It seems to me that a lot of emotions are because of expectations that I have for other people that they don't meet. Is it possible that my expectations continue to be unrealistic, or is it just possible that I haven't yet met people that care to meet the expectations? Maybe it is a little bit of both. I definitely feel like I go in and out of moments of feeling like I belong to one group or another. My life is a tapestry that weaves in and out of people like wind passing through an orchard. Sometimes people leave marks that hurt me. Most of the time they leave marks that heal me, that fill in the broken places and help me find my way again.
What does love really mean though? Does it mean allowing people to bring you down, or does it mean that you sometimes have to be okay letting go? Does it mean that sometimes the most loving thing to do is walk away and say good-bye.
Walking away is so hard. It isn't in my blood, it isn't a part of who I am, or want to be. The older I get (I know how that sounds), the more I understand that there are just some people that can't be in your life. For whatever reason they don't value me as a person, or I am not in their radar right now. Maybe my life is too much for them, or they think I am too needy. For whatever reason they have chosen to make our lives cease to cross, or only cross in very shallow, artificial ways.
That's not what love is about. Love isn't making time for someone when it is convenient. Love is sacrifice, and time for just that person. Love is making sure that those around you feel your love no matter what. That you don't just replace someone in your life with someone else because they are easier, or because they allow you to just be the worst version of yourself. Love is crossing oceans, listening to hear not argue, and understanding that there are going to be quiet growth moments. Love is communicating, and not always giving the harsh answer. Love is loyalty, and celebration. Love is never forgetting to apologize. Love is humble. Love adores.
Maybe my expectations of love are unrealistic. I don't really think they are. I also don't think that there is anything wrong with a broken friendship. For in the broken pieces I feel like I am able to see and touch Jesus even more. In the brokenness I am able to grasp that no one has it altogether. A harsh word here, a stab in the back there. Each moment allows me to understand the grace that I have been given. The grace that I have been given allows me to give it to those that have bruised me. It also allows me the strength to let them leave. For holding on would be worse for both of us, than just letting go.
I hold on to grace, I breathe deeply, and I let the wind move through the orchard, weaving a beautiful tapestry in my memories, and emotions. I am not the worst person in the world, and I don't have to let that tapestry be filled with dark places of doubt and insecurity. For there are more colors waiting to be woven through. Colors that want to fill my life, to be a part of my everyday, and to build me up.
I'm thankful for the wounds, because they just make the colors that much more bright! Thankful for my colorful tapestry that finds beauty in the ebbs and flows of life.
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