The idea of writing confronts me like a hesitant embrace from a long estranged dear friend, chilled by the apprehension of having yet to discover what has changed and what remains the same. Have to wake up by six in the morning but let’s keep each other up for old time’s sake. Good phrase, would be nice to hear more often.
Quick glance at the past and suffice it to say that God brought me back east because I was a wreck and needed healing that could only be had through the love and prayers of sisters and brothers who have traveled much further beyond the narrow gate. The song goes “scars are souvenirs you never lose” and mine assure me I have absolutely nothing in myself of which I can boast, only ever in the work of the gospel. Cured my incessant need to venture into dark and choppy waters, my limp and I would prefer to stay on the shore from now on tyvm.
The greatest gift thus far of my early thirties is that I have learned to be more patient with and understanding of the flaws of others and not take everything so d*mn personally. When I let go of the desire to protect myself it freed me up to actually listen and care for others, which I had been so blindly convinced that I’d been doing all along. Not so much that this heart is not worth protecting, but that it is not of such great consequence regardless. Huge. Revelation. Praying that God will continue to give me wisdom in interactions.
Since childhood, there has always been the theme of not being seen. My mother has been visiting frequently since the birth of nephew. And it’s not like she had not taken an interest in my life before, but for some reason these past few months it feels like she notices me as a person, and not as a question that needs to be solved. She even told me she thought I was pretty, which I don’t recall her ever saying. I literally said in my head, caught off-guard, “내가 이제 보이나? You can see me?” It’s sad because I know she loved me, but it had been miscommunicated and misinterpreted for so long. Same thing for other family members. Old relationships, new light.
Can’t change the past but by grace the lessons learned won’t go to waste. This one’s dedicated to memories and once dear friends.
WYSINWYG 