Eclectic Waters

Archive for November, 2009

I sit in the chair, back straight

holding my brush

brow furrowed in concentration

i want it to look just so

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i’m filling the outline on my page with color

carefully staying inside each line

my back stiff, leaning toward the canvas

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She knocks my brush out of my hand.

“What are you doing?”

I look at her, shocked and irritated.

“I’m painting,” I reply.

“What are you painting?”

I point at my canvas, too exasperated to speak.

She barely glances at the canvas.

“Why are you afraid to paint outside the lines? This is not a fill in the blank class. You’re supposed to paint!”

“I didn’t want to mess up, so I drew the outline.”

She softens, “you shouldn’t be afraid to mess up. You’re in this class to learn. No more outlines, just paint and with time you’ll improve in your ability to capture what your aiming towards. But no outlining, you’re stunting the process.”

I sigh, frustrated, but I know she is right.

I erase my outline, glance at the empty page and begin again.

the color is creeping back into my life

i’m dancing more

listening to rap in my car – dancing

listening to techno in my room – dancing

listening to aventura in my kitchen – cooking & dancing

in flipping through my Bible this afternoon, I came across this prayer scrawled in the margin dated 6/18/2007.

it captures my heart desire:

God, I pray for a man with a gentle heart, who will be tender towards me and cherish me all the days of my life -

who will respect and honor me as you do -

I pray that you will create a bright and peaceful spirit in me that will awaken adventure, desire and a desire for intimacy in his heart.

Allow us to be a part of your Kingdom – may we give you all we have,

make us clear minded and steadfast, especially in our love for you.

scrawled underneath, i wrote, a self sacrificing man.

But in the space of singleness, I do not know if or when the door to a new relationship will open -

but I’m becoming ok with this -

as I ask God to continue to color my world and re-awaken a vision and thankfulness in me for what I already have.

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Sunday morning I was re-reading A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken and it describes the relationship between him and Davy.

“What emerged from our talk was nothing less, we believed, than the central ‘secret’ of enduring love:sharing…Total sharing, we felt, was the ultimate secret of a love that would last forever…The killer of love is creeping seperateness…Ceasing to do things together. Finding seperate interests. “We” turning into “I.” Self. Self-regard: what I want to do. Actual selfishness only a hop away. This was the way of creeping seperateness…We would be us-centered, not self-centered…We saw self as the ultimate danger to love, which it is; we didn’t see it as the ultimate evil of hell, which it also is. We saw only the danger to our love. Still, we turned away from it, turned away because we loved our love. And we were determined that it should endure.” (pg 27,29,30)

At church, I was lamenting to God that I longed for someone to have this type of love with – and to create this type of relationship with, and the thought came to mind,

what are you waiting for? God loves you and longs for greater intimacy with you.

I was reminded “For your Maker is your husband. The Lord of hosts is His name; And your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel; He is called the God of the whole earth.” Isaiah 54:5

While I was composing one last ode to my last relationship, I decided against completing it. Well, I may complete it, but it won’t be posted here. That section of my life is o v e r.

I’m returning to the place I was before, you know, that place of contentment with myself and my life. The place where I wait quietly and leave it in God’s hands as to whether and when He will bring a best friend and lover into my life. But that isn’t my focus. Life is too short and I don’t want to miss the present moments longing for a different place, space or person.

I read a quote in O’s magazine last week about happiness and how studies show that older people (i.e. 40′s and 50′s) seem to be happier than younger ones (in their 20′s). The reason it stated are that as one gets older, one’s view of life shifts. It is no longer about figuring out the future and trying to proove oneself. Instead it becomes about

enjoying the present moment and all it has to offer.

Good advice, I thought. So it’s true -

I’m back on the high road after grieving the loss of this relationship, excited to see what lies ahead…

The lies and negative thoughts that are easy to battle when well rested, well fed and in positive relationships become louder when tired, hurt, hungry or lonely. In these states easily rebuffed statements become easily believed.

In the last week and a half, (has it really only been that long?), I’ve had plenty of time to process. All details aside, I’m doing better this weekend than last… and I can already see the road winding upward. My heart feels fat with the kindness and tenderness I have received from co-workers, friends and family.

When grief hits, regardless of the type of loss, it feels as though one is stranded in the desert. Scanning the horizon, the heat rising is the only presence besides sand and sky. Alone. Sadness.

But when a friend listens, says loving things, reminds you that this will pass or how loved and valued you are, it is as though you stumbled into the coolness of an oasis. The shade of friendly palms covering you as you sink your tired feet into the clear coolness of water.
I have received so many gifts of this kind the last days, I don’t even know where to start thanking people. The listening ears, warm hugs, verses, shared experiences and just the sheer amount of encouragement that has pressed itself next to me like the audience on the sideline of a race, “You can do it! Run! You’re amazing! Keep going! There are great things ahead!” I find myself pulled ahead and the quiet flower of hope once again pushing its head through the soil of my heart.

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There are the responses that make me laugh aloud,

“Is he GAY (does he like men)? What the hell is wrong with him!!!” from my friend Eric.

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and then those that make me cry because they are the truth I need to hear, like this email from my Mum:
I’m on my way to work soon. I was flipping through “The Shack” this morning (as I did yesterday morning). There are so many powerful tidbits that resonate with my heart. I read one this morning and my dear oldest daughter came to mind. It goes as follows:

‘Jesus?’ he whispered as his voice choke. ‘I feel so lost.’

A hand reached out and squeezed his, and didn’t let go.

‘I know, Mack. But it’s not true.

I am with you and I’m not lost.

I’m sorry you feel that way, but hear me clearly.

You are not lost.’

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