Life is different than any of us think. We have our plans. We have our people. Plans change. Faces around us change too. And inside ourselves we sometimes find that what we wanted in the moment has become something we abhor within us like a sliver throbbing to be plucked out, a demon to be exercised.
My plans have not gone to plan. None of them. Not a one except this: I needed to be made stronger. God tells us that patience is worked through the trying of our faith. Mine has been tried. Actually, it continues to be tried every day. It's probably because I refuse to accept the point of the lesson. What a school teacher God is! Relentless that we learn; demanding that we see that He really is looking out for us.
For example.
I have hated living at home for a while now. But then I began to realize that home has been a reprieve for me. I have sorted out a lot of myself in the last 5 months since camp. Eons of pain I had buried just under the surface enough to ignore. I guess God also reveals. I have had my apocalypse. My heart has been a playing ground for darkness and the sounds of wailing in the distance as I try to pluck my existence from the scorched ground that is left over. I have come to the realization that I have been hindering the grass from growing again because I have gotten used to how things are. I want the bright future I have glimpsed but I for whatever reason cannot quite work hard enough to let it happen.
It needs to happen.
And why shouldn't it? To listen to a symphony is to say that one is not afraid to feel the tears the violins are trying to wring out of their audience. I have my tears. I need my symphony back.
