I used to blog. I was always in awe of how an artist was able to take what they saw and put it on paper so that others could see what they did. There were so many times when I saw or felt something that I wanted to share with others, but I was no artist, and so I used the written word and tried to put to paper those things that I wanted to share with others. Sometimes funny, sometimes philosophical, and sometimes heartfelt. Then one day my world was shattered and my muse disappeared. I still saw and felt so many things I wanted to share, but my heart was always so heavy, the words just wouldn't come. I tried a time or two, but without my muse, the words that came were cold, lifeless and empty. And so I stopped. I metaphorically put down my pen and walked away.
Life is an interesting beast. Sometimes it feels a little like quicksand. You're just walking along, enjoying the sights, when out of the blue you unknowingly step into quicksand. Your first response is to fight. You feel yourself being pulled down by the sucking mud and you fight and struggle. Your heart races and you scream for help, but the gooey substance just keeps tugging you down. It's not until you tire and give up, or should I say, resign yourself to your fate, and stop fighting it that you become aware that the goop is no longer pulling you down. You discover that if you take slow, even breaths, lay your head back, and stay calm, that your descent into muddy oblivion slows and hope of rescue begins to return.
That's where I had come to. I had been fighting and struggling for survival and crying out for rescue for so long I just got tired and resigned myself to my fate. I stopped praying for a rope, a branch, a scout troop, to suddenly appear and rescue me and started telling God that it was up to Him. If He wanted me to be rescued, he would have to send the means of His choice, but until then, I was just going to float and accept whatever fate He had in store for me. I think this is what they call faith. It was only at that point that He said, "finally! She gets it." and proceeded with the rescue.
We all (at least me) read books. I have a rather impressive library of books of all kinds. There are two shelves entirely dedicated to the hopelessly romantic love stories. Nicholas Sparks being one of my favorites. His stories almost always tell of the tragedy of the girl with the dark past and the broken heart and the warm and kindhearted man who finds her, loves her, and rescues her. I read those books and tell myself, I can't be the only one who dreams or believes in such things, there are dozens, hundreds, heck, maybe even thousands of books out there that tell such tales. So, why then, when it truly happens, are we so skeptical of events so rare and amazing? I have no answer to that question. But, I do believe that dreams can come true, and prayers can be answered.
So, I suppose it was my turn after so many years of sorrow, grief, heartbreak and loneliness to have that scout troop (or at least that one boy scout) stumble upon me, sinking in the quicksand, and reach out to rescue me. What a day that was when I looked in to those clear blue eyes and could see into eternity. I didn't feel afraid or wary of this rescuer. There had been others that happened by. There were venomous snakes, scorpians with deadly stingers, and vines that were weak and would break before pulling me free. Because of those false attempts to save me, I had become skeptical and afraid to reach for anything offered. But there he was, speaking to me quietly with his gentle eyes and lifting me from my muddy prison. Trust is a fragile thing. Once lost it's hard to recover. Even after being plucked from the quicksand, I was reluctant to trust him. My heart was screaming in my ears to believe what I was feeling, but I was afraid of just ending up back in the quicksand. So I hesitated and I prayed again to God. I couldn't do subtlety, a still small voice would not suffice. I had been fooled, or fooled myself too many times before to trust even my own heart. Once again, I resigned myself into His designs and said, "if this is truly the path of safety and happiness that you want for me, you are going to have to strike me with lightening so I will know." I knew what I wanted, but I had to do what He wanted. Sure enough, true to His promises, the very next day I was struck by lightening (metaphorically of course, or I would be dead and not be boring you with this blog). With a simple, unprovoked gesture, something sweet that had only been shared between my father and his children when we were small, my boy scout, my rescuer, unknowingly provided me with that undeniable confirmation that he was the one sent to rescue me and I did not need to fear.
Love at first sight? No, not possible, doesn't happen. Yes, it does, because it happened to me. Can you find someone and know in the first 15 minutes with them that you love them with all your heart now and forever? Yes. Can you know you want to spend the rest of your life and all of eternity with someone after 7 days? Yes. It seems like a fairy tale, a story to lift a heart and give it hope. But, it does happen, it is real, and when God answers a prayer, only a fool refuses to accept it and then the quicksand will pull you down and all joy ceases to exist.
