Breaking

Humility…the willingness to be teachable. I had all I was willing to take. The pain, the hurt, the frustration, three blades on a blender cutting me to pieces. I said in my heart if God won’t save me, I’ll save myself. Good plan, except I’ve never ever been able to save myself from anything.

I made my plans. Patience long gone, I felt the fabric of my life beginning to unravel. Soon, my fears scream, it will break. Something has to give. Either something on the outside, or something on the inside. Fear gripped me saying that if I break inside once more I will plunge into the hopeless abyss. So I made my plans. I would find a way to create the fourth leg of my table. I will break the outside situation and force a change or die trying…

And once I set myself, I refused to listen to any other possibility. Because every other possibility seemed to include enduring the pain a little longer. Stiff-necked and proud I stood and declared I have taken more than I should have to take…I will take no more.

Four times today I heard from wise friends that I should at least consider the idea that maybe, just maybe, God doesn’t want me to run off half-cocked, on my own, to beat at the obstacles in my life until something gives. Each time I gave the same flippant and angry response. I’d love to stay, but if God wants me to stay, bread better fall from heaven or a job fall into my lap before I can acquire other transportation because I’m out of here. Not my will but God’s a dear friend texted to me today. I responded that I can NOT believe the current situation is God’s will. Why? Because it hurts. Because it isn’t mine. I might as well have shouted not thou will be done but mine…unless you can come around to my way of thinking.

A couple of hours after I shared in this blog God saying to me peace be still, a good friend told me, I know it isn’t easy, but sometimes you just have to get still. At that time she didn’t even know about the blog. At what point do I finally say ok, maybe I should listen. Maybe I don’t have the answer. Maybe I should regain a teachable spirit. Humble myself and be ok with not getting my way.

A friend I greatly respect told me today that going off without a plan and no money might not be the best idea. My response showed my frustration. He asked me to hold off doing anything and talk to him this evening. I agreed.

Two days ago my sponsor told me to make a business plan...something I did not and do not really want to do. I am afraid that if I look too closely at the dream it will crumble, wash away like a fantasy sand castle as the tide of reality washes in. I had a plan. Hit the galleries. Knock on enough doors until someone let me in. And the fact that I was leaving NOW meant I didn’t have the time to look any closer than that, to do the assignment the person I asked to help me gave me to do.

As my anger died, my energy went with it. Like a child who falls into a fitful sleep moments after throwing a temper tantrum, I began to crash. I almost fell asleep during the afternoon meeting I attended. I texted my friend who had so graciously offered to sacrifice his time to talk me through this insanity and frustration I feel. I truthfully said I feel exhausted and planned to simply go home and crash. I’d talk to him tomorrow. Besides I knew what he was going to say I told myself. It wasn’t that the galleries were a bad idea, but there was something wrong with the way I was setting out. I didn’t want to hear it. Which is crazy, because I don’t know what he was going to say. I figured he’d say that because deep down the voice I didn’t want to hear was saying just that. Over and over. Make a plan. It’s time to move but do it wisely and informed. Don’t just react, prepare. Preparation takes too long. I have to do something now. I have to flee. I have to change something in hopes that I will find a moments relief from the fear.

Panic. Totally filled and driven by panic I said it doesn’t matter what I do as long as I do something. I have to move. I can’t sit still. God says wait, get still, and I insist I can’t, I have to move. Ready to run into the hurricane because the sound of the winds whipping at the walls of my shelter are driving me insane.

I returned the keys to my mother's mini-van I borrowed and started for my house. This is when I ran into my father. We discussed my car. What needs to be done there will be done. It may not happen fast though. He then said if we put a couple of new tires on their extra mini-van it would be safe to take that. Not as fast as I wanted, which was days ago, but suddenly my path to escape began to look clear again. I told him I have to do something. I have put in over 300 applications in the past four months. He said he understood, and that he was proud of me for trying as long as I have. For making it this long without giving up. My defenses dropped. The idea is sound, he continued, and should be pursued, but it would be better to have a solid base to work from.

One of the first places I applied for a job a year ago is under new management he told me. This is an old wound. My parole officer sent me to that place to apply, so I felt safe walking in only to be told they would not hire someone with my charge. I remember standing in the parking lot crying after. I felt ambushed. Surely my parole officer should of known better than to send me there. Why would he do that to me? To make matters worse, it’s a job I never really wanted in the first place. A nasty, smelly, labor intensive, doesn’t quite measure up to blue collar work kind of place. But I had lowered my standards and applied only to be refused. It devastated me. It’s one of the few places I never tried to find employment at again as I have searched for work over the past ten months.

They’re under new management and desperate for workers. Would I be willing to try again, my father asked. I don’t want to. I hate the work and I’m afraid of yet another rejection…but yes, I am willing. The pay is not bad. It isn’t good, but it’s not bad. If I have a job there, my time to hit galleries would be extremely limited, but I could chip away at the debt I have acquired in the past year, earn my way, support myself, and still have a little time here and there to chase the dream of better. No chance of instant success this way, but much less chance of disaster. A pretty good chunk of the simplistic version of the American Dream as I defined it yesterday.

I believe God gave me a gift. I am an artist. I believe that the dream that fills my spirit blossomed from a seed planted by the hand of the Master Artist. It’s not that I won’t get my way if I slow down. It’s not so black and white, surrender to mediocrity or chase the dream. It’s that maybe there’s a smarter way to follow the rainbow. A safer way. And a way that actually has a greater chance at success. What a thought. But I have to humble myself enough to listen. I have to be willing to swallow my pride and say, well, I needed to do it another way, so I am not making it happen now, even if I look like a fool for making plans I did not follow through with. I need to be teachable and willing to listen to my God and those with more experience than I whose judgement is not clouded by pain and fear ( at least where I am concerned).

So I surrender. I will be still. I will put my trip on hold…a few days, or a week, perhaps longer. I will plan it. I will make the business plan I was told to make (or at least try). I will swallow my pride once more and reapply tomorrow for the job at the place that has been suggested multiple times over the months by many different people, the one place I refused to try again. I will listen and wait. And seek guidance. And calm down. Release my panic, admit my fear and face it without trying to force a solution this very second. Instant gratification, my favorite form of self-sabotage. I will see what my Higher Power has for me instead of simply trying to make something from nothing myself. I will admit I was wrong. Be ok with looking the fool. And try a wiser path.

I humble myself enough to admit that perhaps, what I most feared, that I would break soon, is exactly what needed to happen.