I truly hate being discontent, but I have grown frustrated with my story this season. And that is putting it nicely :) As I told one of my best friends last night, I'd have stopped reading if it weren't my own damn life.
So many questions. It all comes down to not knowing who I am, or why I am, or what my purpose will be. I could write such a better story if I knew the answers to these questions...
I hurt.
One of the men that I most respect in life, a former professor at my college, used to tell me that in all the best stories, the hero doesn't come until the very last minute... when it seems all hope is lost. So I suppose every story has to have an "all hope is lost" before it gets to the good part. But reading it and living it are very different things.
Honestly, I often don't even feel like the heroine in my own story. I am the dopey side-kick, the best friend, the bridesmaid... the comic relief. And every story needs that... but... I had hoped for greater things.
Yesterday I was with two close girl friends in a coffee shop, and we were talking and laughing and being ridiculous, and being real. And I made the statement that I am so confused about life, because I know in this culture I am supposed to be a "career woman," but I really don't fit the mold. What I truly, honestly want is to be a wife, and a mother, to be a help and support to a good, godly man. That is the deepest desire of my heart. And I get so lost because everything else I attempt just feels like a waste of time. And I just don't understand.
And right then, the craziest thing happened. The guy sitting on the couch behind our table said, "Might I interject?" and then we were pretty much in a scene from a movie!
He was a nice guy, but a businessman, through and through. He told us about how he found his wife (online), and how we don't have time to waste. As if I don't fear that already. He told us that, as late twenty-somethings, we are competing for the handful of good men who are left, and that we need to be proactive because our competitions are 19 year olds, and we only have a "short window of beauty" to work with. Nice.
I want to give him credit. He was attractive and charming, and trying to speak from the heart, and he made some good points. He also said that he was glad to hear me say that I wanted to be a wife and a mom, and that that desire had been what sold him on the woman he married. I truly believe he was trying to help. But for the love of God, the last thing the world needs is more exhausted, competitive Christian women who feel like they have to hunt a man down. Lord, save us all from that fate!
If that is the case, then I'm out. I will not interview for the position of wife in a man's life. I will not grovel, or beg, or chase. I will not compete with a 19 year old with a perfect body. If you want a 19 year old, go get one. I will, most certainly, not stand in your way.
The truth is, God has made a woman out of me. Brought up in a terribly unhealthy environment, I have chosen to seek and trust Him, and let Him heal me, though it hurts worse than anything I could have ever imagined. I have chosen to save myself for marriage, I have chosen to live vulnerably and honestly before a critical world, I have chosen a harder road, and that has left its share of scars. I leave my heart in God's hands, because every time I don't, I make an absolute mess of things.
And truly, I do not want to waste time. God knows I do not want to compete. And by the grace of God, no, I do not want to just make out with you on your couch! Whether I deserve more than that, I do not know. But I have the power to choose, and I have chosen. I would rather "fail" seeking and trusting the heart of God, than try my luck at anything else.
If that is not enough for a man, then so be it. Bring on the cats. I have nothing more to offer than who I am. And who I am is who God has made me to be thus far. I will continue growing, but I can never be more than He allows. So I will not exhaust myself further trying to be someone I'm not for some guy who won't, in the end, even want me.
My hope rests in the fact that the story isn't over yet. There are still chapters to be written, and the heart of God is a wild, wild place. He has certainly told some good stories in the past. There is still a chance that mine will be no exception. All I really know to do is keep reading...
Stream of Unconscious
Often I wake in the middle of the night with thoughts and visions that must be written. A lot of it may seem like mere rambling, but I am a born writer; I need to see what happens to my words once they stare back at me from the pages of my computer screen. Since I am ususally more than half-asleep when this happens, I jokingly entitled the original document: "Stream of Unconscious." Now that I am finally starting to publish in a blog (as so many people have suggested I should do!), I thought the title remained appropriate.
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1 comment:
Bless him. So, when are you going to sit down with Frank and ask him to find you a man? Ha! I am glad you wrote about this, though. It was a conversation I won't forget anytime soon.
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