It happened. She went and did exactly the thing I told her not to do: turn 18. Yet she did it anyway. My daughter. I told her I was going to ground her for this, but she laughed and said she's already grounded. (She and her friend decided to go to Austin a couple weeks ago, sans parental permission.)
This morning I awoke with the bittersweet knowings in my soul of doors closing and new ones opening. I feel sadness and loss, I feel tears welling up as I type. But I also am running over with such joy and relief. I'm nothing short of an Accomplished Woman. I did it. Don't ask what. Just know, I did it.
I made her a pillow for her birthday. It was going to be a quilt, but instead, it's a big decorative throw pillow for her bed. I've been saving her favorite little shirts and dresses and sleepers ever since she was a baby so that when she turned 18, I'd make a quilt out of them. Over the years as she'd outgrow something, and if it was something colorful and cute and full of warm memories, I'd stuff it in the special bag, usually cutting a fabric square out of it first and tossing the rest. The bag has become fat and full over the years and I've lugged it with me everywhere I go. I never open it. But I had to a few months ago. I opened it up and dumped it out and found myself surrounded by a sea of warm memories of hugs, cuddling, laughing, reading books, stroller rides and playgrounds. It wasn't exactly easy to sew these patches together and create the finished product, but I did it. I've been working on it for the past few weeks. It's the craziest pillow you've ever seen, complete with big hot pink strings of fringe coming off each side. She's going to open it and laugh.
I did other things, too. I've done alot over the past couple of months.
I stood back up on my feet. I got a job, doing what I know how to do well- I'm back to talking customer's heads off about vitamins. I found an affordable apartment and I'm making plans to move very soon. I wrapped up my Season of "Purging". Purging. A good word, is it not? An old friend referred to it as that recently. I never looked at it this way. I viewed it as giving, sharing. But purging is quite accurate, although a little rough sounding.
Speaking of this old "friend". The tears that wait to be acknowledged in my heart this morning are also there because of him. I feel a certain sadness as I become more and more aware of how different my life has become, how unconnected I really am, how the ties that once held me close to certain people have now become frayed, untangled, and have come loose. I used to think it was just me. Now I realize, that's just life. I blame my hermithood but in all honesty, I've chosen to live the way I do.
I had this vision a few nights ago: A river, with three distinct "paths" lying flat upon the surface of the water, these paths appeared to be tire tracks, muddy. The paths ran parallel, a wide one in the middle and two slimmer ones on each side. Three paths, three tracks, three lives. They were in the river, going in the same direction. Above the river was a small golden bridge, it arched up and over, connecting the two river banks. I saw the three paths running one way, and the bridge going another way. I knew in my spirit, the bridge was part of my own path.
I stand on the side of this river now. I stand and watch the water flowing, I see these three lives going their own way. Where will they go? What will they do? Where will the flow of life take them? My tears are coming up now as I type. I know I must say goodbye to these three. I know the truth now, none of the three were mine for romance and love, yet it was the hope that kept my selfish female heart connected. The simple truth is, I was called to minister to these three, to wake them up, to speak truth. What a test this has been. I fell for each one.
One was my first love, perhaps the only man I have ever known "true love" with. It was powerful and real, but too strong at the time for me. The second was much younger than me, yet made my heart laugh with joy and made me feel free and fun. The third was the vessel that was used to cripple me and infect my mind during the past year, the most ingenius weapon that has ever come against me in the form of another human being.
Speaking to these three is how this all started, and not by choice. It just started to happen, beginning in '04. My heart was burdened for each one, dreams and visions were shown to me about them, and this, combined with feelings on and off, created a real confusion festival in my head and in my heart. I've been dancing with three men, yet none took the time to take my hand gently. I suppose the river is a good place for them to end up.
Pride. Self. All three struggle with these things. Do any of them realize that my personal writings speak of their own issues as well? Can any of these men take a look in the mirror and see, what I have shared with everyone are lessons for them as well? I spoke of my pain, my mistakes, lessons learned the hard way. I told them of how hard God dealt with me regarding pride and vanity. Can they open their eyes and see that I was struck down as a result of not yeilding these things to Him? Can they see, their lives are very much like my own?
I opened my life to show what I lived and what I learned. And now I stand, rejected romantically by the ones who wanted me, back before they understood what I was really all about, on the inside. I held out for this. I have been tested, and so I test in return. None have passed my own test so far. Not one man has swallowed his pride with me. Look at what pride does to you. Look at the lost opportunities it brings. Look at the roadblocks it creates. It all goes back to pride. Listen to me now. Humble yourself and deal with this sin before God does it for you.
I stand and feel the loss of these three possibilites, but I have learned so much. I now look at the bridge. I can't see where it leads. I can't see what's on the other side. But it's my own path to walk and I step on that bridge with a smile. I say goodbye to the river that washed me, goodbye to the memories that propelled me, goodbye to the men who taunted me. I loved you all, but my love can never be enough. May the strong current of the river lead you to a better place in life, a better way, a better day.
A vision comes to mind, several months ago: jello on my kitchen counter, all set up, and a handful of strawberries being tossed upon it, but bouncing off. It was too late to add fruit. The jello was already "set up."
Goodbye, boys. You rejected my fruit, but I laugh as the river carries you away.
Not saying it was a set-up or anything.
~*~
Another vision just a few days ago: a small drinking glass, clean and clear, yet filled with lots and lots of cigarettes, all crammed in there. Each cigarette appeared to have already been smoked, but they were still almost full length. As if someone just lit one, took one or two puffs (I don't know smoking terminology.. drags?) and then put it out. Not only that, but the end of each one had alot of that smokey gray ash hanging off of it, like it was really burned out. The glass was filled with these.
