The Inevitables of Life 7/6/15
There is a sadness that is permeating my life. It’s like a smoke filled room that cannot be aired out. It oozes into all my thoughts, consuming my mind almost all the time. I want to cry only because it feels like it is the only way to release the poison from my blood. Yet, I find that I want to seal the tomb to this sadness as if it was never alive; like I just don’t want to feel this emotion any longer.
It is a battle.
It is heaviness.
I knew that this kind of day would come. It’s inevitable. There is no one exempt from saying good bye at any level. We all face it—whether by death, by a move, by change. We all experience the moment where we are required to say goodbye. Everyone.
But quite honestly and brutally, I feel as though I’ve said enough goodbyes in the past months then I care to number. Goodbyes aren’t reserved just for people. It is for things. It is for dreams. It certainly is for people. Goodbyes come in different shapes and sizes.
Eight months ago, I said goodbye to America and everything I had known to be concrete in life—my job, my family, my friends, my car. I flew half-way across the world to a world of great unknowns. Very quickly, I found myself stripped of everything familiar to me, reduced to what felt like a mandatory baby stage. Even the basic thing as communication was limited as I struggled to learn the language. People here had no idea who I was or what kind of capabilities I had. Instead, I was just some girl from America who couldn’t speak or understand the language besides hand gestures.
If that wasn’t enough of goodbyes, then came the crazy problems which led to not being able to do the accounting and marketing work I had planned to do. On top of that, helping with the worship team came to an abrupt halt as people were shaken up by the appearance of the police at random points. The very word of “deportation” was a reality check to my already shaken world. There were moments where it was questioned whether I should appear at a gathering or not because the police showed up and I was there, it could potentially cause problems for all involved.
There were many days when I sat in my apartment wondering what in the world is going on and how do I process any of this. Slowly but surely, I’ve felt in my heart this sadness increase as I continued to say goodbye to my expectations of living here in this new country. Then as time rolled around, my friends started to leave to go back to their respective countries. As the circle became smaller and the friends closer to me are approaching departure as well, the sadness is increasingly getting stronger.
I’ve been told in the past, that weeping for expectations and dreams unfulfilled is a healthy thing to do. It’s weeping over the inevitable, the unchangeable, the interruptions.
It just doesn’t feel right to weep now. There are more goodbyes in the near future. In a sense, I find myself hanging on, willing my heart to hold on and process it all at one time. But today I said goodbye to a friend. As I prayed for him, I almost lost my composure. I almost gave in to the tears. I almost left myself crack. Outwardly, I did fine but inwardly there are bits and pieces of me that are breaking down under this pressure. I never planned on it being this difficult. I never planned on it being this emotional. I never planned on being impacted in monumental ways in this place. Wasn’t it Ernest from like Ernest Goes to Camp or something that said, “I came. I saw. I conquered.” Or something along those lines. I would never have admitted to that mindset but I see it clearly now. I wanted to come. I wanted to see. AND I wanted to conquer, add one more “good” thing to my growing list of good deeds. That’s all.
It’s turning out to be much more than that. Much, much more.
It’s the inevitables of life.
While many from the States, don’t quite understand this roller coaster; nor do they understand my desire to make sure all doors are closed, I’m ready for life to become “expected” again. Yet from the recess of my mind, I half wonder if this is really what adventure with God really looks like. If living out in faith, means allowing myself to be in chaos holding on with a death grip to the only thing I know to be stable: God.
Maybe that is it. Maybe it is a matter of letting go of my own expectations and becoming okay with the inevitables of life whatever they look like just as long as I have God leading me. Maybe that is exactly what this is all about. If so, then I can only pray for my own heart as I process all these inevitables.
Poppa, you have searched me and you have known me.
You know when I sit and raise, when I sleep and when I’m awake.
You know me better than I know myself.
You are the one who has brought me to this place.
You are the one who has ordained all that has happened and all that will happen in the future.
And you know about all these inevitables, these goodbyes.
So I pray today, that my heart be restored, renewed but changed.
I pray that I learn to become willing to let go of my need for the expected parts of life.
Teach me to lean on you.
Teach me to fix my eyes on you.
Teach me how to say goodbye well.
Teach me how to weep when weeping is appropriate.
Teach me to see you as my Rock, my Salvation, my Hope.
Teach me Poppa.
My heart is weary. My heart hurts. My heart feels wounded.
BUT, I will put my trust in you.
For you are my Poppa.