Monday, November 12, 2007

Picking up Shattered Dreams

What a woeful week this past one has been! I've been through a roller coaster of emotions trying to categorize and prioritize everything, but it is to no avail!

I'm continuing to see and hear the personal connections within the Mass readings these days, and it makes me want for the next day even more. I fell back a few steps last week in my heart and with my actions toward God, but I'm further bolstered now in His Grace for the week ahead.

Furthermore, I've started to let more things out into the open from my heart, to explore deeper with others what all that's within means for me. I need to still find out if this twisting and pulling that God is doing to my heart is something that is pushing me in a new direction in my vocation: to the Church or to continue to explore the eventual path married life. I continue to test the water still but with that ever-present toe in the water. But how do I long for a family, too! So many questions pop up, but through God's grace I am able to continue to explore the human heart even more with as delicate touch as I can deliver. This love that I feel for the Other is not blind, no, but I still do love her dearly. How dearly!

I am reminded of the Nina Simone song from Bella (which I promise to post about eventually), Nearer Blessed Lord:
I am Thine, O Lord, I have heard Thy voice,
And it told Thy love to me;
But I long to rise in the arms of faith,
And be closer drawn to Thee.

Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To the cross where Thou hast died;
Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To Thy precious, bleeding side.

Consecrate me now to Thy service,
By the power of grace divine;
Let my soul look up with a steadfast hope,
And my will be lost in Thine

Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To the cross where Thou hast died;
Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To Thy precious, bleeding side

My soul look up with a steadfast hope,
my will be lost in Thine

So draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To the cross where Thou hast died;
Draw me nearer, nearer, blessed Lord,
To Thy precious, bleeding side
I want the married life; I want the romance, the passion, the hassle, the sacrifice of married life. It is an alluring rose blossom dancing in the wind, its stem bowing back and forth in the wind.

I love Christ, His Church, and His will with all my passion. I move within the dark. The voices speak to me in the dark, and I am put to rest contemplating the emptiness I feel. I have felt that for nights without end these past months. Some nights are better, but I still return to the sadness, the desolation that comes out of not seeing a fulfilled romance. I question God. I've gotten angry with Him, angry to the point of sin. Then the remorse comes; I feel the actions that I've done act like a scythe across the belly, pouring out blood—my blood—onto the parched ground below. I have caused this sin, no one else but me, and yet my sadness remains even after forgiveness. Why? Happiness hasn't been found. I have distanced myself from the Font of my being.

What are we to do in the bouts of desolation? We are to turn to our friends. They are those who act in Christ's tread. We are to love each other with a love so grand. And yet, I feel the darkness no matter the amount of love God puts into my life. It's there, a specter of sadness. I grow weary of the future ahead, and then rays of light come in to brighten the day.

It's in those unexpected times of peace that come when bundled with sorrows, reminders of unfulfilled love, that move me the most. I had one last week and wrote about it. It was like a waterfall rushing over me, and my breath was taken from me. The words came to me the following day:

Standing Next to You

The cold is out this solemn night;
With each step, I feel its touch.
We move in the darkness,
Step by step, in bitter silence.

I feel the cold between us,
Distance brought by brutal reality,
One where touch is an impossibility
And everything isn’t as it once was.

I measure every step
And count every breath.
How many nights haven’t I slept?
How many times have I wept?

We take our place on the route
To mark with others the end of another’s life.
How so is life full of chance,
But still I don’t know why you’re in mine.

Standing next to you,
I wish you could be mine
And that I could be yours, too.
Then my heart would be fine.

I stand there next to you.
How do I still long for you!
There my heart remains, silent for you,
Glad to be just next to you.

The rifle volleys are fired,
And the bugle calls out mournfully.
We shuffle away that night quietly
With my heart so greatly moved.

How do I tell you
Of the love I feel for you,
Of the feeling that within me grew,
And rid myself of these bonds, too?

The cold still remains with me
Even after that fateful night.
My heart still yearns for you,
But I must defer my happiness for thine.

My wish to our Maker then is only this:
Take away my happiness if it means for her only bliss.

The words above are nothing more than a reflection of those sorrows, sorrows caused by distance that was no fault of our own or of God's either for that matter. But these are sorrowful distances nevertheless that I've decided to put to words. There is not a night that I don't think about her, but I still don't know where she belongs in my life. I am mystified and continue to wrap myself in a cloudy dream watching as the clouds drift on by.

I delay my happiness for the safety of hers and to not break the tranquility found even amid the sorrowful doldrums of my heart. How do I love her! But I cannot.

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