to be times when it hurts. Times when we have built up bad habits and walls from past experiences, hurts, and traumas, and they have to be torn down and built upright again, in the Lord. And when we find ourselves just plodding along and each step becomes so unbearable at times, and we think it pointless or maybe we have it wrong; and we ask God, “Why do I have to do this?!?! What is the point? Why does it hurt SO much?? I was comfortable where I was, Father, why do I have to change?” And we think that our complaining is going to get us what we want. But what if his answer is not what we expect?
What if God’s reply is an even bigger question? “What if change is simply me working off the fat of shame, or the jiggles of trauma, or ALL the negative things you have learned to try and protect yourself? What if change is me removing the emotional stuffing of your feelings, and unpacking the baggage that has become too heavy for you to carry?”
“What if change is simply me showing you who you really are, in me?” He asks.
“Come to me as little children.” He said. And I ask myself, “Do you remember her?”
Oh my gosh how I miss her sometimes! How I loved to run and laugh and play with my friends! I felt safe, and I didn’t worry about anything, because I knew my parents would take care of it. I was brave, I was beautiful, I was strong! I loved fiercely without reservation and I trusted without question. I didn’t see black or white (or brown) and I didn’t know what hate was. Well, except when it came to spinach or peas. But I used to have so much fun and just laugh and laugh!
I take inventory of now and who I was back then, say in the second grade, first grade, kindergarten; and I have to ask myself some questions!
Where did SHE go? How much of her is still left? Who have I become? Do I like her?
I think we all have a truth inside of us. I don’t know if it’s in our DNA or just a knowing in our guts. I can’t finger point where it lies within us. But I know this truth I speak of comes from God. This desire so many of us have to worship someone or something? That is our built in desire to worship God. This desire we all have to love and be loved in the purest form possible? That’s our long lost ancestral remembrance of what it was like to be in that love relationship with God. And for so many of us, we have lost it along the way. We have gotten it twisted around and confused it with something else. But the source? That’s God. And we KNOW it. We feel it in our bones. We may not be able to put our fingers on it, or completely understand it, or define it, but we KNOW it. That’s God. And he’s talking to me. He’s talking to you!
“Thou shalt have no other gods before me.” He says.
How often have I looked at a man and made him my little god? Put him up on a pedestal and all but worshiped him and gave him credit for something that belongs only to the one, true God? Only to be let down, if not completely destroyed when I discover he is not a god. I had put my faith and trust in a place it never belonged in the first place. How many times will I do it again? Because this is not a matter of what MAN I can trust! This is a matter and a question of when I lost my trust in God! And I began to think that I was the only one I could trust; and told God that he couldn’t get involved in this, because I had to make sure things went the way I wanted them to go. The way I believed was right! Guess what?! I can’t even do that!
David wrote in Psalms 121 “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from Yahweh, maker of the heavens and earth.”
We are talking about the one who made the heavens and the earth, the one who made even me! And I don’t believe I can trusts him?!? I have always had such a hard time admitting I need help, not out of pride, but because I have never felt I could trust anyone to get it right. To help me in the manner I see fit and acceptable. No, the kids can’t sweep the floor. They might not do it right. They can’t do the dishes, they may miss a spot or break a dish. This woman? She is extremely tired from feeling like she has to do everything herself because someone else might not do it right! Sometimes, I might let someone help me, if it was lifting something heavy or something like that, you know, something they can’t really mess up.
Then there was also a part of me that truly believed no one really wanted to help me. That most people around me wanted to see me fail, or simply did not even recognize I wanted or needed help, because they were too wrapped up in their own stuff. They did not care either way, and I was all but invisible to them. And honestly, there have not been a lot of people who WERE willing to help me throughout my life. I have had to do so much myself that I think that’s why I have become so appreciative of it now.
Does God help us through other people? Absolutely! In fact, I think he does most of the time! At least he has for me. I’m not going to go into a lot of detail here, but I remember many years ago back in the late 90’s that I struggled with a bout of depression in such a severe manor it was devastating me. I would sit in my house and cry out to God with tears streaming down my face; and I kid you not, the phone would ring, and it would be my friend, Ginger. (Ginger, my beautiful friend, who is probably the only one reading this-cuz my stats show that only a very few of my so called friends do-thank you for being the wonderful, caring person that you are.)
