Tuesday, July 21, 2015

The road home

For many years,  I felt as if I'd led a double life. There was the me I revealed to the world,  and then there was the side only my truest friends ever got to see. I was the proper,  well mannered,  Christian,  church going mom to most everyone. Very few knew I had a desire for tattoos or swore like a sailor. My love for beer and wine was stifled by the fear that it made me less of a lady.

I remember being a kid and wishing to just be "normal."  As an adult,  I've come to realize,  that's just a setting on the dryer. I spent the better part of my youth fighting a war within myself.  I would fluctuate between attempting to embrace the faith of my parents and just giving up.  It wasn't until a few years ago when I was forced to be brutally honest with myself,  that I discovered my own faith.

I trust in a higher power. I believe Christ died for our sins,  will never leave nor forsake us,  but also that not all are His children.  I will not sit here and criticize the faith of others. I have long believed religion and politics are 2 things comparitive to genitals. We all have them,  but not everyone wants yours dancing in their face. I stand firmly on my beliefs,  but I will not cram them down anyone's throat. My respect for those who attend services weekly is accompanied with a deep appreciation of the Christmas and Easter Christians.  We all practice in our own ways.

The manner in which we express our dedication could be a case by case explanation. For me,  I believe the good Lord has His hand upon me.  I can't deny, the last few years have been rather tough. I've seen the depths of hell, and when I think I've hit the bottom,  this life shows me there's yet another layer. I praise Him in the storm, because each and every trial I've encountered has brought me closer to Him. I am thankful for every tribulation. It is in my darkest hour that my true character comes forth. I know how to rally. By no means am I saying I don't fall apart,  but as soon as, my meltdown comes to an end,  I pick myself up, brush the dust off,  and assure myself I'll do better next time.  I may question many times whether the light at the end of the tunnel is the sun or a train,  but I continue my journey.

Patience has never been my strong suit,  but I have come to know the glory of waiting. I don't want anything in my life to be forced. The good Lord will show me the way in His time. So far, that mentality has been extremely successful, and I will not stray from it, for the few times I jumped the gun, the bite in the ass that followed was more meat than I had to donate. My scars run deep,  but I wear them proudly and with the humility to admit when I've been wrong.

I have a book a dear friend gave me several years ago. She told me to only write my goals in it. She wanted me to be mindful of what I wrote. Kind of a "be careful what you wish for,  you just might get it. " I was very careful to only write the things I truly believe I need. So far,  several of those items I have. The rest I will continue to be patient for. I will work diligently towards my dreams. I will give every ounce of my dedication to the desires of my heart,  and I will trust in Him.

I don't hide the true me anymore. It is what it is, and there's no explanation necessary. My loss of faith somehow became the way I found myself and my way back. I'm not perfect,  and I'm certainly never going to be normal,  but I'm good with it.

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