The Burning Bush

Just another one of those days - and I realize a lot of things about myself. For one thing, I am terrible at making friends. I tend to retreat into myself and become shy and quiet. If you know me, that would probably surprise you, as I am very extroverted with people I know. No, it's the commencement that gets me.

Also...I don't do well in big parties(think grad. parties, baby showers, etc...). I tend to want to go off by myself and pass the time by reading or, in this case, staring at a beautiful painting. In my defense, the painting was amazing; it had so much to look at, and there was always something new to see. I love painting very much, perhaps because I'm so terrible at it. It's one of those things you try and try and try, and nothing good ever really comes of it. My paintings would make the babies cry. I'm okay with that, but...I do get just a little jealous of people who can paint, and do it well, too.

There are also the times when something is, quite simply, different from the way I or my family do things - and on the rare occasion I will wish that it could be that way for me. Of course, this is merely my sentimental side coming through. I doubt many people, even if they might be very sensitive, could understand the depth of my sentimentality. It scares even me sometimes. I get stuck on things, objects, a moment in time - a book, a character from it. I tend to resist change with all I have.

I recently gave up on a dream that was always very close to my heart - I won't go into detail, but it was a matter of letting go of my sentimentality and giving it up into God's hands. I'm not forever quitting this dream, but for the time being...I won't have anything to do with it. Believe me, now that I'm on the other side, I understand, and can live with it; it only stings occasionally.

But getting to that place? It was probably one of the hardest things I've had to do. There are addictions, and then there are obsessions - this was one of the latter, if I am honest. An unhealthy infatuation with something that brought me nothing good - and yet it was such a core part of who I consider myself to be, and what I think lies in my heart. I'm not so good at knowing myself yet, y'know?

I think that might have been the first time I've really experienced a little of what heartbreak is. And no, not in some silly sense, not really. I realize how blessed I've been in my life; yes, I've been sheltered, but it's not such a bad thing.

My heart hurts easily - I've come to terms with that fact. It doesn't mean it heals quickly, too, but that's really my decision, isn't it? It will still hurt, but I can choose to let it go. It's an amazing thing, when you realize, then understand, that your pain doesn't have to define who you are. I don't have to be damaged goods, a continually broken heart. With God's help, I can move past that - that's the only reason I can.

I love that God doesn't control everything - He gives me the choice to move forward, but doesn't force me to. He doesn't promise that it will be easy or painless, but He promises to be there, beside me, carrying me, supporting me.

You know something?

It's enough.

I can live with it, so long as I have Him. I really, really can.

However many times this Fumblebee hits the window...at least it'll be picked up and given another chance.

~Fumble