Dead

I can see how I was led here. How God has brought me along at the pace at which I could learn, and yet did not let me languish, even when I questioned Him. A lot. I still only have a vague idea where I'm going, but I know where I am now and I know that's it is just where I should be.

Over the course of this week, I have finally come to see a part of my life, my former relationship, as dead. Not “not breathing but might gasp for breath”-dead. Not Princess-Bride-“mostly dead is still partly alive”-dead. Dead. We're talking about “dribble your handful of dirt on the coffin and step along” dead. “Leave your flowers at the headstone” dead. “It's been three days and surely [it] stinketh” dead. (There, got my Scripture in there.)

For weeks, I have sat quietly at the base of the freshly-turned dirt, waiting in vain for some miracle. Do I believe that God is all-powerful? Yes. Do I believe that he could make the dead walk, and the dry bones live? Yes. However, it would always have to be in his timing, not what Kenton imagines God's timing to be. And there is no miracle today.

Is there a time to mourn that which is past? Of course, such is natural and good. Is it healthy to remain in the grief forever, though? No, it's healthy to live and live your life right to its edge. It's time for me to get up from the grave, from the dirt pile, and move on. Life awaits, and to honor the one who has given it to me, I walk on.

No more am I to be chained down by the past. The past is the past, and although our choices have consequences, I serve a God who forgives and redeems. I serve a God whose plan for my life is so much better and bigger than I can imagine. The past will not bind me.

Neither will I feel bound to a destiny. My destiny is mine, mine and God's alone. Though I may have felt “locked in” to a plan and a trajectory, the entire world is open to me, both better and worse than that for which I thought I was headed. Again, I find that I must trust God to direct my steps and trust that He will keep me back from the precipice and on the razor-thin path to His very best in my life.

Already, I'm finding dusty boxes that I threw onto the back shelves of my life while I was dating. Their contents are neither good nor bad, but stuff that I had either neglected or actively left behind for various reasons. The past couple weeks have been a time of “Oh, I had forgotten about this” and “No way, I didn't know I could still do that.”.

Onward and upward, to quote C.S. Lewis. Life feels like a runaway horse that I'm riding bareback, but I have both hands wound into the mane and know that it won't (necessarily) dump me into the ground at high speed.