I’ve been listening to a lot of Ben Folds. He’s pretty much amazing. I tried to get concert tickets for next month when he’ll be in Indy, but the show was sold out. :( I cried.
I’m definitely in a holding pattern right now. There are many big decisions on my horizon, but none of them present themselves immediately. I’m just watching and waiting for the flag to drop, for the shot to fire, so I can be off the blocks and running. But I’m no track star. Heck, I’m not even on the sidelines.
At yesterday’s conference, Matt Connor spoke about God’s Will saying he thinks Satan loves nothing more than when we sit around on our butts waiting for a sign from God, fretting about our purpose.
Just go!
But where?
Wherever you want.
But what do I want?
Ooo… That’s a toughie.
And then there’s last Wednesday when Beth Moore told my Bible study group (via DVD) that waiting is NOT idle time. That’s what patience is all about. So maybe I’m growing right now. I don’t know, but it hurts.
The calloused woman-of-the-world inside of me says, “Good. Use that to your advantage. Whatever does not kill you makes you stronger. And, by the way, you look damn good in a power suit.”
“Kill your desire to be loved/important/remembered/enjoyed,” she says. “It’ll just bring you heartache. Women today have more choices than that.”
I wish she was right. The truth is I looked for validation there once and what I got was a pretty convincing counterfeit, but a counterfeit nonetheless.
A couple weeks ago, I was crying to Margaret. The good Gestaltist inside was saying that my turmoil was my fault for building expectations. Margaret wisely informed me that part of trusting is expecting something. If trust is an essential aspect of relationship then we cannot survive by eliminating expectation. Take that, Fritz Perls.
The ache is still there, but I acknowledge it, I feel it. And I will until it goes away.
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