“I just wanted to call and see how you’re doing.” She would say. Because we were not the kind of friends who spoke on a daily, or weekly basis. But what is the probability that on those nights, she would always magically call me? Is it coincidence? Or was it God? You see, for me, there was no question. There was just no way it could be a matter of coincidence. Once, maybe. Twice? Pushing it. But on the third night, he showed me what I had asked him to show me. Yes, he was really there. He showed me through her.
I think it’s important to remember that God works THROUGH a person, but the source was always God. Because ultimately, He is the source of love and everything good. Whether it’s miraculous timing or not, at base, bottom line, all good things come from him.
I think we also have this universal truth inside of us that resonates within us. We don’t recognize it so much on a conscious level, but when it’s out of tune, we walk around just feeling that something isn’t right. And I think that’s our Father telling us we need to pay attention. We need to start looking around us and figuring out what it is we need to do to get back on track, because we have lost our way; and when we do this, we are the ones who must do the work.
I think a lot of times it is so easy for us to picture God as this magician in the sky who will change things for us if we just say the magic words, or if we’re good enough. Like, he can just say, “hocus pocus” and our problems just magically disappear-like on TV. And when we don’t get our way or we don’t understand what he is doing with us or why he is allowing us to suffer in some way, we pout and get mad at him just like a three year old. We forget that the mess we are in may have developed over a long period of time, and it won’t reverse itself overnight. We forget that matters of the heart take time. We live in such an instant world, why wouldn’t we? But this kind of thinking and believing is harmful to us.
Some of us lose our faith; our trust in him. We spend years or even a lifetime refusing to trust in him. Looking aimlessly and hopelessly for some person, just one, that we can trust with our hearts-our whole being-and will never let us down. You know what? They WILL let us down. Because they are human. They are not capable of taking the place of the one and only Father.
I love Tyler Perry. That man has the most profound wisdom he inserts into his movies and plays. One of my favorite movies is called Diary of a Mad Black Woman. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend you do. It’s the story of a woman who has been thrown out of her house by her husband, (on their anniversary, no less) and he has been cheating on her for years with another woman and even had two boys with this other woman. She keeps a diary, and she writes about what she goes through, and the healing that takes place. It’s amazing what keeping a diary can do for a person, and the insight it can give one into their own lives. It really is a lost art. Who has time for that when there’s TV and video games though, I guess…
Anyway, there is a scene where this woman is visiting her mother, played by Cicely Tyson (who I love) in the nursing home, and she is telling her mother about everything that has happened. Something else I love about Tyler Perry’s stuff is that the voice of reason often comes from an older person who actually has some experience at life, and Cicely plays that person in more than one of his movies. But she says to her daughter, “God has a way of showing you who’s God.” I mean, wow! Was there ever a truer, more profound statement made?! How dare we even consider anyone could even come close! How dare we place what belongs to him in the hands of another person! How dare we give someone credit for something that belongs to God!
And as we grow in him, the work has to be done by us. No one can do it for us. We will also find that most of the time, no one will, even if they could.
I was a brat. I mean, how I got that way, I honestly don’t know. I have mentioned before that we grew up poor. I mentioned before that my daddy was a preacher. So, there were many lessons I learned early on in life. Like, don’t expect too much, because you ain’t gonna get it. Or, don’t even bother asking, because the answer will be no. But there were so many other ways in which I was completely spoiled.
I had a lot of natural ability musically, so I didn’t have to put much work into my piano lessons. By the time I was in high school, I had lost all interest. The only song I can still play now is Beethoven’s Fur Elise, and I have to sit there a few minutes and plunk it out to bring it back to my memory again. I did not appreciate the gift God had given me, and I didn’t work at it. Now it’s gone. There were so many gifts God gave me that I didn’t appreciate because I didn’t have to work at them either. That’s how I became spoiled.
I was naturally gifted athletically-I was fast and I could jump. I was a pretty girl. (Though no one would ever convince me of that.) I could sing and play a few instruments, and maybe I had a few other gifts too. I was also, more importantly, exposed to God very early in my life. And yes, that was a gift. So, you can imagine how easily I took that for granted. In fact, to me, it was like having him shoved down my throat, and I spent plenty of time in my life wanting nothing to do with him.
