oh.

Someone told me what someone else told them. The news was bad. It is supposed to be good news; the happiest news. Bad to me; the worst to me. One of my closest friends a year ago who deposed of my friendship because of what I am about to say is about to marry one of my closest friends of many years who was formerly about to marry the same fellow.

And my heart is grieved with sorrow.

So it seems like God wrote your action movie.

Let me tell you a story. If you think you’ve heard it before, don’t stop me.

So once you were this fine young person in a great family. I mean, Dad was stellar, big Brother was a totally awesome role model, et cetera. Then this really bad dude (and I mean really, really bad) kidnaps you. Demands a ransom of like, 100 million dollars. And since your Dad is the richest guy in the world (hence the giant ransom), Dad’s like, “Whatever it takes.” But your Brother is like, “No, Dad. Let ME go and switch out and take care of it. You know I love that kid and would do anything to keep them safe.” So Dad is like, “Well, okay, Son.” So your Brother goes and the really bad dude lets you go. THEN he kills your Brother. You’re devastated. BUT your Brother is super smart and awesome and had a plan. He didn’t stay dead. SHAZAM. Brother is alive and kicks the really bad dude’s butt. Goes back home where you all party forever because you’re all glad to be alive and back in Dad’s house and the really bad dude is gone forever.

Sounds like some summer blockbuster, doesn’t it? Except it’s not. It’s my story. Maybe your story. But for some, the ending goes like this:

Brother is alive and kicks the really bad dude’s butt. Then you turn to your Brother and are all, “What the heck, man, why’d you do that? He was going to take me to this totally ballin’ party and we were going to get into all kinds of awesome trouble and it would be great, but you just ruined it for me by knocking him into oblivion. What am I supposed to do now?!” And your Brother says “Well, um. We were going to have a party, ourselves and celebrate for basically ever because I just saved you back there but if you don’t want to come, then that’s up to you. We’ll still be celebrating the fact that the really bad dude is gone, but it would be better if you were there. We’ll be mourning the loss of you. But it’s up to you. Go if you want to go.” So you’re like, “Fine! I will!” And then leave the Brother who just saved your ass and the Dad who was willing to pay the 100 million dollar ransom to go find some party the really bad dude told you about where you end up getting killed by something that you thought was going to be fun.

Not so fun. Not so great. Not such a blockbuster. Because no one wants to see that film. The film that ends in the death of the person who was being rescued and the sorrow of the one who was doing the rescuing. People might put up with a prison sentence at the end of a movie if some noble cause was in fact executed through whatever means, but total death of the main character in an action film? No sequel potential. No one’s buying that. Yet many people buy it for their real life, the one that happens off the screen. Why? Someone answer this question for me, because I am boggled. 

Grieved

That's what I am. Upon discovering that a once trusted friend, who has fallen from the grace of many, has made every motion to remove me from her life. I, who tried to help her. To teach her. To give her all that I could, even after she hurt me beyond recognition. I, who tried to be selfless only to realize that my self would be destroyed by her actions if I did not recede. I tried. I failed. And now any chance I may have ever had to hope that one day it could be reconciled has been squashed. My hope has been squashed. My faith (that this relationship could one day be joined again in some manner) is gone.

But there must be still more grace for Grace.

I suppose this is what they call, "turning the other cheek."

Well they are both grieved. I suppose sometimes people disappoint you more than you knew you could be disappointed.

i can't sleep.

Things have happened since last I posted.

I'm learning what it is to be loved. And how easy it can be to love someone who loves you in return. It is far easier than when they do not. It makes me think of how painful it must be for God to love people who don't love Him. To be ignored, as though He were not there. It's painful enough for one person to do it to another. But for populations of people created by Him to care not...one cannot even imagine how grievous it must be. Sometimes I feel as though I must be like the prostitute-turned-wife, who keeps falling back to her old life. But He comes for me and catches me up from it. And soon enough, His love will be so overwhelming that I will never dare try to leave His presence, "for your husband is your Maker, whose name is the Lord of Hosts."

It hurts to be brushed off. I can think of one who was close to me who is not, now. Every time I see her, I am grieved, for it was a relationship I cherished. I am saddened. I did not know that one decision could begin a series of dominoes that yet continues to be hurtful. Do people not care? They must know. Or do they not have ears for hearing? As long as they do, they must know. Do they not care? Does she not care? I hope she is happy. I hope at least that she has found joy in my pain. To put both in pain would be nonsensical.

But I suppose people are just that; nonsensical.

Divine Serendipity

‎...God has this funny little way of using my OWN writing to tell me something when I won't listen, sometimes. And of using it to shed light on other situations. And it's not really funny at all. Actually, 'tis rather mindboggling.

I've been reading my scribbles blog for a while, this evening, hoping to osmosis inspiration for my college application essay. I'm applying to the University of Chicago and their essays are famously interesting. On some rare occasions, I, myself, am found to be famously interesting. Not recently. Recently, I have had nothing interesting to say. No profound remarks regarding anything. All profound remarks have been channeled into thought for my mythical screenplay, the one I have been talking about writing since the ninth grade. As I have finally started it, I have no inspiration for anything else, it seems. Ironically enough, I hardly have any inspiration for it, either.

Point being this: I've read things I wrote six months, a year, two years, and found them to speak to me exactly where I am now. Regarding things that are going on right now. Things that are specifically mine and things that I am helping friends deal with. As though they were spoken by a great sage especially to shed light on the situations, they profess great wisdom. Where did that wisdom come from? I tend to be a great dunce most of the time. I suppose God can use Me Two Years Ago to speak to Me Now. It's rather spectacular, though, that I knew exactly what to say that would be exactly what I need to hear, and didn't know it. Divine serendipity.

I'm going to post a few of these divinely appropriated bits of writing that I have restumbled across. All's well. See below.