I have heard Jesus everyday. There has not been a day that has gone by that a sentence hasn't come to mind that I knew without question or doubt that it was the Savior. In the beginning I would literally stop walking, or stop in the middle of the task and just listen to it, and think, "Ok Lord... Where did that come from?". Now, I know better. Now I know deeply and truly that every offering of insight, or moment spoken as an answer is a gift, because I have prayed to hear Him speak... well more important then that, I have prayed that I would have ears that could hear.
Since arriving in Rome I have had access to the Internet, unlimited and in the comfort of my own room. Part of me rejoices in this, and the other part? Wishes I still had that barrier. Don't get me wrong, it was great being able to chat with friends on Facebook, and hang out with Mandy one night and then Tex the next on iChat (how I do love Apple products). It made the world seem smaller, closer together. It made me feel not quite so far away. It brought someone here. It brought me home in a similar way. The truth of the matter is that I just can't say that in the beginning, it was what I wanted.
It did however, make me feel a little lost. A little torn between one place and the next. I got off iChat with Tex on Tuesday night, and felt unsure. All the experiences I have had, all the memories I've made, all the thoughts I've thought, and all the feelings I've had have been completely my own. They have been contained but most of all controlled in this head and heart of mine. With the exception of a few emails home a week ago, I've been a fortress of overwhelming experience and emotion held captive in this personal world that I've not allowed anyone in. The moment came in St. Peter's Basilica. The moment of awareness came with the voice of reason that I know humbly was the Lord. The word was Pride. The awareness meant more then knowing what to call what I'd been doing, it was the question that followed, "Are you going to let them in?". I sat and thought. I thought and I prayed. I prayed and I got mad. Then I finally wasn't mad, I realized that while I may never have acknowledged any of the ways I'd been feeling- that those who knew me best knew that I was not acting like myself. When I would write I missed someone I knew that in some ways that was true, but it always felt empty. I knew that those I love most must have been aware that there was something happening and going on but were just waiting... for me to begin to speak, I just wondered how long they were going to wait... and my stubborn pride wanted to know how long I could hold it in.
I knew it was time to make the change, I just didn't want to. It started with something small, I made one phone call and left one voice mail message. I justified the expense of 99cents a minute with the fact, it would be worth more not if in the moment, but in the long run for both me and the friend I called. I didn't say much, but what I said was true. In the privacy, and in the distance I began to forget things that were true in relationships I hold most dear at home. (Ironically enough while writing this sentence, "Say" by John Mayer just came on the radio, now thats just funny). I know that gaining space and perspective from home in the midst of this time is a good thing- it allows distraction to fall away and focus and energy on this particular time at hand to become the central piece of attention.
What do you say? What do I say to connect one really far away to me here? What do I say when there's so much that I think about in a day- that I was starting to lose my voice? What do you say that makes sense when you feel peacefully manic and all over the place? What do you say? What? And because I didn't know, I just stopped.
But... thanks to my time in St. Peter's and because I knew that the question was "Are you going to let them in?" Instead of praying for what to say, I prayed that the Lord would work in me to allow that to begin. The next morning I woke up to my 5:30am dream in which my phone rang. What I heard in that dream moved in my heart the entire day, and so finally upon returning to my room later that night I was ready. I was ready to talk. It was more then being ready, the desire to remain closed off was changing into wanting to be known... to be heard... and to believe that because I was being vulnerable didn't take away the significance of what I was thinking and learning- that sharing it was expanding it, as all part of my witness. It was part of my relationship with the Lord that beckons to be shared so that His work in me can be given praise and allow others to join me in the journey.
After some time iChatting with Tex, I finally had enough courage to start talking about somethings that mattered. I started talking about how I'm doing with taking care of myself and the tears began. Then I talked about some thoughts I had about a friend I used to have and the hurts that still linger there, the tears continued. I talked about awareness I felt in some areas that I felt inadequate. The tears ended there, because after a few hours of talking the conversation needed to be wrapped up. In the span of my emotional purge, he hadn't said much. I was was simply heard. We said goodbye, I had nothing more to say... what I had said was enough for that night.
I felt lost. I felt like what is the good in sharing when having those things in my head, I had been safe? I felt like I never should have spoken such random things, because I'm not upset or heartbroken here- quite the opposite: I feel content, peaceful, and whole. Perhaps it is finding that here, I have seen the truth about the life and relationships I maintain at home. The greatness of being known however difficult and vulnerable is that Tex knew I would be feeling lost and confused in that place, and true to the way he always has- he took his knowledge of me and his care into action, and he called right when enough time had passed from the ending of our conversation that the insecurity was a heavy blanket... in his call he removed the weight and assured me that he was glad I shared and to not regret it. To be known is scary, but when you are- you are opening yourself up to be loved the way we most desire- and in that moment for me, it was a phone call from across the ocean from my best friend telling me, that it mattered... and that I could and needed to rest there.
