STORY TIME
I was approaching an intersection during a red light when a man on a moped slowly fell to the ground. It was like he just got hit by a gust of wind or an invisible chubby red haired bully kid just kicked his feet out from under him. There was no apparent cause for his fall. There were two lanes and a turn lane and people in cars from all three lanes got out of their cars to assist him. He just laid there, looking around. He didn’t appear to be hurt, just sincerely confused.
There were plenty of people aiding him so I decided to stay in my car and wait for traffic to move again. I looked down at my phone so as not have to look around at the people around me. I got that weird sense that someone was looking at me. I figured it couldn’t hurt to look around since we were stuck here and everyone was probably looking around anyway. However, it felt intrusive for some reason. I cautiously made it look like i dropped my phone and i bent over and upon sitting back up I went for it.
He was less than ten feet from me, for the first time in months. He clearly saw me first. He was looking directly into my eyes and into my soul, shamelessly. He did that back then too. I had a choice to make in that short moment. I could either continue staring at him and acknowledge his existence. OR I could turn my face away and pretend I hadn’t seen him. It hurt me to even hear his name. To look him in the eyes was too much, so I looked away. I could feel him looking at me, long after I had looked away.
Luckily we were only stuck there for a single minute. In that moment it felt like an eternity. I have never felt so impatient. I have never felt so violated without a single physical touch. I had spent the last year trying to get over this man and the pain he had inflicted. In a matter of seconds all the progress I had made seemed to shatter all around me like glass and he was the unruly child that threw the rock.
It was like a weird sad video montage of someone’s life, in those next moments. I was violently thrust into a whirlwind of memories. My mind played back various moments that defined our relationship and other less significant, sweet moments. Feelings I had been repressing and feeling too ashamed of to even acknowledge all came rushing to the surface. God has really good timing. The man on the moped was safely on the median and the two straight lanes freed up and I could drive away without him seeing my tears.
It wasn’t until I got to my friends house that I allowed myself to actually see him. He looked ragged. In the last months that I hadn’t seen him face to face, he had gone through a major change. He was a brand new father of a one month old little boy. His hair looked dirty and his facial hair was out of control. His eyes had that classic new parent sag. It was weird that someone I once was so close to was now filling a completely different role and was someone I knew little about and on top of all that he even looked different.
He looked at me curiously, I hadn’t seen that look on his face in a long time. His mouth was weird. I recognized his lips first, but not the way they were held. It was like he was about to say something, but couldn’t think of the words or he had forgotten my name and was trying to think of a way to address me without using my it. I think I gave him a confused look, but who really knows. It doesn’t really matter anyway.
For a moment I forgot about the man on his moped, until I was retelling the story to my friend. She said it was fitting and when she said that I just shook my head and agreed. Looking back at it, I understand what she means. He was knocked on his behind. He hit the ground hard with what looked like very little force. He wasn’t hit by a bus, he just lost his balance. His entire journey that day (I assume) was smooth and he was getting closer to his destination with every turn of his wheel, but one slip and all the progress he made was still there.
Just because he had fallen down, didn’t mean he got any farther behind. He just hit a rut. He had a choice to make. He could either dust off his clothes clean up his moped and bandage his scrapes and get back on the road and keep going, OR he could lay there and wallow in self-pity and get progressively worse and eventually go backwards.
The progress I have made in getting over him (however much that may be) is still there, it has just simply been clouded. As long as I don’t lay in the street and let my wounds fester and wait for things to get worse, I’m going to recover. I’m going to be fine. In this moment it hurts like Hell – But I will be okay.
I wrote this midsummer 2012. I was brought back to it this week when I was getting frustrated about an issue I’ve been struggling with. I always get caught up in my failures and shortcomings. A slip or fall is devastating to me. I’m harder on myself than I should be. One thing that God has been showing me is that I have a lot of trouble letting go and giving things up to him, specifically, past relationships.
I find myself talking about them way too much. I came to the realization that I’m not over the pain. I’m not over all of the things that have been done to me. I’m not over the way that I acted and reacted towards these men. I’m not over my resentment towards God that formed over that span of time.
Last year was a year of healing for me, I was blessed with a wonderful counselor who worked through so many painful things with me. She fought for me and validated my feelings. We did a lot of work in 2012. Now I have to leave it alone. I have to give it up. I’ve done the work to move on, but I keep getting preoccupied with the momentary slip ups. I think that all I’ve worked for is lost, when all I have to do is get up, dust myself off and give it back to God.
Going into month four I want to be done with all of this. I know it’s a never ending process. But I have found that every single day that I give it over to him, the easier it is. I never understood what it meant to “give it to God”. Here on the race its my only choice. I don’t have any coping mechanisms readily available, (thankfully) and I have to turn to Him. It has seriously been incredible.
Speaking of month four, I still need money for my deadline coming up. I have received gracious amounts of donations thus far but I’m still lacking about $4000. I know that God is working. I pray that you will consider donating, your money will keep me on the race for 3 more months. These next three months are what I was created for. We’re heading to Southeast Asia.
Thailand is our next stop, a huge sex trafficking location. My heart and my passion is for sexual abuse victims. I know without a doubt that this is my calling. That is why I am here asking you to pray, pray for God to provide you with the extra money to send my way. Our lives are about bringing the kingdom. I’m realizing this more and more as I get into the word and visit homes and see Jesus’ face in these beautiful people.
This week when you’re praying for me, I’d appreciate prayers for obedience and funds. Funds for my whole team, cause we ain’t done yet.
