Day 119

Life.  I don’t even know how to sum up where I am at this point in the OYC.

Vacation was amazing.  I spent time with my family and friends.  I didn’t get to see everyone, and those I didn’t see (Rebekah, Andrea, and Fred) were missed, but all in all, it was a much better trip than I anticipated.

Challenge-wise, a few things changed in my heart while I was there.  Two major points of notation were the Soarin’ Over California ride and watching Eat Pray Love.

During this first moment is when I realized that not being married, not having kids, and not having a white picket fence wouldn’t leave me paralyzed in some land of unfulfillment.   Instead, for the first time, I think being single excited me.  One door closed meant I could pay attention to the other doors that are open: traveling, exploring the world, seeing new things, experiencing new things, cruises, shopping—Jamie-revolving-dreams, not family-revolving dreams.  Sounds a little selfish, but each person has their own path and none of us were promised the same thing. 

The second moment is during the movie, Eat Pray Love.  Delia looks at her best friend, the now-divorced, Liz Gilbert, who is about to embark on an amazing journey, and says she loves her husband, loves her baby, loves her life…but she so desperately wishes she could just up and go, too.  And it hit me.  The grass is always greener.  I’ve heard it before; the singles wish they were married, and the married wish they were single.  Being single isn’t a death sentence.  Moms have opportunities, single women have opportunities—they’re just different opportunities.  And I was, like, “Okay, that makes sense.  I can be happy like this.”

So while I’m at peace with not dating right now, the rest of my life has decided to tumble.  California brought me to a very good place in that respect, but left my heart aching in other ways.  I have never so desperately missed my family.  And my friends in California.  We grow up and older each year, and while it’s beautiful to see, I can’t shake the feeling of the ticking of the clock.  Life is short.  Where do I need to be spending it?

One of my customers came in on Friday and asked me about my trip.  I told her my feelings, and she said, “When you’re not settled down, you have the opportunity [to move if you want to].  It’s one of the perks.”  And that made it all the more tempting and realistic to think about moving back to California.

But then what about my life in Memphis?  Maybe my time here is passing.  Tabitha has moved away.  Micaela has moved away.  April is moving away.  And other friends are growing—and I’m so proud of them.  Paths are shifting and it’s hard to stay in each other’s lives.  But I also have so many people in my life, it’s hard to keep up with them all.

I’m so tired, God.  Just tired.  I feel like I’ve been moving full-speed for the last year and a half.  I don’t know what happened that I’m always doing something and don’t have time…I just don’t have it, and not having time leads to not having energy.  I don’t want to be a bad friend, but not leaving people hanging has become such a struggle. 

And I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know how to learn about You, disciple others, still have a social life, work 40 hours a week, not live in the same city as my family, take care of two dogs, own and operate a working car, live alone in an apartment, have a community group, have a small group, and be a member of a church all at the same time.

I’m breaking, God.

I’m not a good multi-tasker at all, and I’m failing.  I’m failing and I’m sinking, and I don’t know what to do or which direction my heart is pulling.

Please help me know.

Day 80

For the last two months, I’ve ridden the tracks of forgiveness.

On my OYC train, I determined early on it was forgiveness that was going to grow me.

But last night, as my friend and I delved into my past, it became obvious that forgiveness was not for what my heart was searching.  So what was it, this ache so deep, so unnerving?

Wheels turning, heart idle, I replayed scenes, emotions, and thoughts from my life at home in California.

Tempers birthed damaging words.  Infidelity ushered away intimacy.  Absence and neglect grew canyons of nonchalance and defensiveness.

The actions hurt.  But the underlying pain is not the actions themselves.  It is the message my heart received.

YOU ARE NOT LOVED.

The resounding ache of the pain is not the yelling or lying or indifference—though those things do hurt.  It is what they meant, what I saw them to mean.  As a daughter—as their daughter—I was not loved.

And I have spent my life searching for that love I never received.

It wasn’t until God swooped me into His arms, proclaiming, “I love you!” that my weary, destructive, sad search ended.  Only then did I feel loved.  Real love.

Real love.  Worldly love.  There is not even a balance on that scale.  Perfect love and imperfect love.

Somewhere God was whispering to my heart that an act of forgiveness would not heal the relationship with my parents.  Forgiveness implies there is someone to blame, and I don’t blame my parents.  Dominos in the line of Adam, we do not possess the ability to love perfectly, especially those of the world who have not heard the Gospel.

It wasn’t until I even knew the love of God that I could begin to love others.  How could I blame my family for living of the world when they were not shown any differently?  C.S. Lewis shares this in Mere Christianity:

“And if you have taken a wrong turning, then to go forward does not get you any nearer.  If you are on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; and in that case the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive man.”

I took a wrong turn long, long ago on the road of love.  Being adopted into the family of Christ, my life has been reset.  Flying to California in February is in essence my opportunity to about-turn and try again with this new love in my heart.

I am not searching out love in my parents.  My heart is full in Christ.  And because my heart is full, I am free to love them, knowing that I’m not depending on them or their love or their inability to love.

Progressive love.  Purposeful love.  Intentional love.  I am no longer bound by my unlovedness, but overflowing in the love of Christ.

And I pray, dear God, that You help me intentionally love and honor my family.

“[Love] is selfless, sacrificial, and transformational.  And when love is truly demonstrated as it was intended, your relationship is more likely to change for the better.”  The Love Dare, Stephen and Alex Kendrick