Too Scared to Pray

I have faith. Lots of it.

There was a time not too long ago when my faith was my most defining quality, when community with God and a rich prayer life summarized my daily existence. It's who the people who knew me best- my family, friends, and co-workers would describe me to be.

Somewhere along the line, things changed. I don't read my Bible every day, and I don't spend time alone in prayer and processing every day like I used to. Don't misunderstand: I don't love God any less, and it's not like I started to doubt the claims of Christ or his power in my life. Kinda the opposite, actually.

I know very well what it looks like to let God lead, and to be honest, sometimes it just flat out scares me. It scares me because I KNOW that when I make that choice to let God poke around in my heart, in my mind, in my life, He's gonna ask me to do something about what's there. He's gonna ask me to surrender something stupid that I've been clinging to for too long, something that doesn't allow me the freedom to live the beautiful, sacrificial life He calls me to; something that has become toxic and made me feel stale, stuck, and stranded.

I KNOW that, while I've felt this combination of longing and discontent in my heart of hearts, the one thing that will lift the burden and the haze is to sit down and pray. To come clean. To stop trying to do things my way (which obviously isn't really working anyway) and get back to what actually makes me happy. But I'm too scared.

Sitting in church this morning, I had one of those experiences where it felt like God was looking right at me, waiting for me to acknowledge Him. To say, "Hey, can we talk? I mean, really talk." At one point in the service, I stopped and thought about the words I was singing and completely lost it... front row, tears, awesome. I wasn't sure I would be able to regain my composure but grateful that I did. Anyway, I knew that it was time for me to get some things worked out, and that usually starts with a quick blog to get the thoughts cohesive.

So, yeah. I am too scared to pray right now. I am too scared to face my mess and deal with it. I am too scared to ask God what I should do next. But I am going to do it anyway. He has never let me down before.

Statute of Limitations

Is there a statute of limitations when it comes to dating the ex of a friend?

This oh-so-awkward topic came up just yesterday when a close and dear girl friend asked me how I would feel about her going out with one of my exes from long ago. Apparently, they had started communicating just recently and he asked her out. Poor thing, I know it took her a while to even broach the subject with me. I mean, how do you bring that up with grace and tact? Not an easy thing to do, so I must give her credit there.

For a wee bit o' history on The Guy, this particular ex was one the great loves of my life. He entered my world when I was in a very dark place and like a beautiful, golden ray of light, he gave me the respect, love and grace that I had always wanted but never knew was possible. I know. But oh, it's true. We had a passionate, joyful, ecstatic love affair that felt right and true. It was the kind of relationship where I felt free to grow and discover my own likes and desires without having to suppress them for someone else. I still had a lot of personal healing to go through, but really we just accepted and loved each other. Simple. Needless to say, I was pretty devastated when we broke up.

A bit more history- The Girl Friend: We had been incredibly close for several years, BFF's and roommates with enough dirt on each other to make a fortune in blackmail $$ if either of us ever got rich, but with enough class and AtGFC (Adherance to Girl Friends Code) to never betray the other. "To the Grave" was one of our favorite mottos. Not long after the time that The Guy and I became a couple, The Girl Friend and I were beginning to move in separate directions. It was not because of anything against the other (as far as I know) but simply finding ourselves dealing with life and choosing different paths. So, when things with me and The Guy ended, The Girl Friend wasn't really aware of what it did to me. We had all but stopped talking to each other by that time.

OK, fast forward a few years. The Guy and I are talking occasionally, on amicable terms, and just at peace. The Girl Friend and I still hadn't spoken in years.

Fast forward another decade and change. The Girl Friend finds me on a social networking site, we "friend" each other, and start to repair what was broken. We find ourselves at a place in life where our friendship fits and makes sense and is really good again. It feels right. Apparently, this maturity thing is pretty good for the soul.

