04-07-08

I was so conflicted yesterday. About us. And you are right. Girls do complicate things. Relationships should be honest, straight forward, truthful. And, for the most part, I think you are trying to do that. I am the one that is throwing a wrench into things. I am just so confused. I like you—and that terrifies me. But, you already know, and I have already acted on that feeling. And now, instead of just enjoying things, I am analyzing them. Analyzing every detail. I feel myself pulling away—hysically and emotionally. I try to keep things on a certain level, because I feel like this is how I am supposed to act. I can’t let you know how terrified I am of you. Of what you represent, and mean to my life. I am no longer Angela, girl in control of her heart, mind and world. I am Angela, confused, scared, powerless. And I can’t live with that. To be powerless is the ultimate sign of weakness, it is the ultimate sign of a disorderly and out of control world. I need to talk to you about how I feel. Let you know just how confused I am. Let you know that I am a mess—a mass of jumbled emotions. I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night. But not in a good way.
I let you touch me—not in a bad way. You just rubbed my shoulders for a while. And as nice as it was, I was acutely aware of your hands on my shoulders. It gave me butterflies. But not good ones. Uncomfortable ones. I was scared. I AM scared. What do you expect? It is wrong for me to be so protective of my self, and my physical space? And, furthermore, why am I so terrified to let you touch me? Especially if it is an appropriate touch—a hug, a shoulder rub, a squeezed hand…
I don’t understand myself, and I can’t seem to pinpoint the source of all of this fear. I am afraid of you. Afraid of what you will do to me—hysically, emotionally, mentally. Our relationship was like a friendship. But I feel like I have ruined things, because now, we aren’t friends. We are something more. And, try as I might, I can’t erase that fact from my mind, and I can’t seem to relate to you on that comfortable level of mutual acceptance and emotion.
I feel like I have to put on an act for you. I can’t let you know how scared I am of you. That would hurt you. But, the thing is, it is not personal. It really isn’t. I would like to be able to hug you, to share an embrace, to hold hands. But, the idea of physical contact so intimidates me that I remain frozen—unable to act, to move, to think. And I don’t know what to do. Even now, I feel like I am hurting you, because I am no longer seeking you out. Because all I want to do is get away from you, and away from the feelings that you create in me. I have never let myself feel this way before. And I can feel myself pulling away. Putting up barriers, blocks, walls. And I don’t want to put them up, but I feel like I have to, to protect myself. I have to protect myself from the world, from things I can’t control. Because if I don’t protect myself, no one else will. It is me against the world. I know that God is supposed to protect me, but my faith is faltering right now. I struggle with this idea. And I have ever since Sarah died. She was Wayne’s daughter, only three years old. And when I heard about the accident, I thought, “God wouldn’t let that happen…not to Wayne.” And I was so secure in that knowledge, so absolutely sure that God would make Sarah well…and then, 4 days later, she died. She died. This precious child, who filled Wayne’s life with such joy. God let her die. And I don’t understand that. If God choose not to protect Wayne and Becky from this tragedy, and choose to let Sarah die, how can I trust Him to protect me? How can I trust him to protect me from all the terrible, sick, twisted, hateful, despicable things of this world, if he let such a precious child die? And ever since then, I cannot seem to reconcile the idea of a caring, loving, wonderful God with the same God who let a child die. I know that God loves me—he has continued to show me that he does, continued to show me his immense power, continued to show me that he is big enough to handle my problems, worries, doubts. But, is he big enough to handle my fears? I am so afraid. Funny, I wouldn’t normally think of myself as a fearful person. But, when I get right down to it, when I truly and honestly search myself, I find that I am afraid. Very afraid. Afraid of many things. Failure, rape, physical harm, emotional instability—and I an not just afraid for myself. I am afraid for my friends, my family. For, if something terrible were to happen to them, how can I reconcile those circumstances with a loving and caring God?
My mother says that there are three things that rule the world. God, Satan, and natural events. Natural events that simply take place due to cause and effect, and the results of living in a fallen world. But, if God is truly omnipotent and omnipresent, doesn’t he have control of those natural events? Doesn’t he still hold those things in the palm of his hand? And if so, couldn’t and doesn’t he influence them?
I suppose I have stumbled upon the age old question: why do bad things happen to good people? And, I have no answer for it. I am trying to understand God. To understand why such an event had to happen, but God is unfathomable. And I am reminded that all I see is a small sliver—a tiny piece of the whole picture. While God, he sees the whole picture, and maybe, in the scheme of things, Sarah dying needed to happen, for some segment of the picture to be complete. But, I still don’t understand it, and I probably never will—at least, not until I get to heaven and can ask Jesus myself…but it is so difficult to be content with the here and now. With those answers that we do have, when questions, such as this one, weigh so heavily upon the mind…
SIGH…I do not know…and some part of me is glad, I suppose. For to have all the answers would make the need for God obsolete. So, I suppose, in the large scheme of things, such questions must exist, in order to make us aware of how little we know, and of how terribly we need a Savior. A greater power, something to believe in beyond ourselves, beyond our petty fears, and heart breaks. Something—or someone who HAS ultimate control. And who can never be surprised, attacked, or shaken in any way. Someone solid—someone we can cling to when the world crumbles to ash beneath our feet, and all our big plans, so gland and glittering in self importance, are crushed beneath the weight of harsh reality, the reality that we live in a fallen world. A world of sin and corruption. But there is one thing that is not corrupted, and cannot be corrupted. Jesus Christ, his death, and his resurrection….
All in all, I don’t think that that is a bad thing to hold on to. I keep telling myself that I will eventually get to a point where I can trust Him with my life, and everything in it. But it doesn’t work that way. How can God show you he is big enough when you don’t take a step of faith? I stand before a ledge, and ask God to give me a sign of his presence, his power. I stand in safety and expect God to do miraculous things. But it is only when I leap from the ledge that he can truly catch me, and in so doing, demonstrate His awesome power, love, and trustworthiness. Because, truth be told, I will never be at a place where I feel completely comfortable trusting Him. So I have to be the one to act first. I have to choose to trust Him, and then wait for his loving kindness, and faithfulness to be demonstrated—which I know without a doubt He will do.
Trusting that he is big enough to take my fears, and—the more difficult part, that He is able and willing to protect me from harm. And that if harm comes, he will give me the strength to get through it and overcome it….