There's a voice inside of me, quiet but insistent, telling me that if I could only get things right, nothing would need to change. No wonder I experience every change as a personal failure, a preventable loss. I didn't get it right. My best was not enough. I... was not enough. It's so destructive. It's so alluring. Rooted firmly in pride and control (two of my closest companions), and thank God it will never work. If it even looked true long enough, it would do violence to my soul.
It's a longing for heaven, right? I think that's what I'm supposed to say. Part of this protracted transition has been about losing touch - on purpose - with phrases that have become empty of their content to me. Overused and too easily cross-stitched, the words can become veils over meaning. Instead of leading the way to truth, they can be barriers. I need space and time to breathe life back into those phrases because I need them now.
Where was I? Yes, longing for heaven. Which is to say wishing aggressively that I could have right now the peace and stability and unchanging experience of loving and being loved, all in the context of being certain that my life has meaning and purpose. If it isn't possible to attain here and now, then I really should stop fighting for it, but I suck at not fighting. Well, I suck at picking my battles. There are plenty of things I need to fight. Fight to stop building sand castles in the paths of tsunamis. Fight to stop digging my heels in when I see change coming. Fight to stop being surprised at disappointment and, for the love of all that is holy, to stop taking it all so personally. It's time to tune out the voices that build up insecurity and false hope, and to listen to the only One that is leading me home.