Getting Out of The Dark

A measurement of how much I have changed over the last 10 months can be surmised in one short midnight chat session on Facebook Messenger.

It started with a concerned inquiry of my well being.
To which I replied all was well on the home front.
Some niceties were exchanged and then came the question:
So are you going back to the church now?
This kind of took me aback.
I'm not a confrontational type person, and this particular kind of confrontation has always made me feel uncomfortable.
I believe that everyone is entitled to their own beliefs and values. As long as you're a person of integrity then I welcome you into my life. I don't care that our belief systems may differ as long as it makes you happy and I'm happy then we can all be happy together.

If the aforementioned question had been asked of me ten months ago, eight months ago -or lets face it, even six months ago I would have either ignored the question, laughed it off, or backpedaled with explanations of my actions.

This time, I didn't do any of those things.
Yes, I go to church.
No, I'm not perfect which is why I'm going to church.

The trouble with changing ones course in life is that sometimes, you end up doing things that people who are familiar with your old patterns aren't used to.

For many personal reasons, I quit going to church.
I felt betrayed and didn't trust the people whom I should have been able to trust.
But that's just it:
The People were the ones I didn't feel right about.
The Church principles that I believe in haven't changed.
It took a really long time (almost 12 years) for me to understand that people are just people.
They're not perfect either and sometimes, they'll make mistakes.

I need this in my life. I lived so many years wandering aimlessly existing but not really living.
I'm not trying to be a hero or anything like that, I just need something to keep me moving.

I'm still learning, and my faith is still growing and some days are a lot easier than other days but it sure is nice to have something to believe in.
As many times as I fail, I'll keep trying again and again because I want to know what it's like...

O Wad Some Pow'r The Giftie Gie Us To See Oursels As Ithers See Us -Robbie Burns

Life is funny. 

I tell myself that a lot even though I don't actually believe that life is as hilarious as I declare it to be.

Increasingly I find life happens exactly the way it needs to be happening at that precise time.

Sometimes that means I fail in areas in which I think I deserve to succeed.

Sometimes I succeed where I think surely I deserve to fail.

Sometimes I try to force success where success shouldn't happen.

Self Analysis has taught me that I do this mostly because I hate to lose.

Losing Sucks.

I think we can all agree on that point.

Unless you're my mom.

My mom doesn't really care whether she wins or loses as long as she's having fun playing the game and no one is fighting.

This Mother's Day, I was on the pleasant end of a few beautifully written messages to me that ironically weren't from my kids 

(cough, cough)

Regardless, the individuals who wrote to me knew nothing of each other yet independently wrote praising me on a quality I wasn't really aware I possess.

In me, each person has recognized an inner strength.

I don't regard myself as a person of strength. 

(Unless we're talking about lifting heavy objects and putting them back down in repetitious sets.)

Case in point: a week ago I embarrassed myself in front of a group of women I have secretly been envious and in admiration of for their endless abundance of talents.

Mortified I wished I could run out of the room, straight home, and bury myself under a pile of blankets only coming up for air on the promise that I never had to set foot out of the house again.

Of course, that wasn't a suitable social grace I could exercise at the time.

Instead, I got to sit whilst it was announced to the room that I had a secret fear of the outside world.

How's that for irony?

That was one of those times where I truly thought I deserved to succeed.

It didn't happen.

I have thought many times over the course of the weekend what deems me worthy of such praise from my friends and family?

What I don't think any of them knew is that they gave me a message I needed to hear this weekend.

Oliver Goldsmith popped into my head with the infamous quote:

"Success consists of getting up one more time than you fall."

I think that goes for the strength of an individual also.

I am so grateful for this reminder from my friends and family.

Thank you for pointing out something that I hadn't really known was there.

I guess if you can believe in me, the least I can do is dust off my jeans and grit my teeth.