And now, this question of dating my ex appears, begging to be addressed. I don't wanna! (Ignore previous statement regarding maturity)

Logically, I know that I have absolutely no claims to this man. We literally haven't seen each other since we were in our 20's, and a lot has changed. 'Moving on' is an understatement! As far as I know, he is still a great guy and probably a really good catch. The Girl Friend is a beauty and deserves happiness as much as anyone else does. Why shouldn't they date? And if it works out, why shouldn't they find love together? Logically, I think, "What's the big deal?" Water under the bridge, etc. Emotionally, however, some weirdness definitely came up in me. And I do not mean my lunch.

After riding my personal roller coaster, I am finally settled about it all. Yes, he is a significant piece of my history. Yes, I loved him and have no regrets about that. And, yes, I realize that I have truly let him go. As for my friend, I honestly do want her to be happy... with him or with whoever is lucky enough to win her heart.

Unfinished Business

---------.

I need a kickstart, since my life seems to have stalled again. I know when it happened but am not sure yet how to get back to where I was going. I am at that point in the cycle where I just feel a bit lost, a bit off-track, and infinitely frustrated. Like I've crossed over the fine line between contentment and boredom and look around wholly displeased with where I'm standing, still undecided as to which foot to pick up first and where to go from here.

I've got way too much energy to be stagnant, and the longer I squander it the weirder I get and more annoyed I become with myself. All the more likely I am to do something stupid/regrettable. All I'm saying is that if this morphs into a week of truly bad poetry and too much alcohol, it's just not going to end well at all.

I know the things I enjoy and that bring me a deep sense of satisfaction, but I can't always do them. Unless I win the lottery and become insanely wealthy, thereby freeing me up to pay those remaining debts, travel and pour my life into helping the poor around the world. And it's clear that daydreaming about what I'd rather be doing borders on ridiculous, and amounts to filler. That isn't the life I want to live or the story I want to tell.

And back to the need for a kickstart:

Something new. Or, something old that didn't work out so well the first time around, or got set aside when I hit a wall with it. Unfinished business.

Write
Paint
Plan my escape
Grow pretty things
Make edible things
Rebuild
Break
Reinvent
Learn something
Find inspiration

The one thing I know right now is that something has to change, and I prefer to be the one doing the changing.

The Lame List

Things that either annoy, irritate, truly upset and/or piss me off, in no particular order:

Kids on a Leash
Bad Parents
Bad Drivers
Racists
Homophobes
Rude People
Mean People
Animal Cruelty
Hate Speech
Line Jumpers
Corruption
Cat Pee
Dogs That Won't Stop Barking (hello next door neighbors! geez)
Burnt Toast
Surgically Enhanced Body Parts for Cosmetic Purposes
Liars
Oversharing
My nervous energy, once it's kicked over into Obnoxious
Bullies
Creepers
Allergies
Freeloaders
Typos
Random Chaos
Savage Acts Committed in the Name of God, Allah, or anyone else

Coming Soon! The Awesome List

RIP Margarita and Otis

Otis the Bullfrog lived a happy life in my backyard pond. Raised from a tad, he was the smarter of the two and managed to keep himself from getting trapped in the filter basket time and time again (unlike his buddy, Jeremiah, who never made it to full-fledged frog). Otis grew into a fat, glorious bullfrog with an wonderful baritone and a delightful song. Listening to him sing was magical, and it brought a smile to my face every single time. Last week, he sang his final song.

I'm not exactly sure what happened. I suspect that he was trying to escape a predator, maybe an ambitious bird, and when he leaped into the water he over-shot his landing. At any rate, he got himself caught in the pump intake and was unable to survive. He croaked, and it sucks. (Replacing the pump for $500 wasn't so great either.) I totally miss hearing his song. It's just not the same.

