“16 But Ruth replied, “Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. 17 Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the LORD deal with me, be it ever so severely, if even death separates you and me.”
I haven’t been to church in a while, because of the panic attacks. In November of 2010, I was sitting in the middle of a church service when I had my first panic attack. Ever since, even just sitting in the lobby of a church triggers an attack.
I’ve always veered away from talking directly about God in my blog – this is 100% because of my fears regarding my relationship with God. I love how honest everyone on WordPress is with me, many of you tell me things I need to hear but don’t want to, and so every time I write on my blog, I can just hear the cut and dry truth before I even hit ‘publish’.
The very moment before my panic attack, sitting in the middle of that church, I made the choice to try to forgive my father for what he put me and my family through the past few years. I prayed and laid down my right to harbor bitterness. I felt myself let go of the hatred. And then the world seemed distant, my heart started pounding, and I thought I was going to die.
Ever since, I’ve never been the same. And I haven’t completely opened up to Him. I’m too scared. Especially now, when everything is so unstable and I’m getting ready to let go of life as I know it. Faith shakes everything up.
I’m scared because I know that once I make that choice, first order of business will be speaking to my father for the first time in two years. I don’t hate him anymore, I just don’t want a relationship with him. He’s a stranger, and I don’t want to build a relationship over again, because he hasn’t been a father in a long time.
I’m writing this post because it dawned on me last night at 2:00AM, as I was writing Heather an e-mail (I didn’t want to disturb her with a text message if she was fast asleep) that after this Summer, our lives will never be the same.
In August, Heather will be married, and at the start of the new school year, I’ll (if all goes to plan) be moving into a dorm room.
For two hours I typed, contemplated, then typed some more. It hit me a little bit more with each tap of ‘Enter’.
Everything will be different.
This Summer an attempt must be made for a road trip somewhere crazy. Before Heather gets married and I start packing. A carefree-teen-years swan song. Not that our teen years have been carefree, they certainly haven’t been life threatening. I suppose it’s simply because this Summer is the end of this book. It’s the end of the general status quo of the past five years we’ve been friends.
My infatuation with Josh has been a fantastic set of blinders for the big picture. But I could suddenly see it all as I typed out that e-mail.
Gosh, what would I do without writing?
Tomorrow, Carlisle (Heather’s fiance) will be leaving for basic training in the Navy, and he won’t be back until two weeks before the wedding. So on Saturday, me and Heather will start our week of no make-up (it’s something we’ve wanted to do for a while, but I’ve been too busy being vain and she was too worried about how she would look in front of Carlisle) also on Saturday, we will be trying out a new church, and it will be my first time in a sanctuary in a long time, and finally, Saturday night, we will be crossing off something from our 20 Before 20 list: “Watch The Godfather”. Which will leave us with just 17 more list items, and a little over two years to complete all of them.
It has been suggested by many a scientist, that our perception of time is completely warped. That, while we perceive seconds, minutes, days, weeks ect., everything that has ever happened in the history of eternity has yet to occur, is occurring, and has already occurred. It is all happening at once. The past, present and future. Who we were, are and will be is inherently determined by the reality of what time is. I mention this because I’ve been having extremely vivid flashbacks, the sort of memories so vivid that you can feel them. The sort of memories that make you feel like a part of you is there still. And so time has been on my mind.
There is only so much time to make such memories, to make something of myself, to realize things and experience things and pursue things. Time as I perceive it. Time as we all perceive it.
I understand the person I want to be, and for a while I let go of the notion that who I am should be based on who I am with faith. But I take pride in many things about my childhood: that I was raised to behave like a lady, that I was raised to respect and consider the feelings and opinions of others, and that I was raised to believe in an all-powerful God. I never stopped believing in God, I just stopped believing that I could have it in me to let go of something that has been overpowering me for the past two years. A lot about my life currently scares me. I’m not a fearful person anymore, but I am afraid of walking into the future with a faint outline of what to expect.
Until I Write Again,