It’s been awhile since I’ve written about going home. I wanted this blog to be dedicated more so to my adventures, if I can call them that, with my family. It’s always different, and there’s always something to be learnt especially from God as the past couple years have been spent going back and forth on college breaks.
I think we left off receiving my gift from God, which was love in my heart for my mother. I smile as I think of that, though just a moment ago, if I can be so bold, I was crying.
I spent the summer away in Ames and my relationship with home was that via telephone, safe. I could tell that going home this time around was going to be harder for my heart when a week prior to doing so, we (being my mom, my dad, and I) had to reorganize the weekend schedule as they both had planned separate parties on the same day. This allows for opportunity, per usual, for disagreements and arguments usually with me mediating somewhere in the middle; resentfully, unfortunately. The civility between the two of them, if there really ever was such a thing (certainly there had to of been before they divorced, of which I could probably remember if I’d try), is not yet resolved which tends to be an easy button to make me bitter and hurt. So going into the week, you could say, I wasn’t as so much thrilled as one probably could be. As from the start, I’m continually leaning on God for strength, which has been much, much needed.
My independency, which has been engraved into my character over the past 7 or so years, has really been in of itself: incredibly inconvenient. Seeded by living alone and not wanting to let anyone else care for me, I learned to love it and take pride in it. It makes me non-relational and unable to love. Over the past month, I’ve felt God asking me to dig into why it’s there and why it feels like someone is sticking my hand in acid every time I have to ask for help, or allow others to help. I’ve been afraid, of course because Satan likes to deceive me and I, as per the beginning that we see with Eve and the apple, I am easily deceived.
This week has been hard, no so much because of my independency, but more so the repercussions that I’ve caused with the relationship with my parents with both me, and one another. My mom and I were having a discussion which started with me finally expressing my wishes towards mutual civility between my parents because of the difficulty that it is for me to handle. My mom brought light to a new side where they try to work together, but as soon as either offers help I am quick to shut down any offer so it is no longer necessary for them to work together any longer. In a sense it hurt the most as I felt she was blaming me, though in another I can see the truth in such a phase, which hurt even worse; so much so that it felt like someone was stabbing my heart and I could no longer retain crying in front of her like I’d avoided for as long as I can remember. It was good, if I can say so, because I know exactly why I had told my dad to not help; I didn’t want to be inconvenient by using his only car for the summer while my mom had a spare though he offered. I see now just how awful the ramifications are of being independent; the sad part is that I chose it because of this statement: I don’t want to be inconvenient. I am inconvenient: this is where I am being deceived.
I think somewhere inside I’m afraid that when I ask someone for help, they’re going to turn me down because I’m inconvenient. Honestly, tonight I asked God, “Am I inconvenient?”
It makes sense too a lot now, whenever someone or God shows me or tells me how much He loves me why I just break down a weep, because I just don’t believe that God could love me, a sinner who is over ambitious, impatient, lustful, impure, self righteous, independent, hateful, unsubmissive, unholy, unrighteous. Loving me might be inconvenient. How could God love me?
I don’t know. I know that he does, and a lot. More than I could ever hope for or imagine or probably ever experience here. No one has ever loved me the way God loves me.
I wish I could say right now, I know God counts me significant, but I can’t. He will show me soon though and I’m really grateful that I can depend on him to hold my heart when I feel this way.
“Let morning bring word of your unfailing love.” This I pray, amen.