I've spent the last seven years of my life chasing a happily ever after. Not in the Cinderella way, but in traveling around from one heart to the next doing everything I could to tie up the loose ends and seal it with a neat, clean bow. It started as a need to fill my own heart that seemed to have a gaping hole somewhere in the bottom of it that kept it from staying full. I spent 5 years caring for people with special needs and helping them to pour as much beauty into their lives as they could hold. Then I felt myself being pulled away from that field and as much as it hurt to walk away, I didn't walk away the same person I was when I started. The last two have been spent serving a family and living in a domestic violence shelter advocating for women who have more strength than I'll ever fully know. This continual pouring of myself feels like home. It's all I've known as an adult and it truly brings me joy. But as of late, I've been beginning to feel another change happening in my life. A shift marking a new beginning that might launch me into something much bigger than myself while it simultaneously takes me down to my absolute core.
I've felt the weight of this shift as I have sat down more times than I can count over the last couple of weeks to try and pour more of myself into this blog. Trying to tap into the well of emotions churning inside and make sense of everything before they turn quiet and refuse to let me see their faces. I've written a few thousand words and then with a swift swipe of the mouse, deleted them all without looking back. Nothing seems to quite fit on these pages, the art of stringing words into sentences capturing this season doesn't quite hold the appeal it has in the past. Even now as I sit here, breathing in the flow of the music and keeping time with the click of the keys, the words refuse to make their way out through my fingertips.
I never would have guessed that not being able to write would exhaust me more than painting the inner walls of my heart on the internet for everyone to see. But as it would turn out, it does. I'm beginning to realize trying to carry and fix everything this broken world offers you doesn't lead to a happily ever after, It brings a weariness that I'm only now being able to identify. It's a weariness that comes from wanting everything you think you don't deserve, you can't handle, or are just so damn afraid of stepping into. It's a weariness that's enough to coil the strings of your heart into tight, complicated knots. But even as those knots press into all the sore places and dig into your flesh leaving memory filled scars, you fight to keep the frayed ends clutched in your hands. You accept the pain of it all because even though it hurts, its a familiar kind of pain you know you can bear. You press on against the pull of something bigger because even though you're left breathless at the end of the day from keeping it all together, it's easier than letting Him unravel everything you thought you were.
Because what if who you're left with after the unraveling doesn't quite fit into the mold crafted with such care by the hands who held yours for so long? What if the unraveling leads you to the truth that the roles you claim with gusto don't quite match the identity tattooed on your heart? And as much as it pains you that you can't braid the unraveled bits of you and tie them up in a neat, clean bow, you have to choose to stop pressing against the pull and sink into it and let it carry you for a while. But maybe that's what this whole unraveling was supposed to be in the first place. A means to bring you right here, knotted and afraid, but inching closer to the true calling of your bones.