The Lord takes us often to places that we go kicking and screaming and other times we glad fully submit. I wanted to come here. I wanted to be away. I wanted to do 5 weeks solo, just to know I could do it. I wanted to be quiet and still. I wanted to move, walk, explore, and experience. I wanted to capture what I'd see in pictures. I have done those things, but with the exception of Facebook Albums, and a few blog entries- I have captured and contained this to myself. I have made choices and I have seen things that are personal, some private... and without knowing it I got lost in the itinerary and subsequently starting cutting people out of my life... I just didn't know it.
So friends and readers alike. I cut off and I cut away. I can't say that will change overnight, and I can't say what will happen in the next two weeks I remain out of the country. I can say however that I've seen the extreme, and I have been able to acknowledge that there has to be a place in the middle. I have opened up small windows to how I am- with anecdotes about the older man at Piazza Signoria telling me I was beautiful... I have discussed the pursuit of being refined... those are small windows from this castle of complexity and joy. There are doors, gardens, and great big rooms of awareness, hope, peace, knowledge, change, intimacy, and security.
While there are so many things to say and share about this time, I know deeply and truly that every prayer being raised at home, is being answered in big and small ways. I know that things that control my heart at home are weaker. I know that the places I have felt insecure are not true. I have an awareness of self that coincides more with the way that the Father sees me. I have known I've deserved better in some situations, and in those places my heart now believes it too. I have sought some answers and gotten responses to questions I hadn't even asked yet. I feel like me. I feel like I don't recognize myself in pictures in some ways, and when I am getting ready for the day I just study my eyes in the mirror as I brush my teeth. I can't tell you the last time I ever really looked at myself, and made eye contact and just looked... and studied the colors. I have had great conversations in random places... I've met who I've adopted as my Italian Grandfather, last week my Italian Father, and then the other day my Italian spouse as I was proposed to (I politely declined and blushed).I have been frustrated in moments. I have been sad in others. I have been so still and quiet in my thought while awake that it felt like a peaceful dream.
We all play roles. We all have token things about us that are lived out in our relationships. The listener, the sister, the best friend, the mother, the talker, the party planner, the shy guy, the class clown, the insecure awkward one, the beauty, the athlete, the perfectionist, the best dressed, the encourager, the prayer, the articulate one, life's cheerleader, the gossip, the jealous, the drama queen, the servant, the creative one, the opinionated one, the depressed one, the phony one, the lover, the hater.... there are so many characteristics of each role I could list all day.
I in a way I had grown to resent the role I play in some relationships because it didn't facilitate what I wanted. My selfish nature didn't want the outcome of a particular role and that led to hurt and opposition. I did not know this until the only role I had to play, was just me. Me as a daughter of the King just wanting to be with Him as His beloved. The roles I play at home all fell away, and what remained was the Me I have always been, with the desire I ache for more then the outcome of my selfish desires... it has been as His daughter. His beloved. His child. His creation. His beautiful one. After three weeks, I see that, I feel it, and I believe it. I know that I can seek Him and be used for His purpose, and celebrate that submission for His plans for me and not resent that I'm not getting what I think it best for me. I can celebrate better the roles I play, varying from relationship and situation... because I have finally gotten a glimpse of the bigger picture.
He has chosen me, and I have chosen Him.
I want to return that way. Just me.
"I don't know this could break my heart or save me
Nothing's real until you let go completely
So here I go with all my thoughts that I've been saving
So here I go with all my fear weighing on me....
Three *weeks and I am still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers
But I know its never really over
I don't know I could crash and burn but maybe...
At the end of this road I might catch a glimpse of me,
So I won't worry about my timing,
I wanna get it right
No comparing, no second guessing
No, not this time...
Three *weeks and I am still breathing
Been a long road since those hands left my tears in
But I know its never really over
Three *weeks and I'm standing here
Three *weeks and I'm getting better
Three *weeks and I'm still... here
Three *weeks and its harder now
Three *weeks I've lived here without you now
Three *weeks... I....
Three *weeks I'm still breathing
Three *weeks and I still remember it
Three *weeks and I wake up
Three *weeks and I'm still sober
Picked all my weeds but kept the flowers..."
*weeks are months in the original song "Sober" By Kelly Clarkson
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