All things new

Things have been pretty rough, lately. There have been some complicaitons with the ex: comlications that have made it rather difficult for me to dis-entangle myself. I am trying with a desperate fervancy to maintain my sense of separation. I need time and space to heal from all of this: a need that is hard to meet when the cause of that need persists in trying to contact me and reconnect. I worry for him; I pray for him; I wish I could mend the pain and frustration he's going through - but I can't. I'm not a savior: for myself or anyone else. God is the only one who can bring me any healing in this mess: I'm praying that God will be able to do the same for all other parties involved.

I spent Easter Sunday at Northland listening to Pastor Joel Hunter preach. Fantastic sermon. In the wake of everything that's happened, things have been rather hard lately. I am still reeling from the death of a dream; I am heartbroken because I know my former fiance is hurting - as am I. I have found myself struggling to hang on to the truth, to that oh-so-often quoted passage from Jeremiah: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord. In the face of all I've lost - the love, the dreams, the self-esteem - it has been easy for me to get lost in the mourning.

Pastor Joel's Easter sermon, though, reminded me of a truth I had long forgotten about: after death, ressurection will come. His reminder to the congregation that "we can't get so caught up in what we've lost that we don't see what's right in front of us" was an apt one - one that speaks directly to where I'm at right now. He referenced Mary at the tomb and her inability to recognize Jesus when he spoke to her: she was so busy being distruaght that the failed to see that Jesus - the one she was longing for - was standing right in front of her.

When Pastor Joel talked about how Jesus spoke to Mary at the tomb, I could mentally see God asking me the same question: "Megan, why are you weeping?" God - my hope, my life, my validation, my love - was there the whole time: I was just so busy grieving that I missed him. He's been right here with me - all I had to do was be willing to actually look for him instead of drowning him out and looking away.

Especially in light of my recent grad school failure, I have been trying to re-evaluate where I am headed. I tried to plan out my life my way: everything fell apart. I am now trying to find the courage to surrender to whatever it is God might have in store for me. Luckily, part of me is irrepressibly excited about the future: new options, new choices, an endless parade of possibilities stretched out before me that I never had before (or, rather, never opened myself up to before). The endless sense of entrapment I've been buried under for the past several months is giving way to a delicious feeling of freedom.

Though it hurts my pride and my heart, maybe there is a reason I didn't get into grad school for Creative Writing. Maybe it was the wrong season or the wrong place. Maybe I was meant to do something else entirely - and my writing was meant to merely be a side enjoyment of mine. I am sincerely trying to allow my old tendencies - the fear of failure, the need to "prove" myself in the "real" world, etc - to stay nailed to the cross. Amibition and desire aren't bad: but chasing them at the exclusion of everything else most certainly falls into that category. It was my fear of letting go of my dreams, my desires, my wants, that allowed me to end up so heartbroken and far from both God and hope in the first place. I've tried it my way and experienced the pain that brings.

My gut-feeling is that - since there's nothing left to lose, no other dream to shatter, no other plan to fall apart -now is the time for me to let go of my fears and my pride and do things God's way. There is no better time for me to fully commit, to fully let God have control of my life. I need to let go of the false fear that somehow, by letting God lead, I will end up miserable, unfulfilled, and unhappy: that's what happened when I was in control. The worst I could imagine is what occurred when God was out of my life: not in it. I only pray I can be granted the strength to stand in the truth and recognize that. This particular issue is one that, as far as my life is concerned, doesn't like to stay dead; instead of being nailed down, it likes to ressurect itself like a ravenous zombie and, a la Resident Evil, tries to eat me whole.

I have no interest in being zombie food.

I am still hurting; I am still working through my sorrow. Some of the anger and heartache I've been harboring run deep, and I am struggling to give them over to God. Though it was not easy to hear, Pastor Joel's sermon provided me with a window of hope that I haven't dared to look out of in a long time. I'm so grateful for the reminder that, though I may be reeling from the death of my dreams right now, a ressurection will come. It may not be the way I expected it; it might not be exactly what I planned, but I am trusting that it will be what God has planned from the beginning and - if I will simply open my eyes to what God places in my life - I can eventually experience the same joy that Mary found that first Easter morning.