Searching

I wrote this a couple of months ago. I just thought I would share it here.



I think that when things go terribly wrong and leave us shaken, those things can either damage us or begin to complete us. We choose what we do with those things. It is not a one-time choice and then it’s done. It is a daily, maybe even more often, decision.

I think that there is this person that I am meant to become. In a perfect world where everyone does everything right, I would have no problem becoming and maintaining myself as I am meant to be. But our reality is ridiculously far from perfect. So far that I wonder why we even have the word “perfect” in our vocabulary. When I think about what it has cost for me to have a greater understanding of myself and God, I feel very ashamed. Like why couldn’t I have learned those things without the pain. Maybe if I had been smarter or more insightful or whatever, I wouldn’t have had to loose four babies in a row to get it. And the thing is that I still don’t get it. I seem to regress all the time in what I thought I knew. Slowly, I begin to loose sight of the things that I held onto for life during the hard times. They are all taken for granted. And I begin to worry about what it will take for me to not be so flippant about what I have. What or who will be taken next?

But that sure puts me in a higher position that what I should be in, I think. Like the babies were sacrificed so that I might have a deeper meaning to my life. Like my finding myself was more important than their existence. And I don’t believe that. Strange thoughts dance around in your head when you are trying so desperately to figure out the reason behind certain events. Who am I to try and find a reason for any of it anyway? Who are any of us to try to do that? We search. That’s what we do in this life. We search for things. And understanding is just one of those things we search for.