Though he slay me...
Went for a walk last night, to ease the pains of being a woman. It had rained earlier in the day, but that didn't prevent a beautiful sunset from blossoming in the sky, just as I reached the lake. I paused on the deck of the gazebo and leaned on the railing as I watched the fountain shoot water up into the sky. Six ducks swam across the surface of the lake, gliding past me quietly as their feet churned the water violently just under the surface. My personal soundtrack played only for me to hear, and was the perfect complement to the visual beauty that surrounded me.
It seemed appropriate to relect. I've been through some more shit in the past few months, and I am bearing new scars. Kynan turned out to not be the man I thought him to be. He has potential, but a very wise and down-to-earth pastor once reminded a good friend of mine that you don't want to settle for someone who has potential. Nor do I wish to settle for someone who doesn't want me. You see, Kynan did what I was afraid of; he walked away. "I don't want any labels, or commitments," he told me.
And so he has none, except perhaps the label of friend. He's barely that, but it might be for the best.
I'm in a better place, several months later. I was able to reflect next to that lake about some of my hopes, my dreams, my hurts, my fantasies. I tried to give myself a healthy dose of reality. And as I observed the ducks floating by, it seemed appropriate to give a simple thanks to God. For a moment it seemed almost easy to believe in Him, and to trust him. It's been difficult (to say the least) to trust him since Mannix. I realize that the true test of faith is probably most apparent when it's not easy to believe, when God takes away what he has given and has not yet replaced it. It has made me more cynical, less likely to have hope, to believe in a lot of the Christian band-aids that are slapped on wounds when life disappoints...when God disappoints. And then I remembered a character in a book who lost her family to starvation and murder, who herself was thrown to lions. "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him."
All I faced were ducks, but I was content to think "Though he slay me" with emotional wounds...maybe there's a purpose. Maybe life isn't meaningless. Maybe there's still hope. Maybe I can believe.
I....hope....so.
Went for a walk last night, to ease the pains of being a woman. It had rained earlier in the day, but that didn't prevent a beautiful sunset from blossoming in the sky, just as I reached the lake. I paused on the deck of the gazebo and leaned on the railing as I watched the fountain shoot water up into the sky. Six ducks swam across the surface of the lake, gliding past me quietly as their feet churned the water violently just under the surface. My personal soundtrack played only for me to hear, and was the perfect complement to the visual beauty that surrounded me.
It seemed appropriate to relect. I've been through some more shit in the past few months, and I am bearing new scars. Kynan turned out to not be the man I thought him to be. He has potential, but a very wise and down-to-earth pastor once reminded a good friend of mine that you don't want to settle for someone who has potential. Nor do I wish to settle for someone who doesn't want me. You see, Kynan did what I was afraid of; he walked away. "I don't want any labels, or commitments," he told me.
And so he has none, except perhaps the label of friend. He's barely that, but it might be for the best.
I'm in a better place, several months later. I was able to reflect next to that lake about some of my hopes, my dreams, my hurts, my fantasies. I tried to give myself a healthy dose of reality. And as I observed the ducks floating by, it seemed appropriate to give a simple thanks to God. For a moment it seemed almost easy to believe in Him, and to trust him. It's been difficult (to say the least) to trust him since Mannix. I realize that the true test of faith is probably most apparent when it's not easy to believe, when God takes away what he has given and has not yet replaced it. It has made me more cynical, less likely to have hope, to believe in a lot of the Christian band-aids that are slapped on wounds when life disappoints...when God disappoints. And then I remembered a character in a book who lost her family to starvation and murder, who herself was thrown to lions. "Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him."
All I faced were ducks, but I was content to think "Though he slay me" with emotional wounds...maybe there's a purpose. Maybe life isn't meaningless. Maybe there's still hope. Maybe I can believe.
I....hope....so.
posted by Joy at 10:37 AM
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