Photographs
I always tend to look at old photographs when I've been been really disappointed that something didn't work out.
Travel plans that hit a wall and didn't eventuate.
A job I really wanted and was unsuccessful in my application.
The hope of love which for one reason or another wasn't able to grow into relationship.
A relationship which for one reason or another wasn't able to deepen into love.
I tend to reminisce old photographs, as though it's a way of reminding myself "there was a time before this" and you were happy without it.
It's like I can also remind myself in the same way "this too shall pass."
I'm really sad, and I'm really disappointed this time. Because this time I really did want the plans to work out, and all it really needed was my go-ahead. It was all laid out, on a platter.
And I said no.
They say that children who are securely attached to their mother are able to go out into the world, play, get tired and trustfully come back to their mother to re-energise. After they energise, they go back out into the world, but perhaps this time they may get hurt. Confused, they stagger back to their mother in the hope she will help them make sense of their thoughts and feelings. The child trustfully runs back to her with tears in their eyes and she may scoop them up into her arms, hears their cries and validate their thoughts and feelings. She may then use this opportunity to teach them something about what went wrong and why they got hurt.
This constant secure base from which they go out into the world teaches a child that the world is fun, full of possibilities, adventure and danger, but it is always manageable. There is a way to process what's happened, a way to find nurture, a way to re-energise. The child grows into a healthy adult who genuinely believes that they can make sense of and manage life's fun, scary and hurtful situations.
They turn into adults who can regulate themselves and say "yes, that was a sucky play time, but not all play times are like that, so I will confidently go out and play again"
God is my secure base, and here I am, re-energising and getting comforted. Here he is reminding me that it's going to be ok, that I can trust that the playground is good, but for whatever reason the particular playground I wanted is currently out of bounds.
I want to stamp my feet, and say "no! I want this one!" But I have to trust the Spirit inside of me who says "No. Trust me."
I need to trust the heart in me that just couldn't muster a "yes, I'll play here."
I need to trust the drive which compelled me to action what I did today, convicted that there was no other option.
I walked into today with "not by might, not by power but by the Holy Spirit." (Zechariah 4.6). I'm going to walk that tomorow, too. And the day after that, and the day after that.
Im so sorry. If I could tell that to you again, I would. But I won't pop up on your radar again. I'll let you heal. I probably need to heal too.
I'm going to miss the idea of us. Like a lot. But I won't tell you that either.
Shame on the movie we missed which resulted in us all going to that cool, hip bar. Shame on the wine I sipped that brought down my inhibitions and my misgivings became clear. Shame on the drive home where I verbalised it all to my housemate and I couldn't take it back. Shame on the Sunday morning emotional hangover and the blinding clarity.
I won't tell you that some of the photographs I looked at tonight from 3 years ago, were photographs that I remember thinking about you in. I didn't even know you back then! You were just the quirky guy I observed from afar.
You've set the bar really high, and I feel sorry for the ones who will come after you. Haha :)
I can't force my heart to want something my head tells me is perfect for me. But I really hope it's not by defective default that I've said no. But even if it is, I trust that what God has purposed, He will bring about. Despite my flaws, God has always worked faithfully through my workings and wirings the very best.
On the other hand, a deep part of me wonders whether perhaps I was supposed to meet you as training ground for saying "yes" to some aspects, and "no" to the other aspects. To learn to verbalise my boundaries and limitations in an assertive, respectful, kind and loving manner. To balance listening to my head, listening to my heart and conveying that in a mature way. Not to shy away from conflict, confrontation, difficult and emotionally laden conversations. I've always done that, and now I didn't. I'm sorry it was on you.
You were so mature, so wise and so accepting. Thankyou.
So for now, perhaps actually for always, I will really enjoy having you as the friend that was almost something more. You are my godly, intellectual, mature, arty, friend.
And I will always be yours in that special way.
Perhaps because you will never read this, signed off with warmest regards.
(Because I know you'd see the metaphors in this too)
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