Because, you see, when you don’t really have to work for something, you will NEVER feel what it’s truly like to appreciate it. I am ashamed to say that I grew up a preacher’s daughter and I have never read the Bible. I know a lot of scriptures in it, I know a lot about what it says simply from all of the exposure to it, or verses I memorized. But I have never actually sat down and read the Bible. And now, at this point in my life, I am EXTREMELY grateful that I still can and I am!
And I have heard so many people talk about what God has done for them with such passion and with tears, and immense gratitude, and great love for the Lord; and thought they were being just a little bit dramatic. Know what I mean? But, I never had to be in that place where maybe I had spent most of my life not even knowing he existed. I have ALWAYS known he was there, no matter what. It did not matter what I did or said or how mad I got at him, or how many times I walked away from him, I ALWAYS KNEW he was going to love me and welcome me back into his arms that were held wide open just for me.
But he has shown me who was God! Oh yes he has! Every time! When I had walked away from him and refused to trust anyone but myself, when I had placed my faith in a man, when I had put my whole heart and faith in one person. When I made my whole life about this one person? When I had made this person the sun for which my life to revolve around? God has stepped in every time and said, “No honey. I’m sorry. But you’ve got it all wrong. I am the one true God. I am the way, the truth and the life. I am the sOn of the living God who created the heavens and the earth, for which your live is given and revolves around. I am a jealous God who loves you and wants your whole heart in return. I love you with such passion and mercy and grace that cannot allow you to give me just part of your heart in return. I am a God who wants you to love me with your whole heart, and nothing less.”
I lift up my eyes to the hills, from whence cometh my help. Think about this a moment. When David wrote this he was looking UP to the hills. That means he was in a valley. How many times have we been “in the valley.” David writes about being in the valley a lot. The valley of the shadow of death comes to mind as a very popular verse in the bible. And he is pointing out the hills. The hills provide shade, and shelter and protection-a place to hide or be hidden. When we are UPON the hills we are provided with the ability to see things in the valleys we could not see while we were there. In some cases we can see in every direction, where before, all we could see was obstacles, (hills) or maybe just a few short miles or feet ahead of us. But think about what it takes to get up there. And the better the view, the higher the hill or mountain must be; therefore the more work in the climb.
I think about running back in Colorado and how much more I loved running on that track than running up and down hills. And maybe there’s a time for that and we can certainly do a lot of growing there in that way. But there comes a time when we have to grow beyond that. Because if we want to get stronger, we have to start running the hills. We will never grow past a certain point if we don’t. God does not allow us to become stagnant. We always wants to breathe fresh new life into us.
Ever notice how when you’ve become comfortable or complacent God comes along and shakes things up a bit? Many times, when we notice he has made things really uncomfortable, that’s his way of telling us it’s time to make a change, and maybe that means moving on. That’s because he wants us to grow! He is telling us there is still work to do! And we have to do the work if we are going to grow. There’s no magic pill we can take and all of the sudden we arrive.
And I think that when we live in a world, especially here in ‘Merica, where “there’s a pill for that,” we find ourselves not wanting to do the work. So many of our ills and ailments come from us not wanting to move, not wanting to put healthy food in our bodies. Not guarding what we hear and see and shoveling the junk into our lives. Then these men come along and tell us to take a pill and we’ll feel better. Then we place our trust again where it does not belong. One day we realize we thought this pill was a cure, but it did not offer the healing that only our God provides through his wisdom in the Bible, but just a momentary appearance of being well. Hiding the symptoms of what’s wrong with us. And we realize that in some cases we will always have to take those pills or make a change in how we live our lives. Many of us would rather take the pill. It’s just easier. Many of us who chose the pill, or the food, or the men (or women) or sex, or the television, or the drugs, or the alcohol….we also know deep down inside, that whatever crutch we are using to make us feel better for a while? It’s temporary. True healing, true help, comes from the hills in our live that we climb. The work we are willing to do in our lives always yields results. If we find ourselves in a field of weeds, we may have to ask ourselves just how willing we were to keep an eye out for them and keep them pulled.
