January 13, 2015, 1:45AM
I’m in another’s arms.
(To clear up confusion, this first section is not about my later mentioned ex-fiancée)
Who do you think you are? What makes you think you can control me? I don’t owe you anything. Get your hands off of me.
The night got dark all of a sudden. “That’s fitting” I remember thinking, “now it matches my eyes.” At that point, he could’ve done anything he wanted to me & it wouldn’t have mattered…in fact, he did. I had lost touch with reality. I had sunk so far into my own mind that it was as if I was no longer attached to my body. I had created a safe-house in my head; a place where I could escape to when things went wrong. Things were going wrong…again.
He did with me as he pleased. I resisted physically at first but then, the deeper I sunk into my head, the less I put up a fight. My voice was the last part of me still fighting for freedom. I asserted myself, “No. I don’t want to! Stop!” But, clearly, it wasn’t enough. What I was saying didn’t matter to him. Similar to me, he had gone to a different place in his head. He wasn’t himself anymore. The old him would’ve listened to me- would’ve shown some common decency or at least respect for his fellow human kind. As I’m learning though, I recognize that as a “what if scenario”. I can’t change what happened to me in the past just like you can’t change the weather by thinking hard enough. It’s something out of my control.
Control is a sort of illusion. I’m noticing that the only thing I truly control is myself. I have the power to get up out of bed, walk outside, & do as I please. I started in Ohio & I’m in Africa right now! If that doesn’t suggest control, I don’t know what does.
If things don’t go the way I’ve intended them to, then I can still control the way I react to them. I can change my mindset to one of humbled gratitude…or one of limitless & frustrating impatience. It’s up to me how I see the world. I can see it as a beautifully inspiring place full of abounding opportunity, or I can see it as a dying planet plagued by a suffering breed that is solely focused on selfish priorities. I can control my attitude, I can control my body parts, & I can control my reactions. That is all.
As for everything else, I must learn to release this fantasy of control – otherwise, I am resigning myself to a miserable life full of less than successful attempts at happiness, satisfaction, & predictability.
The interesting thing about the past is that even though it’s already happened and it’s over with, it still has the power (if I let it) to affect me now in the present & even later in the future.
Out of every powerful or not so powerful force that was or still is in my life, I must admit that my past had the most authority over me. It could control me like nothing else. I could be having the best day of my life when all of a sudden a memory would emerge from the pain & rubble that I keep locked away in my head.
Today, for example, the memory is one of my ex-fiancée.
The scene opens up slowly at first but then as I allow it to, it erupts in colors, old emotions, & disturbingly realistic feelings: He’s smiling at me. He’s just finished cooking his “world-renowned” stir fry for our 2 year dating anniversary. His eyes whisper a thousand things to me. I feel safe and loved in his presence- like nothing in the world can get to me. I’m standing to the side in the kitchen as he rushes about setting up the kitchen table with decorated plates, fake crystal glasses, our hand-made attempt at a wine-cooling bucket (its job is to cool two sodas), matching silverware, & folded napkins. He wants everything to be perfect for me. In the past, we had tried to do something special on the 29th of every month but it never quite worked out. So this was us trying to catch up & still make each other feel special.
At this point, I had two jobs, a family that wanted me around more than I cared to be, a best friend that knew just about everything there is to know about me, an older sister who was desperate to see me succeed in the areas I had admittedly already failed in, & the unfinished paperwork for an application to a mission trip that I hoped would change my life.
My opinion of myself was as low as could be. I had emotionally cheated on my fiancée more times than I care to admit, and all I wanted to do was keep him happy & forget about the nagging voices in my head that reminded me that I wasn’t supposed to be with him. I remember the night God first told me not to be with him….I remember it as clearly as I can feel the rain falling on my face here in Africa.
Back to the memory: my fiancée finished setting everything up & I skipped my way over to the table to help put “a lady’s touch” on the setup. I draped the table cloth over the table, folded the napkins, & aligned the silverware & glasses the way I’d been trained to at my 5 star steak-house job. My fiancée smiled at me from across the table as I strained to make everything perfect for us. He touched my hand as I began to refold my napkin for the 4th time, “it’s beautiful, Vashti. Beautiful like you. Let’s get to the food, huh?”
I blushed and looked away. I was never good at being told I was beautiful- I simply didn’t believe it. Sure, I believed that I had a nice body & that a lot of the men I knew wanted to have sex with me…but I did not believe that I was beautiful. I didn’t believe it when my parents, my siblings, my best friends, or my coworkers said it. The only time I slightly accepted the compliment was when he said it. It hurt me to see him still loving me after all the pain I’d put him through.
It wasn’t just a sense of duty that held me to him- I was truly in love with this man. I wanted to make him happy. I wanted to grow old with him, laugh about our friends & family, get to know him even deeper than I already did. I had ruined this dream of ours too many times already. Even though God answered my prayers for clarity & told me to leave him, I still refused. My fiancée had been there for me through everything, & in my head it was my job to stay with him no matter the cost. We were in love, & he did his best to treat me right & provide for me. I constantly found myself wondering why that wasn’t enough.
