I am an observer, a questioner, a noticer. I am a wanderer. I observe life and I constantly ask the “why” questions.
When I was at the beach earlier this past fall, it occurred to me that since processing through my divorce and new dating relationships, I have wasted energy worrying and thinking about how very impossible it feels to truly trust someone again with my heart.
What is most ironic is that it is natural and innate within me to trust. I tend to trust too much actually. I am the person that gives out too much information and invites people in too quickly. It’s just how I’m wired. But I have been fighting that innate instinct with the very real m fear of being badly hurt again.
The truth is my thoughts are constantly in conflict with one another; I can become my own worst enemy.
I sat on the beach by myself on that evening in the fall and stared up at the stars. It was serene and silent and near close to perfect. But I was alone. I ached because it wasn’t ideal, to be alone. But as time passed, I realized it was exactly where I needed to be.
I sat and stared at the stars thinking about other nights I spent under the stars. And I prayed. I desperately want to know God is listening to me. I want to know He has a plan and everything is going to be fine and I won’t ever get hurt again. So I tested him. Because isn’t that exactly what he tells us not to do?
I bartered with him and thought, God if you’re listening, send me a shooting star while I’m out here.
I so wish He had. I wish I could say God heard me and my wish came true. But as I continue to learn, having faith isn’t wishing on stars. Having faith is trusting, even in the question marks and fighting through the fears.
What I love most about question marks is what follows them: a response. Responses are filled with hope. Responses take away fear and replace the fear with answers and truth.
When my life changed a year and a half ago, I held on with all my might to hope. I fought through a lot of question marks about my future and Owen’s future.
I continue to struggle with my deepest fear- what if the hope that I have been holding on to most doesn’t exist? What if I get deeply hurt again?
But in the doubt and questioning, there is so much hope in the waiting to see how life turns out. Half the fun of an adventure is the anticipation of what comes next. I lose sight of that sometimes because I want to rush to the end.
So for now as I continue along this beautiful but unknown journey, I no longer want to doubt that good will continue to enter my life, because so much of it already has. I currently have a lot of joy and love in my life.
I am hyper-aware that with this abundant love and joy comes the risk of getting hurt. But I also trust myself enough to make smart and sound decisions about my future. And I believe that love is worth the risk. After all, there is a reason it’s called falling right? Because sometimes we just have to let go.