I remember going through a really hard time in my life back in 1989. Really hard. I was in the face of having lost a job, and making some very hard decisions about an unwanted pregnancy and not wanting the father back in my life. I had come to believe whole heartedly he was a pedophile and I had already caught him trying to cheat on me. There was no way I wanted him around my daughter anymore, or around the this newborn child. He was such a dog when I told him I was pregnant, he said, “It ain’t mine.” I had some very serious, life altering decisions to make. I was not sure I would survive it all.
But this is another story I will tell later.
In the spring or summer, when I was just a few months along, my mother insisted I seek counseling and so I did. I was a wreck, and had all but shut down. I was sleeping on a bed I had not bothered to put sheets on, if I slept at all, and the house was a disaster. I was unable to find it in me to do anything. And during this time, as I was trying to sort out my life, I had this dream where I was climbing this mountain. I mean, it was AWFUL! It was dark, and it was raining, and it was muddy. There was nothing but rocks and mud, and it was cold and wet, and the climb was straight up. So there I was. Slipping and sliding and every time I looked up, there was rain beating down in my face and the light was bad and it was hard to see. And I was clawing at rocks and my nails were scraping against them and as they did, my teeth chattered and I spit out grains of sand and dirt that had found their way into my mouth. I knew the only way I could go was up, because I couldn’t stay there and if I tried to go back down, the journey would be just as difficult. Why go back? So I kept climbing in this dream, with lightening crashing all around me and water, rocks and mud in front of me, and I kept reaching up. I kept climbing upwards.
And when I woke, I thought what an amazing dream. It made such an impact on me that I still think of it today. I don’t know why at the time I found it odd. I was going through so much and yet did not make the connection with my reality and my dream for about a day. It was only when I told my counselor, how I had had this vivid dream that felt so real and it really stuck with me and my counselor just smiled. I honestly didn’t get it. Then he pointed out that in effect, I was climbing a mountain in my life. Duh! How did I miss that! My subconscious through dream was trying to work out my real life, and my subconscious knew that I was out on the mountain and that I was in a precarious place on that mountain, and that the only way out was for me to keep climbing.
But notice this. Even in my dream, there was no knight in shiny armor to rescue me. I can’t even dream right, apparently! But all kidding aside, there was not this hand that magically reached down for me to take hold of. There was no rope dropped down to me from up above or from a helicopter sent to find me. It was ME and the mountain. Nothing and no one else. And I kept climbing.
I woke before I reached the top. I would not know how the dream ended. Was it telling me something? Was it a premonition? Did I wake up before it ended because I got to choose my own ending? I would like to think that! I would like to think that I experienced the ending on my own, in real life. And I did choose, and it worked out beautifully. Because I did the work. On my own. With the strength and courage God gave me. I did it all through him, and he blessed me with a family who would be there for me and a few other people too. He even blessed me with a man who would fall in love me, pregnant and all; who said, no matter what you chose to do with this baby I will stand by you. If you want to keep it, I will help you raise it. Whatever you do, I am here for you. He was kind, caring, compassionate, understanding, loyal and he loved me. Flaws and all. He was also, as it turned out, just a man too. It’s a pretty amazing story though, but one I will have to tell later. Right now we are talking about the guy and running!
Running is an amazing thing, too. Physical running that is! It’s hard work, but it transforms you through showing you what you are capable of doing. It shows you just how strong you really are, and that maybe you can endure something you never thought you could. It conditions you, and it changes you inside and out. But only when you do the work. Just like with anything in life. Like finding out who we really are. What we are really capable of if we will just try? If we just persevere? And isn’t finding ourselves what God would call seeing ourselves through his eyes and who he created us to be?
This man, I think of as THE guy? Oh I love him so. I really do. He can do the simplest thing or make the kindest gesture that isn’t even geared toward me, and I will gush, “I just LOVE that man!” That’s real. That’s genuine. But he has not, and cannot save me. He can be my hero and he is, on quite a few levels. He truly is an amazing person in so many ways. That is where it must end though.