We sat down to eat, & he served me like a gentleman. I never got to see him acting so prim and proper again. He took care in every action from picking up the skillet to serving up the rice. He was showing me how proud he was to have cooked for us in every move he made. It broke my heart to see him care so much.
I fought back flashbacks of times I had been unfaithful to him as he leaned over the table for a kiss. He knew the truth. We just didn’t want to talk about it. As I swallowed regret, he cracked open the glass soda bottles that we had chilling on ice. They were his favorite kind from childhood, & he had taken the time to find them at a local grocery store. He told the story of the first time he’d had them, & I did my best not to cry. It was always special to me when he opened up about his past- he had a lot of trust issues due to his unfortunate upbringing. He had walked out of a debilitatingly painful past into what was supposed to be a successful & joyful future with me. I told myself countless times that I couldn’t ruin “this” for him & that “he’s been through enough pain already.”
He spent the rest of the night in splendid joy. I had borrowed a guitar for him to start learning, & we took it to a music store to get it tuned after which we stopped by my house to say hello to my family (the gaps had all been bridged by now & everyone loved & accepted him). Everything was perfect from the outside & all I wanted to do was down a bottle of liquor & fall into his arms. I wanted to forget everything bad that I’d ever allowed to happen. I wanted to get God to shut up about the fact that I wasn’t supposed to be with him. I wanted to let go of all inhibition & just “for once be happy & not hate myself.”
Every time he would look at me, his love was enough to make me sick. I would constantly ask myself, “What am I doing? I love him more than myself…I have to stay with him..we’re engaged…that means something, right?” My family didn’t know we were engaged even though it’d been official for over a year. That made me sick too. This was not how I had pictured my life going.
I was never much for planning, but I certainly had had a different picture in mind for my future. I was supposed to get a cool job, fall in love with the perfect man, my family would love him & his family would love me, we’d get married, we’d follow Jesus for the rest of our lives, & then we were going to ride off into the sunset on two beautiful horses (that way I could ride as fast as I wanted to). As far as I understood it, that was a decent & realistic plan.
So how did I get here? How did I end up in the arms of a wonderful man that was not meant for me? How did I then later end up in countless sets of arms that belonged to men that didn’t deserve me? Men that didn’t protect me. Men that took advantage of me. How did any of this happen?
How did I go from an innocent, unassuming, & unsuspecting little girl to the unfortunate mess of a 21 & then 22 year old that I was then?
———————————————-
The first time I sat down to write this blog I was in Malawi, Africa. I’ve been trying to put an ending on this blog since then. Now, 5 months later, I’m in Thailand & I think I’ve got it.
———————————————-
That’s a long story for another time.
What’s important now is the ending. In the past 5 months, I have learned to let go of control & allow God to do the work.
I never thought that I would get to where I am today. I am free from my past. It no longer has a hold over me. I danced through the red light district the last time I went through it. I was full of joy in the shadowlands that represented my past & that used to haunt me.
Do you know what freedom is? Freedom is following Jesus. Freedom is obeying his calling on our lives. Freedom is letting God call the shots.
My relationship with my ex-fiancée used to be one of the multitudes of scars that used to cover my heart. I couldn’t think about him without feeling like I was drowning in an ocean of regrets, confusion, sorrow, & anger.
Let me tell you about today. Today, I’m happy to say that I’m fully funded thanks to a final donation that pushed me over the edge & then also provided for my entrance fee to project searchlight after the race. Who sent in that donation? My ex fiancée. It wasn’t asked for, it wasn’t prompted, it wasn’t offered- it was just given.
I’ve been praying for him & I for reconciliation- for friendship, for healing of both our hearts, for freedom – since the third month on the race (Peru). Today I’m happy to proclaim that God answers prayers. He’s answered my prayer for funding & for reconciliation in one fail swoop.
God answers prayers. He is the Redeemer. He is bigger than anything you could ever imagine. He is real. He is there at your side even now. Let him step in. Give him your messes. Give him your struggles. He wants to help you. Let him show you how much he loves you. Trust him. He will carry you as far as you need to be taken. He will help you to learn to walk. To run. To fly.
How do I know all of this is true? How do I know you can trust him? Because he has done all of that for me in the past 9 months of the World Race.
Trusting God can be terrifying because you can’t see him & you don’t always hear from him (or you never hear from him) but I promise you that that doesn’t change the fact that he’s real & faithful to those who call upon his name.
I’ve found that learning to have faith in God is a process & a difficult one at that. I think it’s explained best in the book of Mark (9:24) when a father exclaims, “I believe! Help my unbelief!” to Jesus as a miracle is being performed.
God is at work around us constantly. We just can’t always see the miracles he’s working. Ask him to provide you with faith & he will.
I am no longer afraid. I am no longer trapped. I’ve been set free. I want everyone to know my Savior.
I’m overjoyed to admit that these days I am in another set of arms. I’m held by the man who will never let me go – who will always protect me – who has been chasing me since day one.
I’m in the arms of another. I’m in the arms of Jesus.
Till next time,
~ Vashti W.
