Needlepoint
Wow. Making a hobby out of heartbreak is heartbreaking.
This phase of my life feels like getting one giant, spontaneous tattoo. Painful and permanent. I didn't plan it, and I wish it would stop, and I'm not entirely sure the result will be beautiful. But I can't go back, and even if I tried to now, I'd be left unfinished. And I can't have that.
5 comments:
From one who's been terribly (heart)broken: I am entirely sure the result will be beautiful. You'll know it too. And your strength and resilience and capacity for love in Him is what makes it beautiful in you even before there is a distinct "result" (Is there ever? What a journey we're on!).
You incredible woman writer, you.
Couldn't have said it better if i tried.
Love you Lu, Soon we will get tatoos of our choice.
i like the tattoo analogy. its perfect.
It feels like a tattoo, but it won't seem like it 10 years from now. I remember times in my college days where I felt so discouraged about my grades and was so tired from my schedule (work, church, homework, etc.) that I'd literally think, "Well, at least I haven't done anything that I can be put in jail for." That was my emotional starting point. Then I'd think, "Well, if they can't put me in jail, then I guess I can do whatever I want to do. So what do I want to do?" Then I felt a feeling of freedom and possibility creep in. And soon I felt much better, and was much more productive, though that wasn't the goal.
It may come as a relief to remember that there isn't one "perfect" thing you should be doing with your life right now, and if you're not doing it, you're totally blowing it. That's not true at all. There are 100 different good things you could be doing with your life right now. They would all be nourishing and valuable. You could enjoy each of them if you were doing them.
Remember the line, "It's not getting what you want, it's wanting what you've got?" Block out the thoughts that you should be somewhere else doing something else, and instead soak in the luxurious feeling of enjoying what you're doing now. Little steps. Little joy gets bigger fast.
One lovely day you'll wake up and realize, "I'm a woman now." Then you'll look a little closer saying, "and man am I strong."
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