Perfect Love

"There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear..." (1 John 4:18)

“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear…” (1 John 4:18)

 

“Fear separates us from God’s perfect love. We doubt His intentions and then take back the control for ourselves; our imperfect, broken selves. Don’t let fear motivate or direct you, but allow your identity to be so steeped in the perfect love God has for you, that it doesn’t matter what voices or visions of fear are presented, you know that God has you and will lead you into a future that is good.” (@pocketfuel on Instagram)

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Gracious

I’ve always said that I’m better with words, as far as writing what I feel and need to say because my head and heart can become so overwhelmed. I’m writing this one for you. And maybe it’s more for myself–because there’s plenty I’ve wanted to say–but instead of being able to speak these words to you, I’d choke on them, second guessing my thoughts and what needed to be expressed. You don’t have to do that when you write. Once you put them down, they’re there for good; to stay.

It was a song that brought all this on–you know how I am about music–it’s called “Promise” by Ben Howard. You could look for it, but knowing you, I’ll either have to send it to you via text or post it for you. It never bothers me anyhow.

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I’ve been thinking a lot, about everything that’s happened between us in a not so short period of time. Sometimes it’s confusing and other times it’s a bit remorseful; knowing that I was so happy and content with you in the place we were in and no longer being there now. 

I came to a weird realization. The reason I can’t be angry about the situation–because believe me, I’d much rather be angry; it’d be easier–is because I came to care for you so much and so intensely. When I felt that what we had was compromised by something I couldn’t control, it tore me apart. What I feel now, aren’t emotions of anger or hatred. It’s hurt and loss, and I hurt because I felt that I’d lost you. Crazy as it may seem, I could sense exactly when you pulled away from me. It was like getting bad phone reception–when everything gets cut into half sentences and you can’t understand what the other person is trying to convey.

I came to understand you–too clearly–in such an extraordinary way that it seemed to have both of us in a daze. It’s nothing I regret; telling you exactly about yourself. Someone had to reassure you of all those unnecessary doubts.

Maybe that’s what this was all about, ya know? Maybe we tried to take something that wasn’t meant for forever–something that was only temporary–and tried to make it something it wasn’t supposed to be. Crappy realization isn’t it? But that doesn’t make it horrible. I think we crossed paths purposely; for a reason. I think, you needed to remember how to be content with yourself, to regain your self assurance. Maybe you lost it somewhere along the harder paths you’ve gone down, but I wanted you to remember. You had so much that you were dealing with and I could see how hard it was for you to deal with those things, to come to realizations that made you unhappy. I saw you overcome some of those things as well though, and if there had to be any reward in all of this, that would be it. I think you found yourself in a place that made you happy, and honestly, that’s all I wanted.

Whatever you choose to do, be sure that it makes you happy. Don’t let yourself recoil back to the same dark places that you fought to get out of, because that’s exactly what you did; you fought to bring yourself where you are now.

Always chase your dreams, even though you’re doubtful of your true talent, you have a gift. [:

Don’t be so afraid to show people that you’re genuinely a good person. I know you’ve got your walls built around you–and for good reason–but I think I’ve learned myself that we can’t always assume that there are people who want to hurt us, that there’s still plenty of good people, and we still have those who truly do love and care for us.

“Cause I, adore you so. When it all comes clear–the wind is settled–I’ll be here, you know.”

 

Nightcall

[Sometimes, I like to recommend others to listen to a certain song as a backdrop while reading something I wrote. With that being said, if I were you, I’d go ahead and click the link below.] http://

It’s Sunday. The only reason I’m even remotely aware of this is because, one, we have church this morning, and two, I’m not sitting behind a teller window waiting on irate members. You’d think I’d be in more of a chipper mood, but let me assure you, it’s not that simple, nor am I feeling the need to be chipper. I think the word we’d be looking for here is sullen; maybe disappointed even, but certainly not chipper.

I want to say forgive me for my honesty in this more recent post, but I’m not sure if forgiveness is exactly what I’m going to need. Reassurance seems to be a more rational thing to ask for.  Reassurance that even though I’m choosing to be so bare backed and naked with vulnerability, that I’m not the only one. It seems so irrational for me to want to express myself so publicly, and honestly I’m against it–stating your every emotion with the world just because your day sucked–because who’s really going to make anything better if you can’t help yourself? That’s why self-reliance can be such a curse sometimes. I don’t think I really care anymore though. If anything, I want to be completely honest with anyone who comes across my page, and to see me for my complete self, and more importantly, to be honest with myself. I tend to sugar coat everything so that I can cope with it. I can’t face the hideousness of all reality, because dear God, where do I go from there? When I realize that some things really are as bad as they seem, how do you deal with that; but that’s what makes me the person I am today. I’ve always dealt with every single harsh reality just in that way; the harshness of it all. I never, NEVER numbed any of it, not with a single vice. Every single wound, I left open, to bleed until it slowly healed in it’s own time. I learn to cope, whether I really want to or not. So when I say forgive me for these next few paragraphs that I’m about to wright, I’m not really asking for forgiveness, I’m asking for permission if you will, to let me open myself up and show you what I really feel. Nothing is more satisfying than when you pour everything out into something/someone, to release it from being so heavy on your heart.

“You crossed this line. Do you find it hard to sit with me tonight?”

It’s not that I’m asking for everything. Honestly, the bare minimum would do, but I feel nothing. I feel nothing from you anymore, at least, because I still feel everything. I think that’s what hurts the most, ya know? I remember a time when I would so wholeheartedly trust anyone, because I never had reason to believe that I couldn’t/shouldn’t be vulnerable and open with people. Somewhere down the line, I learned precisely why you shouldn’t just toss your heart around. It’s probably not a good idea to walk around wearing it on your sleeve either. The access is too easy, and who knows who’ll walk right up to you, snatch it away, then return it in shambles.

“I’ve excused you for a while, while I’m wide eyed, and I’m so damn caught in the middle.”

Somehow, that’s always where I feel I end up–in the middle of something. I want to tell you that it’s okay to be confused, to still care for someone so deeply that you’ve known for so long, but then where does that leave me? Because, it’s not okay to push me away and become distant when, all this time, I’ve always been here. What am I supposed to do in the mean time while you figure this out? It’s hardly fair when I already care and feel everything for you. I usually suppose it’s always my own fault though, when I get myself into such situations. I feel I should always know better, but I somehow assume that I can’t possibly go through the same thing over and over, but I suppose a person can. I get this notion that being with someone–caring for someone–should come so easily, dear Jesus, I must have been wrong for a long time.

It’s not that I’ve given up all hope, because somewhere in the back of my mind and the depths of my heart, I presume that this will all still work out. That it’s simply just a hiccup of some sort. In that same sense though, I can’t simply overlook everything and pretend that it doesn’t bother me. If you were to ask me where to go from here, I’d have to say that was up to you.