I'm being shown what my cup has been filled with, all of these years- burned-out relationships, not even finished, and barely started. Cigarettes are not good for you, just as none of the men I have been "sampling" have been, for me at least. I don't even smoke. What are these burned out things doing in my cup?
The enemy has tried to fill my cup with so many "failures" that I might be burned out and jaded regarding men, relationships, and love. That I might believe the lie that I've tasted so many, and only come up empty-handed, it's pointless. That all men and all relationships are bad. I have been subconsciously carrying this lie around with me for many years. That love goes nowhere, that relationships burn out fast, that the bad boys are the only ones I know how to taste.
I'm realizing, these negative and false things do not belong in my cup. I was not meant to spend my years searching for love and being hurt, and hurting others. I was not meant to experience so many dead-end relationships. I was not meant to lie down in a man's bed in hopes of something meaningful evolving. I have, up until 2004, been living like an unpaid prostitute, giving myself away for free.
I take this cup and hold it in front of me. I examine the ruins of my heart. I gaze upon each burned out option, each dead end. I don't empty the glass into the river, no, the river is already doing it's cleansing work. I think I will take this glass and bury the contents somewhere. But the glass I will take along with me, as I walk across that bridge.
I'm curious to see what exactly God wants to fill it with.
~*~
In 1990, when I was pregnant with my daughter, I had a very powerful and vivid dream: I was standing in an airport, waiting to board a flight. I was standing in line and there was lots of tension in the air, I was filled with apprehension. I carried a baby girl on my hip, we were getting ready to board a flight, a journey.
In '03 I had another dream along those lines, except this time, I was alone. Right around that time, my daughter went to live with her dad for a while. I knew I was beginning a new journey, a new path, one that would be deeper and more difficult.
Just a few months ago I dreamed of being in a small plane, I was the only passenger, and the pilot was my dad (my "Father"). He said, "Are you ready to come in for a landing?"
I am ready, Daddy. I am ready. Thank you Father for this incredible journey You have taken me on. Thank you for every trial and tribulation You've allowed me to experience. Thank you for the lessons You've taught me. Thanks for the peace I now have in my head and in my heart. Thank You for allowing sickness, and bringing healing. Thank you for showing me the painful things I didn't want to face. Thank you for the hope You've given me. Thank You for the promises You've given me. I believe You, Dad. I trust You. I know that all I need to do at this point in time is take my empty cup and cross that bridge.
~*~
I have seen glimpses of my future. I have looked into the eyes of my son. He has laughing, smiling eyes. The vision of him remains in my mind, yet I have been so quick to forget his appearance when I have tried so hard to make the puzzle pieces fit together. By that I mean, I think of a man I might know, or am attracted to, and I forget that my son looks nothing like him. Oh stop shaking your head at me. I'm not crazy. You just haven't gotten fully on my page yet. Get in my book, ok?
He looks nothing like any of my former "top-3". There is only one man that I know that he resembles. This just occurred to me last night. I was going through my head, trying to think of anyone I might know, that could possibly physically match up with the vision I had. There is only one man, and he's someone I've never been in a relationship with, but I do know him. He's a little bit older than me. I had a raging terrible crush on him from 2000 to 2003, but circumstances prevented me from ever expressing it. Maturely, at least. He's the only one that I know that looks very much like the vision that was shown me, not only facial features but also body type and even personality. I sensed my son, I sensed his being. I felt his laughter. I saw him viewing me and laughing at me. I felt his love.
The thing is, I've always known that I'd end up with someone I already know. That's why I've made the mistake so many times of assuming it's such and such. I've been acting like some kind of detective when really I should be enjoying my life. I want to be a normal woman so very badly. I want to learn to handle the things God shows me, yet still enjoy things normally. How? I guess I'll just have to figure it out.
Look at me. Talking about needing to stop trying to solve puzzles, and at the same time, saying who I think my future son looks like. Look at me! Do you agree that it's a good thing that I'm stopping all this blogging? I am, by the way. I am. I already did, in fact. I'm no longer on the computer. I just wanted to do this one today. I woke up with this full head and I need to spill it out.
~*~
Last night at work I met a man from India with a very fluffy beard. And he looks around my age, he's not even old. His beard is puffier than Santa's. I was fascinated. He was speaking softly about vitamins yet all I could do was gaze at his beard. I didn't even answer his vitamin questions. Instead, I told him that his beard was very puffy. He smiled and touched it and told me all about it. He uses vitamin E soap on it. He said if he didn't trim it, it would grow extremely long. I told him he reminded me of Cat Stevens. He didn't know who he was! So I had to tell him all about him. He said he'd go home and look him up, then next time he's in the store, he'd tell me of some good music I can check out. I made a new friend. I love this job. I don't see it as several different jobs, no, it's all one long vitamin selling job, just at different stores. So I can say, I've been doing the same thing since '99. That's when I got my very first job in a health food store, making smoothies. I'm on my 7th store now. I think I've found Vitamin Nirvana. It's the best one so far.
Something I really like about it is one of my co-workers, he's only 20, and that means FUN. We invented a new concept the other night: Alternate Reality Vitamin Store. It's where you go and buy things like Tapeworm Eggs instead of colon cleansers, Arsenic Concentrate Drops instead of ionic minerals, and Cow Pattie Dainty Soap instead of herbal cleansers. The list goes on and on. I love my new job.