And so, my muse returned. As sickeningly sweet as this sounds, the sky is a little bluer, the air is a little clearer, and beauty and joy seem to be everywhere in the everyday simple things. My muse is here to stay. I know she will never go away again. And so, with that, to my boy scout's proposal of marriage I say "Yes, yes, I will. And I will love you always and gladly let you spend the rest of our days and into eternity loving me." So, in the words of my fortune cookie, "A bold and dashing adventure is in your future within the year."
Life is an interesting beast. Sometimes it feels a little like quicksand. You're just walking along, enjoying the sights, when out of the blue you unknowingly step into quicksand. Your first response is to fight. You feel yourself being pulled down by the sucking mud and you fight and struggle. Your heart races and you scream for help, but the gooey substance just keeps tugging you down. It's not until you tire and give up, or should I say, resign yourself to your fate, and stop fighting it that you become aware that the goop is no longer pulling you down. You discover that if you take slow, even breaths, lay your head back, and stay calm, that your descent into muddy oblivion slows and hope of rescue begins to return.
That's where I had come to. I had been fighting and struggling for survival and crying out for rescue for so long I just got tired and resigned myself to my fate. I stopped praying for a rope, a branch, a scout troop, to suddenly appear and rescue me and started telling God that it was up to Him. If He wanted me to be rescued, he would have to send the means of His choice, but until then, I was just going to float and accept whatever fate He had in store for me. I think this is what they call faith. It was only at that point that He said, "finally! She gets it." and proceeded with the rescue.
We all (at least me) read books. I have a rather impressive library of books of all kinds. There are two shelves entirely dedicated to the hopelessly romantic love stories. Nicholas Sparks being one of my favorites. His stories almost always tell of the tragedy of the girl with the dark past and the broken heart and the warm and kindhearted man who finds her, loves her, and rescues her. I read those books and tell myself, I can't be the only one who dreams or believes in such things, there are dozens, hundreds, heck, maybe even thousands of books out there that tell such tales. So, why then, when it truly happens, are we so skeptical of events so rare and amazing? I have no answer to that question. But, I do believe that dreams can come true, and prayers can be answered.
So, I suppose it was my turn after so many years of sorrow, grief, heartbreak and loneliness to have that scout troop (or at least that one boy scout) stumble upon me, sinking in the quicksand, and reach out to rescue me. What a day that was when I looked in to those clear blue eyes and could see into eternity. I didn't feel afraid or wary of this rescuer. There had been others that happened by. There were venomous snakes, scorpians with deadly stingers, and vines that were weak and would break before pulling me free. Because of those false attempts to save me, I had become skeptical and afraid to reach for anything offered. But there he was, speaking to me quietly with his gentle eyes and lifting me from my muddy prison. Trust is a fragile thing. Once lost it's hard to recover. Even after being plucked from the quicksand, I was reluctant to trust him. My heart was screaming in my ears to believe what I was feeling, but I was afraid of just ending up back in the quicksand. So I hesitated and I prayed again to God. I couldn't do subtlety, a still small voice would not suffice. I had been fooled, or fooled myself too many times before to trust even my own heart. Once again, I resigned myself into His designs and said, "if this is truly the path of safety and happiness that you want for me, you are going to have to strike me with lightening so I will know." I knew what I wanted, but I had to do what He wanted. Sure enough, true to His promises, the very next day I was struck by lightening (metaphorically of course, or I would be dead and not be boring you with this blog). With a simple, unprovoked gesture, something sweet that had only been shared between my father and his children when we were small, my boy scout, my rescuer, unknowingly provided me with that undeniable confirmation that he was the one sent to rescue me and I did not need to fear.
Love at first sight? No, not possible, doesn't happen. Yes, it does, because it happened to me. Can you find someone and know in the first 15 minutes with them that you love them with all your heart now and forever? Yes. Can you know you want to spend the rest of your life and all of eternity with someone after 7 days? Yes. It seems like a fairy tale, a story to lift a heart and give it hope. But, it does happen, it is real, and when God answers a prayer, only a fool refuses to accept it and then the quicksand will pull you down and all joy ceases to exist.
And so, my muse returned. As sickeningly sweet as this sounds, the sky is a little bluer, the air is a little clearer, and beauty and joy seem to be everywhere in the everyday simple things. My muse is here to stay. I know she will never go away again. And so, with that, to my boy scout's proposal of marriage I say "Yes, yes, I will. And I will love you always and gladly let you spend the rest of our days and into eternity loving me." So, in the words of my fortune cookie, "A bold and dashing adventure is in your future within the year."
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