The truth is, reality and fantasy are two different things. Sometimes they can cross over each other and come very close to seeming like they are one, but they are not. They can come close and maybe share a space for a while. In some cases and other circumstances they can even seem like reality. And with this guy, I can take all the good things I see about him, and while they are true, I have to ask myself what I do not see? Do I remember that moment he had to be just a guy? Because in that moment, he really was. And I was truly sad and disappointed in it. And there is so much about him I don’t even know. For all I know, if I had to see him every day he would probably drive me up the wall just like everyone else does. I would be begging him to please go play golf like I had done with ex number two so many times before. Please, Please! Go do something and get out of this house so I can clean it without you staring at me! Ha! (No, I can’t ever see him being that bad.) But my point remains. For all I know he leaves the toilet seat up and refuses to accept that yes, that IS the way it’s supposed to be, even if I keep falling in! He may have some annoying habit I am completely unaware of and I could very well want to strangle him. And how incredibly sad would that make me? To reach a point where this angel I have thought him to be, has become a demon I merely want to be rid of…I don’t want that. See?
I mean, I know pretty much beyond the shadow of any doubt that I will never see this person again. Let’s just say, it’s possible, but not probable-regardless of how much I would love that, I think that in fact, if I ever did see him again, I would most likely run and hide in hopes he had not already seen me, in all honesty. Of course, I have had the fantasy where maybe I am visiting a friend who lives in the same state he does, and by some miracle he shows up at the same museum she has taken me to, or some strange thing like that. And in my dream, I am at first so shocked and there’s this moment where I don’t know what to do, but something else takes over and I run up to him and just hug the crap out of him because I am so dang happy to see him! But that’s just the fantasy version. It’s not real life. In real life, I would probably hide, like I said, or just stand there afraid to move…would he see thr0ugh that and walk over to me and hug me instead? Maybe I would cry… the whole idea of it actually happening, for me, would in all probability be that overwhelming, and if I allowed my true self to show…I very well could just cry. My impulse though would be not to show that to him, but sometimes I wonder if I might cry. He is that guy, after all.
I think in a lot of situations, we all have fantasies, and they are a healthy part of our lives. I think in many situations, (as with myself and some of the loneliness and hurtful situations I bear), it is completely normal to fantasize about a person who is able to provide them with whatever that thing is that they so desperately want or need. It’s safe, and it’s gets us through the moment. For me to put on Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, drink a glass of Moscato, and close my eyes and pretend I can talk to him and touch him because I don’t have that, and I am lonesome for a “dream lover” of sorts…I think is something a lot of people might do.
But he can never be my savior. My dream lover may in fact do many things God would want any of us to do for someone we say we love. I think many of us instinctively know what perfect love should be like, yet forget it comes from God. But we must all remain true to the fact that as wonderful and god like a person we have been blessed with might be, they can never truly save us. And God will remind me of that every time. Even when I sit down and write a story where I have romanticized this man and talked about how he “rescued” me by introducing me to running and how I miss him and running both, sometimes. He will be there whispering to me in my OTHER ear, that even as I write that a man rescued me, he is the one who has given me every good thing. He reminds me, and I know from whence my help comes.
Yes, even in the real world, I do love and absolutely adore this man. But there are many kinds of love, and I know this too. I know that what I choose to believe and feel about him in my fantasy and what I may actually feel and believe about him if I were involved with him may in fact be very different things. It’s that burning to know “what if” though, that makes him THAT guy, after all. The reality is I love him in real life too, like a dear friend. Like any of my friends I hold dear to me and close to my heart. But with him, there are questions and stirrings that I do not have with my other friends. And should I have had the opportunity to know him better, I realize that love would change in some way. Because people are living being who change, love is also living thing of sorts, and it can also change. It can grow, it can become stagnant,or morph into something else. Just like we do. That “what if” wonders what that would be. But real life tells me it is not for me to know. And, that’s another lesson in learning in and of itself.
In real life, he certainly has played a significant role. One in which I have chosen to honor and not let become tainted. Whether that’s good or bad, I could not really say. At least not now. Yes, he has affected me. And yes, I think that at times, God has sent him to me to minister to me in different way; knowing that he was the person who could be used by God because God knew he was a person who would get my attention. Because remember, he has a way of showing us who is God, and he knows how to get our attention! And I have no doubt God has used even him to do just that. Sometimes in good ways, and other ways maybe just a little hurtful. Yet God has turned even the hurtful ways into good. Because God can do that. So, yes, he can be my hero, he IS, in so many ways. He is truly that amazing to me.
But, I also know who saves me.
I think God wanted me to be clear on that. I thought maybe you should be too.