Margarita the Hen also lived a happy life in the backyard. Of my three hens, she was the eldest (by two weeks) and largest. She quickly surrendered her Alpha Hen status when Fiesta stepped up and declared herself top of the pecking order. Margarita was a sweet natured and gentle bird, a good deal slower than her housemates. She never laid a single egg, though the other two lay almost every day. Although she somehow managed to find the mealworms first, she would just grab them in her beak and run away with them... not stopping to eat them for fear that Fiesta or Cholula would take it from her. Silly girl.

Over the last couple of weeks, I noticed that she was lagging behind more than usual and seeming to get lost in the yard. She would wander in the opposite direction of Fiesta and Cholula, then look around and call out for them in a forlorn voice. Last week, I heard a terrible commotion in the backyard while I was getting dressed for work. I looked out the window to see Fiesta and Cholula calling out frantically, while poor Margarita was lying on her back in the hen run.

I ran outside and sure enough, Margarita was gasping for air, unable to pick herself up off the ground. I quickly wrapped her up in an old towel and just held her, speaking softly to her as she faded away. A single tear fell from her eye as she gave her last breath. I'm not gonna lie, I kinda lost it. Afterwards, I wrapped her carefully and laid her to rest.

Rough week.

Animals are beautiful, and they add so much to our lives if we let them.

Kiss and Tell

I Kissed a Boy, and I Liked It.

Oh yes, I definitely did.

I'm not here to brag or boast, and I'm not going to share all the intimate details. But I am going to say that it was... Sweet. Romantic. Sexy. Hot! Really, really Wonderful. And, it left me wanting more.

I didn't expect it, and I don't know if anything will come of it. Maybe it will just be a hot fling and nothing more. Maybe we will begin to see each other regularly, and maybe the distance will just kill it. All I know is that I thoroughly enjoyed every minute with him, and I (not so) secretly hope he is feeling the same way... excited, a little nervous, happy... the butterflies.

XO, XO

Let There Be Butterflies!

So, I have this friend... let's call him "Jack". We were chatting recently and commiserating about our current (somewhat pathetic) love lives, about how hard it is to find someone that you "feel butterflies" for. (All together now: awww!)

I don't entirely understand how someone so attractive as Jack is still single. It puzzles me! He is smart, funny, artistic, kind-hearted, has lots of interests, and is very handsome (some might even say "hot"). Ladies, if you want, I will hook you up- just let me know and I will review your resume.

By his own admission, he has a couple of barriers in place: holding extremely high--um, possibly unrealistic-- standards and not letting people get in too close. I actually got super sad when he told me this because Jack's just one of those guys that I have a real soft spot in my heart for, and I want to see him happy and in love. I mean, if we've learned anything from LOST it is that love is the most important thing in life; it is what connects us all, the only thing worth living or dying for.

Back to the butterflies. I totally agree with Jack that without that special, magical chemistry between two people, that nervous, butterflies-in-the-belly feeling that someone special causes you to feel when you are around him/her, the Love Train just isn't going to leave the station. And it's not something that can be forced, faked, or manufactured. Call it chemistry, call it butterflies, call it crazy- but it is unmistakable. It can happen instantly or it can start as a tiny spark and develop over time, but for me... for Jack... for pretty much anyone with the freedom to choose who they will give their heart to, it just has to be there. Who is to say that something that starts out so magical, so unexpected, cannot grow into the kind of love that lasts a lifetime, the kind that is a verb and outlasts external beauty and internal hurts? Isn't this the kind of love that we long for, even if we fear we will never experience it?

It would be easier in the short-term to brush this off as nonsense and just decide that love like this doesn't really exist, that it's nothing more than lust, but I disagree. I think that is a cop-out, a defense mechanism that We Who Have Been Burned use to keep our wounded hearts safe from future damage. But this wall around our hearts only does us more harm than good, and closes us off to the opportunity for love-- beautiful, ridiculous, stunning love. Two-way street love. Redemptive love. Second-chance love. Rare, yes, maybe. But REAL.

Jack, my friend, please do keep your heart open. And let there be butterflies for us all.