In the past two months, I have watched my plans slip through my fingers like sand. It has been an exhausting rollercoaster, from having to push my stomach down from my throat, to having to pick up what's left of my heart off the floor. I am in the midst of, once again, putting my hopes and dreams on the back-burner, letting go of what I thought was absolutely certain, and realizing:
a break-up doesn't mean I'm broken.
I have always fallen in love too fast. I was the one that was rearranging my life, making unwise decisions, putting myself in dangerous and complicated situations, all for the satisfaction of feeling 'wanted'. My past is very far from pristine, no matter how 'godly' and 'churchy' and 'upright' I appeared. Until my coming to Afghanistan, I was a very lost individual. I played the game, I knew what to say or how to act, that would get my desires fulfilled. I was a hologram of the person I felt others wanted me to be. I was influenced into any situation for the sake of 'being accepted', and I have paid many hefty prices for that character flaw...some of which I am still paying today.
What I find most mysterious about this flaw is that everyone could see it. Except me.
When I came to Afghanistan, I was presented with situations and circumstances that changed my perception. My plane crash in Kandahar, my Dad's car accident on the same day and my inability to do anything about it but pray from halfway around the world (and the recurring health problems he now faces as a result), civil uprise due to war (Soldier shooting 16 Afghan civilians in cold-blood in Kandahar, the burning of Korans in Kabul); the highs of being in a new place, learning about new cultures, and being able to travel the world, coupled with the debilitating lows of homesickness, helplessness, and the lack of control. The latter of which has refined me the most.
'The lack of control' really is an all-encompassing phrase; it it simply more apparent here. As the days press on, I realize more fully and deeply the profound lack of control I have. I don't have any control over the situation with Brandon, I have no control over how he feels or copes with his circumstance. I could go on about the things I don't have control over, but the point is that I DO have control over one facet:
Myself.
I have control over the way I choose to respond to situations. In my past, I chose to respond carelessly, with no regard to myself or others. This has broken relationships with people that I truly care for; some of those people are reappearing in my life now. Others are not. It has cost me financially, left me spiritually dead, emotionally broken, and has nearly cost me my life. My lack of regard for myself or others has now cost me my relationship with Brandon...my foolishness prior to my realization.
It's really quite the paradox...when you feel that you're in control is when you have the least control. And when you relinquish that fault to God and trust that He is ultimately in control, there is immense freedom from the bondage of puppeteering. But, I can't say that God "finally answered my prayer", although don't misunderstand, I was praying. It wasn't that He came swooping down and, in a moment of fiery glory, fixed what was broken in me. What He did instead, though, was present me with open doors, hold my hand and lead me like a child, so I could have the opportunity to learn.
And that in itself is of the most value. If He walked with me through all of this...
What else would He do if I just gave Him the chance to work in me? I'm almost too scared to know, but the anticipation of the journey prompts me...
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