There are two lives going on inside me. If you were to meet me in one setting, you would hardly recognize me in the other. You wouldn't even know the other side existed without my disclosure. I wish for these two lives to be dissected and reconciled to each other. Actually, while we are wishing, most of the time I wish I was a whole new person altogether. I wish I could rewrite the last 12yrs of my life with the knowledge I have now.
The first is my favorite version of myself. This is the part of me that thrives on adventure, and risk, and trusting God with my last dime. That sort of thing. The version that buys fresh produce and cooks meals. The version that spends more time outdoors than indoors. This version loves to run, bike, and swim with the sun on her skin. The version that has the time, energy, and rest to notice the world around her, to notice other people, to notice God. The creative version that loves to write, draw, take pictures, and build things. This version loves to meet and mingle with people, and hear all the stories she can from them. This version is strong and confident and couldn't care less about being single or babyless because she already has so much to explore each minute of each day. This is the summer break version. I feel so sad that this version only gets to fly free for two months out of a whole year.
The other part of me is a workaholic. The part that doesn't get home until 10:45pm after a track meet and is back at school before 8am the next morning. The part that eats frozen pizza for dinner because that's whats left. The part that spends 10hrs/day under flourescent lights and sometimes two hours/day in her car. This part can never catch up on to-do lists that carry over from week to week. This part often feels sick, fat, sleepy, weak, and highly irritable. This part blames and snaps at others. This part puts up with men who treat her poorly, and sometimes even longs for them. Do you know what this part got for Valentines Day this year? A lousy email that said something to the gist of, "I thought about sending you flowers, but I don't think you're worth it, nor do I actually want to be with you, so here is nothing but an email. There, that should make you feel special while everyone around you gets bouquet after bouquet from their husbands today." (I'm sure it was meant to sound differently, but that's what I heard when I read it. This was also recently followed with a "Gosh I miss you!" text. Guys always love me more in retrospect than present tense. This is a common theme throughout my love life.) This part is lonely and chained to her cage with shackels of excuses, for about 10 months every year.
My answer to this conundrum for a while now has been to move. To move away and start over with a clean slate and live life more fully. It is so easy for others to say, "So sell your house and go!". Others who will not be affected whatsoever by my bank account that sells this place or looks for a new job. It is also just as easy for others to shell out advice like, "You'll be just as unhappy anywhere else, so I don't even know why you talk about moving." Others who do not witness me cry myself to sleep sometimes because I often get this overwhelming feeling that I just don't BELONG here. I've not heard Jesus give me any relocation assignments, but I also cannot deny the everpresent, nagging, feeling that Denton County is no longer "home" for me.
Donald Miller is my favorite author. You've probably heard me say that a time or ten. I just feel that his words could so easily fit in my mouth. Let me try to use his thoughts to explain my feelings today...
"Leave. ...Roll the word around on your tongue for a bit. It is a beautiful word isn't it? So strong and forceful, the way you have always wanted to be. And you will not be alone. You have never been alone. Don't worry. Everything will still be here when you get back. It is you who will have changed."
-Through Painted Deserts
"So you think you should go away?" he clarified.
"Yes."
"Where will you go?"
"America."
"America?" He looked confused.
"We are in America right now, Don." he looked confused.
"Yeah, I know. But there are other parts to America. I'd like to see the other parts. I was looking at a map the other day, you know, and Texas was sort of brown with some green, a few hills, and then there were other places that were more green with big lumpy mountains. I'd like to go to those places."
"Do you think God is out there somewhere? Out there in the lumpy places?"
"I think God is everywhere."
"Then why do you have to leave?"
"Because I can't be here anymore. I don't feel whole here. I feel, well, partly whole. Incomplete.Tired. It has nothing to do with this church; its all me. Something got crossed in the wires, and I became the person I should be an not the person I am. It feels like I should go back and get the person I am and bring him here to the person I should be. Are you following me at all? Do you know what I am talking about, about the green lumpy places?"
- Blue Like Jazz (look for movie out soon!)
Sometimes I just feel so trapped on this planet. Like what's the purpose? Why is it so important for me to be here 90+ years? Its obviously not to reproduce...so then what? To explain science to kids? To see pretty places? To organize a well-groomed bank account? To get my heart broken over and over until its like a mozaic sculpture? What's His reasonings?? If this is it, I think I'd rather be with Him.
Coughy and snotty and don't feel good this weekend.
Yours truly,
-C
