Monday, June 22, 2009

Limbo

Ever feel as though you're stuck in limbo? I am pretty sure you have at some point in your life...

Well, if you can't quite remember what it feels like, let me describe it for you...


This weekend I was in a wedding for a very dear friend of mine, and, as I had the opportunity to tell her the night before her wedding day, she was beginning a new chapter in her life. She would be leaving her crazy single days for a long and happy life with a man that she would be putting before her every decision, she left the self-absorbed for the sacrificial. I can't really think of anyone more ready for that choice....
Well, limbo is the feeling of being between chapters... it is when one phase of your life is ending and you have absolutely no clue what's next... A secular mindset would remedy this problem by pointing out that because we have control over our own lives, then we can simply write the next chapter of our life. Since I thirst for control, this particular mindset would be not only appealing, but also logical to me. As both an unfortunate and fortunate consequence to my committment to the God of all creation, I have been granted absolutely NO control over how my life will play out.

As I go through this summer chock-full of weddings, I can't help but feel in limbo. Not because I expect the next chapter of my life to be marriage, but rather because it seems as though so many people already know what their next chapter is, whereas I have absolutely no clue...

I am currently sitting in the Lynchburg Regional Airport, and I can't help but think of all the transitions that I have made in my life. It reminds me of the first time I moved out of the state of Florida, and to a whole new country: Holland. I remember the trips I would make back to the U.S.; little reminders of the fact that life was continuing here while I was over there. I remember the move back to the U.S., a plane trip that started off as a summer vacation and ended with cardboard boxes and a three month recovery from lung cancer for my father. I remember my flight to Lynchburg for the very first time over four years ago, craving the adventure of yet another new place to call home...

Well, my flight is boarding... so i don't really have a great conclusion...

Monday, June 1, 2009

All Good Things Must Come to an End

All good things must come to an end...

Who conjured such a phrase? A realist, surely. Someone who knew that every moment that was spent in a state of elation would do just that: end...

Unfortunately, I came to the realization that I share this philosophy with its creator. As a result, an overwhelming sense of regret has recently washed over me. Something in me sparked when I realized that whenever a good thing happens to me, I don't necessarily focus on the blessing or the gratitude that I should feel, but rather I experience a blessing with a sense of expectancy for that gift to be either taken away from me, or come to an abrupt and painful halt...

My cat is going to be put to sleep this week. This shouldn't be such a big deal, but well, it kind of is... She's a dutch cat named Marika. I held her in my arms when I was eleven years old, and she was eight weeks. She was the gift my parents gave me when I was alone, depressed and completely friendless in a foreign country. She is my friend, and the only one I have had for this long.

I once told a good friend of mine that I have not had (until somewhat recently) a close friend in my life for a span of longer than two years. Moving around the world, college, and parting paths have been the cause of this. In some of the closer relationships in my life there was a falling out, or an intervention on the part of God.

Maybe this is stupid to cry over, but to be completely honest, that cat has been my constant companion for eleven years. She used to sleep at my head every night, curled up in a ball, until we realized I was allergic to cats that is. She has always slept beside me when I have been ill, or sad, comforting me in the only way she knew how - by rubbing her hairy little body all over my face... This later became a trick that I taught her to do in which the end result was her licking my face in a very canine manner (not only was this absolutely adorable to be, but also yielded a much more allergen-free method of affection). Marika has been there during my darkest hours, spending hours on end in my room with me, ignoring meals just as I was.

The truth is, something very good is coming to an end, and just knowing that has caused me to think over the several friendships, and even family members that I have lost these past twenty-one years. Yes, all good things come to an inevitable end, at least on Earth, but the truth is that I have been given a new gift: the awakening to this fact and the ability to change my perspective on future blessings.