Weep the life

"Occasionally, weep deeply over the life that you hoped would be. Grieve the losses. Feel the pain. Then wash your face, trust God, and embrace the life that he’s given you" - John Piper

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Sometimes the words hurt too much to write. I've been working on this post off and on in my heart for a few weeks, even before the events it directly addresses, because I knew. I knew for so long what needed to happen, but I knew too what I so deeply wished would happen instead. So here I am, sitting at my computer waiting for the words to gush out of me, and they want to, but with each stroke on the keys, my heart squeezes a little, and I gulp down harder and harder to stop the tears.

"look up, look up, stop the tears." my family probably thinks I'm insane, I flurry across the board, pounding out all that's in my heart, and then I pause, choke back all that's threatening to rise out of me, and ponder what I've said already.

Doctor Piper's word of encouragement frees me to feel how I am feeling, and allow and accept that I can weep over a life I hoped for, that is no longer for certain mine to obtain. The story I am trying to tell today is years in the making, and years from completion- the horizon of it isn't just blurry- I cannot see it. My faith doesn't shine that far. As I have so often done here lately, this post is requiring me to bare my soul, to cut open my heart and lay it out to be seen. It hurts to keep it in, and I know that that hurts worse- but oh to open up- how painful those cuts can be. And yet how freeing once its out, and I can wash my face and live the life I've been given.

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As it happened only a few weeks ago, moments after I ended the relationship I had at one time ardently believed would end in marriage, my phone buzzes with a picture from one of my dearest friends. He'd popped the question, and his girl had said yes. They found their forevers in each other, and I rejoice with them. But in that moment, the weight of their joy sat heavier on me than anything I had ever felt before, and I wept, loudly. Parting yourself from someone forever is a unique kind of sadness. Although we had fallen in love, he had become my best friend, and I wasn't just losing my potential mate- I was losing the person I had come to value more than anyone else. I understood why wolves howl mournfully when they lose one of the members of their pack- that hurt is deeper than comprehension. So there I sat, with that anguish oozing over me head to toe.

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Goals are tricky things. You have so little control over so many variables that go into accomplishing them, and when you don't reach the goal, you can feel something of a failure. At least I know I do. And yet, in spite of this, every year on my birthday I think, "this is it. This is the year I finally settle down." I soak in the blessings my dad prays over me, gobble up the wishes my sisters write to me, and ponder the kind words others leave for me- and I just build up in my heart, a foolish amount of certainty, that this is the year I find my forever.

It was in my serendipitous thinking a few birthdays ago, that the age 25 settled onto my heart. I don't know why, but since then I had it fixed in my head that by 25 I was going to be married, or at least engaged. To be a wife and mom has always been my dream. And even when I have let that dream be influenced, the core of it never wavered. I want a family of my own. Of this, I have always been absolutely certain.

But when 25 rolled around and I was so very far from either of those things, I thought "well maybe just during this year!" So I stumbled into this year with high hopes and a bit of a ragged heart. When I found a guy who, at least on paper, ticked most of the right boxes, I jumped.

I jumped headfirst and all in to the relationship I thought was going to be it. I don't feel up to regurgitating the whole of the past few months, but giving it up wasn't just giving up my relationship, it was failing myself.

I was failing because I knew my life wasn't going to look how I had been hoping and planning. It was devastating on every conceivable level for me. For several years, I have been elevating this year as the ONE. And now it's not.

And I have wept over the life I thought would be.

I don't even know where I am hoping this post ends, other than hopefully someone else feels freed up to grieve the life they thought would be.

Weep.

Wash your face.

Live the life you've been given.

Sincerely,

M