The Best Is Yet to Come

And thus begins the deconstruction of my hardened heart,

                    
              as others' pain becomes more important than my own;
             
                                                        as I stop worrying about being right or wrong and just be;

                       as I realize I am as fallible as the next;

as actions become more important than words;

                                         as I learn forgiveness is a process, not immediate;

                 as I learn to love people for who they are and not who I want them to be;

                              as I learn to be content with what I have when I have it;


And while each hardened piece is chipped and melted away, the pang of regret, change, and reality sometimes steals my breath and leaves me trembling. Exposed. Jaded. Disbelieving.


And then a look,

                              a word,

                  an embrace,

        reminds me why I am here

and why I must continue this journey.


Because someone

                 somewhere

                         at some point

will be in these same shoes,

                   And at that time I will be able to say, I've been there too.

                                             Don't give up, the best is yet to come.

                      


                                                     

The Eruption by Jen Abbas at age 18

divorce

is like a trembling earthquake

the world shakes

rumbling with rage

and all the anger

guilt

and all the frustrations

that have been festering for so long

below the surface

suddenly spew upward

in an inferno of hate

or apathy...

at times

the earth calms

and you think

the turmoil is over

settled

stable

but

then the cycle begins again

repeating

repeating

repeating

you are weary

you want to rest

and that is when you realize

the shaking has stopped

but

there is an eerie feeling

lurking in the air

you are hestitant to believe

anything

anymore

you are so tired

after struggling for so long

and so you rest

on the last solid patch of land

only to watch it split in two

two

separate

distinct

parts

that will never

come together

again

each new patch

supports part of you

and as you watch

they pull away.



The Mistakes of Our Fathers

I went home this past week to be with my family for Christmas. It's still hard to split my time between my parents, and I still tiptoe around the topic of one when I'm with the other. I had a confrontation of sorts with my dad one day. It's really difficult to believe someone has truly chosen something which isn't in his or her best interest, but no matter how many different ways you explain it, it goes in one ear and out the other. I hate feeling like he listens to everyone else but his children. But at the end of the day, its his choice, its his life. I cannot choose for him, and I really wish I could have faith that he's making the right decision. I think one of the hardest things is to suddenly one day realize your parents are people just like you and me. They make mistakes, they have baggage, and they're broken, too.

So many times their brokenness and baggage gets passed down from generation to generation, which creates a cycle of destructive behavior and abuse if its not handled correctly. I look around me and see so many people who have been through much worse things than I have, and I wonder how they're still walking and breathing today. Sometimes I think its a miracle we turn out as whole as we do.

I am so thankful my parents don't put me in the middle or use me against eachother... I cannot imagine how difficult and heartbreaking that must be. But no matter how much I disagree with so many of their choices, I'm learning that good or bad, those were their choices and now we all deal with the consequences. I've definitely learned from their mistakes, and I pray certain aspects of both sides of my family do not carry on through me in the future. My mother wanted those things to end with her and my dad, and maybe the end result is the divorce. Maybe my brother and I had to go through this with them in order to learn from their mistakes and not allow those things to carry on past us. I will not pass those things on to any children I may have in the future.

I have so many thoughts on cycles of poverty, abuse, lack of education, etc. I get so frustrated with parents of our kids at my internship, but I have to realize many times these parents are doing the best they can. I have to wonder what kind of parents they grew up with. Considering their parents behavior, anything better than that, although not healthy and constructive, is probably considered okay as long as they aren't treating their kids as poorly as they were treated as children. Does that make sense?

It's late and I'm rambling now, but maybe someone can understand my ramblings and hopefully identify with them. I'd love to hear your thoughts either way. Leave a comment, I'll respond. Let's dialogue with eachother.

The Loner

My best friend and I had one of those conversations the other day where you see yourself as you really are, and you're not exactly happy with what you see. She and I have been through a lot together. She's seen the best and the worst in me and hasn't walked away. She's earned the right to be brutally honest with me, especially when I don't want to listen.

In a nutshell, she's worried about me. I've got a set of pretty good defense mechanisms that I use without even realizing it, and a lot of times it keeps me from community and I miss out on some pretty fantastic people. My rationale? If I am a loner by choice, at least I know it's because I chose it and not because they didn't respond to my efforts. So many times I've put myself out there for people, only to be met with... well, nothing. I'm very much an introvert, so I have to purposefully put myself out there to get to know people. I get tired of trying after so many times of being let down. In the end, I'm at risk of not trying at all.

I don't know how to fix something like this. I'm pretty selective about who I let in. If you ask me questions, I'm more than happy to answer, I just don't offer it without the asking. Does that make me unapproachable? Not knowing how to move past this doesn't mean don't try... I just don't know where to begin. I try to imagine what I'd say to one of my kids...

"Just because you're unsure of yourself doesn't mean take yourself out of the game. Take it step by step, day by day, interaction by interaction, person by person. And in time you'll get there, one relationship at a time."

I feel something in me churning to be better, do better. To love more, love bigger. To not be afraid of vulnerability. All the "what-ifs" keep clouding my mind.

"What's the worst that could happen? You don't become friends with that person, maybe your feelings get hurt from the rejection. But you pick yourself up and you dust yourself off, because tomorrow is a new day, and with each of these new experiences, you are becoming a new person. A stronger person."

Its time I take my own advice.