Are We There, Yet?

My colors are starting to show.

I went to a Masquerade Ball last night…my first big outing as a divorcée.  I went, expecting to have a “plus one.”  Circumstances beyond their control left me minus one.  I was afraid I would mope all night, but that didn’t happen.  That didn’t happen at all.

I suppose that was the advantage of having lived, simultaneously, with and without someone for so long. I have the distinct advantage of learning to carry myself as if I was unattainable, yet fully free to ‘move about the building.’  I went about the business of having a FANTASTIC time; laughing, talking, mingling, dancing and flirting…pretty much like I always do.

There are two things I know, for certain, about myself.  I cannot and will not be bound by what is expected of me, in any position I maintain; I will do whatever pleases me, so long as it pleases God. I am not made to live alone.

I am a help meet.  Not every woman has the ‘stones’ to say that.  I know that is what I am.  There is a ‘magic’ to what I can do and how I manifest God’s glory when I am properly covered.  I really am every woman (not all at once, mind you…I’m not schizophrenic).  It really is all in me. And one day, some lucky man will get to have it all, and we will both be forever changed by it.

But last night, I got to be free a little bit.

It was funny to see the reaction of some of my friends who had never really seen that side of me.  It was nothing major, just a few looks of bemused curiosity.  I didn’t give them much thought; too busy having fun.  I was brave. I was funny. I was loud. I was raucous.  I was sexy. I was ME.

And it was good.



The Mysterious Difference…

I cannot begin to explain this process, or what simple, divine revelation has resulted from it.  It took the letting go of who I was and the things to which I had become accustomed, to realize that there really is so much more for me to embrace, to observe, to experience.

I do not deny that I have truly known great love. It was a love that enabled, even facilitated my survival.  For all that it was, it lacked some very critical components.  Things I learned to live without.

The story of my life…at least it was.

And then I saw a glimpse of what it would be like to live with those things I had learned to live without.  Much like in 1 Corinthians 13; first through a glass darkly and then face to face.  The possibility became the probability, became the eventuality, became the promise. The mysterious difference between surviving and thriving; between great and greater and greatest.

We sing songs about expecting the great.  We make these grand declarations about greater things coming to pass.

How would you respond in the face of the promise being fulfilled?

I wept…and said, “Thank You.”

My Beloved, Intended

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”  I have heard some variation of that proverb quite a few times in recent weeks.  It usually refers to people who are “pathologically altruistic.”

Interestingly enough, I learned about pathological altruism by looking up the phrase above. As it turns out, that idiom is true: (thank you, Ronald Bailey).

But I have learned this truth, the hard way, so long ago that it has now become intrinsic to me. You can mean to do good for someone or to someone who is not in a position to receive the good you’ve done and it will backfire on you…most violently, on many occasions.

The least (and many times, the most) we can do is offer a hand, or a word, or an ear.  What another person does with that offering is not your business.  The love was in the offering.  That has to be enough. I’m okay with that…now.

Barbarossa – Bloodline: Bloodline

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