To be honest, I haven't been too friendly with God lately. At times, I've felt that instead of testing me to make me a better person, God has just been trying to turn me into more and more of a cynic. I know my tendency toward hopeless romanticism can sometimes be my downfall, but is it really necessary to crush every last trace of it? This growing pessimism is definitely becoming a problem regarding romantic relationships. Whenever I meet someone who interests me, a part of me thinks, "this is too good to be true," and every time I've thought this, that part has been right. So far, my fears about relationships have only been justified, and I wonder how many more years I'll have to wait before they're finally disproved. I've been told that each negative experience can be a good thing, that each failed relationship is a lesson learned, and in a sense, I know it's true, but it hurts so much to hear that. I think it's because this advice dehumanizes the person you lost and takes the life out of what you experienced with them, or at least that's what it feels like. You want so much to have a real and lasting connection with a person, to hear and see and feel them next to you, but instead they become just another "lesson learned"--not a person anymore, but a moment, a concept, a page in your life never quite turned. They've dissolved from a living person inhabiting your life into a wisp of wisdom. They still live somewhere in the clouds of your mind, but they've floated far above your fingers.
In the past, I've rarely complained about being single, despite various romantic misfortunes. In fact, for a time I thought being single was rather fun. I enjoyed the independence and the excitement of going out and meeting people. I'd hear other people bemoan their singleness and think: "What's the big deal? It's not so bad." But now I fully understand how they feel. It's like the line in that Janis Joplin song "Me and Bobby McGee": "Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose." Why does it hurt so much more than it used to?
Anyway, back to the church service. The preacher, when discussing Saul's transformation from hopeless sinner to model Christian, essentially made the point that God's vision is infinitely vast compared to our own, and that He sees things about us and our future that we could never know. The preacher also emphasized that in order to become the person God wanted him to be, Saul had to undergo a complete and painful transformation: from someone able-bodied and politically powerful, to a sickly, blind man completely reliant on those around him. I do feel like this message spoke to me, but not in the deep, mighty, voice-of-God-like way you might expect. It felt more like a gentle nudge, or a tap on the shoulder. It wasn't life-changing, but felt like it could be the beginning of a long sequence of things that could ultimately be life-changing. I hope so. I want to believe this brokenness is supposed to make me a better person. I guess it already has, in a small way; I've been more creative since my last relationship ended than I've been in months. My job is offering more opportunities, I'm blogging regularly, and I even wrote a song. I just wish I weren't doing all these things to fend off loneliness and regret; it would be nice to always have the motivation to be creative for its own sake.
Tonight, I walked down to the pond near my house and saw the unusually clear sky. Stars glittered over the black water and lacy silhouettes of trees. Sometimes I wish the future were as clear as that sky. I hope there's a bright horizon up ahead that I'm just not tall enough to see. I hope I'm on the road to my own personal Damascus.
In the past, I've rarely complained about being single, despite various romantic misfortunes. In fact, for a time I thought being single was rather fun. I enjoyed the independence and the excitement of going out and meeting people. I'd hear other people bemoan their singleness and think: "What's the big deal? It's not so bad." But now I fully understand how they feel. It's like the line in that Janis Joplin song "Me and Bobby McGee": "Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose." Why does it hurt so much more than it used to?
Anyway, back to the church service. The preacher, when discussing Saul's transformation from hopeless sinner to model Christian, essentially made the point that God's vision is infinitely vast compared to our own, and that He sees things about us and our future that we could never know. The preacher also emphasized that in order to become the person God wanted him to be, Saul had to undergo a complete and painful transformation: from someone able-bodied and politically powerful, to a sickly, blind man completely reliant on those around him. I do feel like this message spoke to me, but not in the deep, mighty, voice-of-God-like way you might expect. It felt more like a gentle nudge, or a tap on the shoulder. It wasn't life-changing, but felt like it could be the beginning of a long sequence of things that could ultimately be life-changing. I hope so. I want to believe this brokenness is supposed to make me a better person. I guess it already has, in a small way; I've been more creative since my last relationship ended than I've been in months. My job is offering more opportunities, I'm blogging regularly, and I even wrote a song. I just wish I weren't doing all these things to fend off loneliness and regret; it would be nice to always have the motivation to be creative for its own sake.
Tonight, I walked down to the pond near my house and saw the unusually clear sky. Stars glittered over the black water and lacy silhouettes of trees. Sometimes I wish the future were as clear as that sky. I hope there's a bright horizon up ahead that I'm just not tall enough to see. I hope I'm on the road to my own personal Damascus.
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