I’m going to see Lynyrd Skynyrd this week. I’ve never done anything like that before.
I signed up to volunteer at the Pregnancy Information Center.
I went back to school for nursing.
I rediscovered my love for painting.
I sat and listened to the people around the table answer quickly and definitively. They were able to see things in their lives that were good and that would not necessarily have happened had they not gone through this dark time.
“I have lived out all of my dreams. Honestly. I have written books, I am a mother, I have a speaking ministry, I have the best friends any girl could ever want, I’ve led the women’s ministry at my church, I’ve traveled to Haiti and to Africa, I’ve been on staff at a big church…” I said, and paused. “I filled up my life to compensate for the deficiencies in my marriage. I’ve already done all I’ve wanted to do. And now…now I’m watching things shift. I’ve stepped down from leading things, my speaking schedule is leaner because of my situation, I can’t pick up and travel to a third world country as easily as a single mom… I’m not complaining, but I’m realizing that my dreams already came true.”
So another huge thing I’m scared to write about is the admission that I fear that my best life experiences are behind me, that they have all already happened.
There, I said it. That is what I’m sitting with today. That I’m done. That I’ve been shown the door.
Because of my dark cloud (see the last post), I am well aware that pessimism might be following me around. I also know that I’ve always struggled with the concept of hope. I’m totally excited and anticipating my time with Jesus when all is said and done, but show me a verse that says I have hope for a fun, adventurous life here on earth. We have a hope and a future, for sure…but is that necessarily talking about now?
I know it doesn’t work this way but a small part of me feels like I’ve already lived a lifetime of dream fulfillment and I can’t possibly have more big experiences coming down the pike for me, especially as walking wounded.
But this is a short-view perspective. It might be the perspective I’ve got today but I am hoping (see, there I go bringing up hope again) that Jesus will realign my vision sometime soon.
Until then, some lyrics from Sara Groves:
It’s hard to feel obsolete / It’s hard to feel your skirts are showing / You pull and tug to hide the works / That keep the whole thing going /
And you don’t know where you stand / And you feel so small and thin / And if you are dismissed / Will another take you in? /
And if you are dismissed / Will you get another try? /
And I know I shouldn’t care / If I’m out or if I’m in / Cause if I am dismissed / Oh you always take me in