Maybe someone else can clue me in on what is normal in the emotional world of being an adult woman. I have never grieved something like this before, barring the death of an actual person. Even in the tumultuous high school years, one day was about all it took to get over a breakup, a backstab, or the like. Maybe I have always been good at convincing myself I'm not upset, or that whatever I'm going through isn't a big deal. I've also always held fast to the conviction that God has a plan for me. In general, I like to know what's going on in my life; I like to plan where I'm going and analyze where I've been. I can see where God has worked that control loose from my death-grip and has been slowly showing me where His will is greater--and much more informed--than mine.
All that being said, and with my complete understanding that God knows what's best, who can explain this deep grief I am experiencing? I say "grief" because I can't think of another suitable word. It's not like I feel I've lost something, but, at the same time, I feel as though I'm on the verge of losing something. Perhaps I must loosen my grasp onto this dream I've always held for my future. Perhaps I'm grieving a possibility, and how foolish does that sound. God has not told me "no," but he has shown us "not right now." Am I the spoiled daughter who wants everything in her timing and by her standards? Veruca Salt from "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" comes to mind. "I want it all, and I want it right now." Reality check?
All this aside, I can't fight the deep feeling of sadness creeping into every corner of my being. I think I've safeguarded all the corners of my heart and life when, BAM, someone says something, or looks a little too knowingly at me, and I'm all crumbles and sobs. Swaying between feeling completely responsible, almost superstitious, concerning any outcome and then feeling completely helpless--like nothing I do might matter: my pendulum. In looking at the constant emotional state of myself, I can't help but try to analyze what's happening; however, my small knowledge of the brain, depression, and faith can only go so far. In my head I know that I cannot trick God into giving me what I want; there is no magic formula of prayers, actions, and heart changes that combined correctly might change the course of His will. In my head I also know God's plans are more perfect and more wonderful than anything I could create. But what does my heart say? It says everything I don't believe and everything I know to be false. The disappointment creeps in, tugging at me to believe lies, but I know better. Though I feel the desperate longing to fall completely, to give up hope, to allow myself to be swallowed by the darkness; despite the feelings of my heart, and the temptation to fall into the nothingness of depression and deceit; I will and can choose God's truth and God's timing.
Father God... forgive my selfish wanderings in self-pity and sadness. You know the deepest desires of my heart, and you know the sadness I battle. You know the attacks I am facing, and you know where my strength ends. I choose to trust Your truth and Your provision for my life. I know that You will never test me beyond my limits; you will never hand me more than I can bear. With Your help, Father, I am ready to relinquish control of my life to You. Though I am quick to snatch up my dreams, I know my plans are sandcastles in comparison to the concrete freedom and joy You promise to provide. Please let me taste the freedom of a peaceful heart once again. Remind me of Your goodness and the safety I have in Your arms. I choose Your plans for me. Please prepare my heart for whatever those plans might be, whatever path you want me to follow. Shape my dreams to follow Your perfect plan for my life. Continue to remind me of my commitment to you--my promise to continue giving You the control I desperately cling to. I know You are good, and I know You are perfect. ... amen.