I’ve been out of my mind sick this past week.
In the midst, I was bedridden for the 3 days straight, and having thee weirdest dreams of my life.
But before I go there--
Can I just say, it feels goot (yes, Goot.) to let go.
I know. I know.
Life is truly a series of Letting Go’s.
I mean, just when you think you’ve mastered the art, you get invited into a new dojo and a new sensei bows before you, you lower your head ever so slowly…and then WHAM! You’re on your back staring at the ceiling. Almost forgetting all the moves that made you a black belt in ‘letting go’ in the first place.
But how?
I know how.
I was trying to hold onto baggage.
And oddly enough, it wasn’t even my own baggage.
You know when you think you know the way in which to ‘fix’ or ‘improve’ upon someone else’s own life, and yet they themselves feel no sense of urgency or need.
But alas, we feel the need to be a superhero or at the very least an aid. So we spend our time thinking about, talking about, mulling about, fretting about, and if we’re feeling really holy…praying about the ways in which this person is meant to change.
But if I’ve learned anything about prayer in the last ten years, it’s God’s beautiful way of changing us first before the situation shifts or even the person.
And as I’ve stated earlier this year,
“One cannot be more involved in changing someone else’s life than they are.”
Because when we do, there becomes this sense of entitlement that grows over our hearts, which then quickly turns to bitterness, which then quickly chokes out the very beautiful present moment that we are in right now. The one in which we are meant to cherish and appreciate it.
And of course, that person that we are so concerned about must keep living. And will keep living. But some people gotta learn the hard way, in order for the lesson to be truly be learned…
Our hearts are valid in all of this.
Your heart.
My heart.
Their heart.
But now is the time to let go and love.
We’ve done what we felt led to do, and all that we can.
Now it’s in God’s hands.
Note: They may never change in the way that we see fit.
That person might never choose you for their love story.
Nevertheless, you will still experience the type of peace, joy, and love that only God can usher in.
Trust that.
Trust that, Patrice.
So yeah.
It seems that when you let go of the very thing or people you were trying to hold onto, ever so tightly—when you really, really let go, like balls to the wall, don’t care about the outcome---the miracle of that person or opportunity comes right back around—right into your own backyard unexpectedly.
Which in my case, I was too sick and tired (literally), to even care.
But it does make me smile at life and the stories woven therein.
And it all showed me, that there is always something going on behind the scenes in the spirit, even when we think we have everything or nothing figured out.
It also put things into perspective to me. Because the months and months that I spent drooling over this respectable guy, I was able to see his lack of follow-through, his lack of being intentional, and how easily distracted he would become anytime we were in a conversation together.
Was this the type of personality and behavior that I’d want to nurse throughout an entire relationship? And sure, let’s think long term here. If he’s not exemplifying those traits of patience and intentionality now, he wasn’t magically going to start these habits without some sort of life interruption--Because apparently he’s been getting on with life quite fine.
Would I want a son or a daughter trying to constantly vie for his attention?..I was exhausted just thinking about it.
So when I heard from him, out of the blue, whilst I was sick, my true heart’s answer was settled. He’s not the guy for me.
But mind you, I almost spent a year telling myself the complete opposite.
There’s something to being sick and gaining true perspective…
And sure he loved God. A lot. But he also loved the lights and glimmer of Hollywood, and although I work in this industry, I’m not one to be mesmerized by the façade, but would rather Netflix and chill or visit a ranch or country line dance or write or pray with my beloved teenagers.
Still hoping to find someone who gets it—who gets me and knows themselves quite well in all of this.
Now back to my series of weird dreams.
I was having a hard time sleeping through the night, but when I would sleep I had the oddest dreams.
But the one that stood out to me during that entire week while I was sick, was a dream that lasted no more than 10 seconds.
I was either in the second story or an attic of a house. It kind of felt like my house, a place I knew, but it was strangely different.
It was nighttime. And I was looking out of a window, watching shady characters walk calmly past the house I was in, and then cross the street away from me.
As I watched them walk further and further away, I noticed the house that I was in was covered in graffiti on the outside. Like almost every square inch.
And I’m not talking those beautiful graffiti murals. I’m talking random graffiti tags and throw ups in a variety of dark and dingy colors.
I remember looking at the inside of the window awning above my head and there was graffiti in that nook and cranny as well.
And I remember thinking…”How did graffiti practically get on the inside of this house? I was here the entire time and never heard a sound...” In the realm of the dream, it seemed to be an impossibility—for graffiti to be so close to the interior of the house--
I do one last scan above and below me, to see if I happen across anything else strange. I don’t, but I’m still perplexed about all the graffiti.
And then I wake up.
And when I wake up, I’m AWAKE.
This dream made all the sense in the world to me.
Some of the explanation has words—the other bit, I just know in my bones.
But this is what I’ll share:
2015 has covered me, and layered me.
I thought this year was going to paint something beautiful on me. But instead, I was marked up…
The company I kept and the situations I was around and the line of work that I do, they all left their marks on me.
Often when I have dreams like this, it’s not to simply depress me, but to rather show me what needs to be changed and fixed—because you see, it can be changed and fixed--repaired and redeemed.
But before you can grow, one must admit there is a problem, that there is something askew.
My house has graffiti all over it.
And now the cleaning must begin.
Wisdom’s Knocking:
25 “Husbands, love your wives [seek the highest good for her and surround her with a caring, unselfish love], just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her,
26 so that He might sanctify the church, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word [of God]…”
-- Ephesians 5:25-26 (AMP)