Grace, grace, grace, that was the theme of this past weekend. I went home, I got loved on, I was validated, and I was shown that I belong.
I was at a friends birthday party on Friday night, another friend of mine (one whom I don't know well and haven't known long) pulled me away from the group. My friend told me that despite not having talked to me in nearly a year, having no idea what was going on in my life, that he felt that he needed to tell me that it was time to come home. I can't begin to describe to you how deeply I felt his words.
Being known, really known, it's something every human desires, it's how we were designed. When someone really truly knows you, they help keep you strong in areas that are weak. Someone who really knows you, can anticipate your reaction and will be there before you have the chance to crumble. Someone who really knows you, forgives you before you have the chance to say you're sorry.
My weak spot is taking responsibility for others. I guess it's a result of being the oldest of eight kids, the buck is always passed up to the top, the failings of the younger are a result of the example of the elder. Be better, set the example, don't cry or they'll get upset, these are tough expectations to put on someone who by nature is sensitive and eager to please. I'm like a responsibility vacuum, I try to suck up every mistake, every sorrow, every problem, I'm worse than any of them (the weight of my own sin), so I'll just take the load on myself and feel all the sorrow. Not ok.
I'm put together a certain way, my mind and emotions are wired a certain way, change is very difficult. Being known however, gives you the opportunity to receive help without having to ask. After a long tearful talk this weekend, my best friend told me to stop being sorry. She told me multiple times throughout the weekend (even before I would say it), she could sense the situations where I would be weak and want to take responsibility, she would tell me to stop. That's love, supporting the other person where their weak, there's strength in that kind of unity.
The weekend was amazing, it was the first time in two months that I actually slept well, I could wear makeup because there were no spontaneous fits of tears, I could breathe. All was forgiven, I was released from a commitment I'd made, I felt brand new.
I was thinking about what it means to have hope again, where once there was none. In a very dramatic way, it'll like killing time until death. I have no reason to fear what comes after this life, I have everything to hope for. That being said, sometimes it's hard to wait for all that's hoped for, it's hard to see the point of waiting where I feel none. I don't say that like it's a death wish, but rather as an expression of the difficulty in waiting for the hope not yet realized.
I don't know how any of what I've just written will read to anyone else, but if I were to try and explain it to just one person, I'd tell them that at the root of it is joy, peace, grace, and a renewed ability to wait.
