Be careful what you wish for...

Today was filled with a topsy twirl of emotions. It was angry and harsh, cold, hard, and mean. It was sad and solemn, tear-stained and somber. It was ruthless and cruel, compromising and humbling, feeling grateful and duped, relieved and knocked out. Today was one of those days when all signs point to one thing, yet everywhere you look the wind is blowing and snow is flying all around. I can't explain today. I don't want to feel today. And at the same time, I don't feel anything. I feel happy and almost at peace. I feel rescued. I feel set free. While at the same time, I feel tricked and taken advantage of. I feel lied to and used. I feel partly to blame and I feel guilty. 

I'm not going to go into the details of what happened today. I just needed to get my words out, I needed to know that I could write about it. I've been trying all day and the words are jumbled and mismatched and I feel like I have a block to how I'm really feeling. And part of me really feels completely differently than how I think I should be feeling. That part of me feels happy. That part of me wants to sigh deeply a huge sigh of relief and lay back in my beach chair and stare at the ocean. That part of me wants to put on big black sunglasses and drink a fruity drink and listen to Reggae. That part of me is so relieved.

So it's like I should feel bad. And I do. I feel legitimately sick to my stomach. But then, at the same time, I feel content. Like that feeling you get after you've been out in the cold all day then you get home and take a nice warm shower. You wash the dirt off of you and put on a comfy pair of pajamas. That part of me. That content part of me feels so guilty. Like I should care more. Like I should let the hurt resonate within me and it should click. Like I should realize that injustice was done and I'm really ticked off. And I am. But then, at the same time, I know it's for the best.

When I was a kid, my family home was on the same plot of land as an elementary school. The school and the park took up most of a square block, then right there, smack dab on the corner was my house. After we'd lived there for twelve or thirteen years, the city decided to kick us out. Eminent Domain they called it. The school was being expanded and we, unfortunately, had to leave. It was awful. I remember that time in my life being one of the most emotional. It was chaotic and short-noticed. It was rude and cruel the way they kicked us out. My childhood home was torn down by bulldozers, and to this day, I can't look at that plot of land for fear that I might lose the memory of my house sitting there. 

At the time, it was the worst thing that could possibly ever happen to us. We didn't deserve to get kicked out. We didn't deserve to have our house bulldozed. We didn't deserve to have only three months to look for a new home. But it happened and we did. It was a horrible thing that happened, but at the same time, it was just right. I love my parent's house now. I love their neighborhood, and living in that house completely changed my high school years. For the first time in my life, I could walk home from school. My friends came over often, I could carpool easily, and we were close to restaurants and stores that we'd lived so far away from before. None of us wanted to move out of our old house. And I still miss that house terribly. But our new house turned out to be a really great thing. And I think we all knew it at the time.


And so it is with this day. Feeling used and angry, but feeling free and relieved. All at the same time. I know that God is Sovereign. I know that His ways are good. I know that I can trust Him. And most importantly, I know that He loves me. So incredibly much. 

Love.

Isaiah 44

Israel the Chosen

 ¹ “But now listen, Jacob, my servant,
   Israel, whom I have chosen.
² This is what the LORD says—
   he who made you, who formed you in the womb,
   and who will help you:
Do not be afraid, Jacob, my servant,
   Jeshurun,^[a] whom I have chosen.
³ For I will pour water on the thirsty land,
   and streams on the dry ground;
I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring,
   and my blessing on your descendants.
⁴ They will spring up like grass in a meadow,
   like poplar trees by flowing streams.
⁵ Some will say, ‘I belong to the LORD’;
   others will call themselves by the name of Jacob;
still others will write on their hand, ‘The LORD’s,’
   and will take the name Israel.