Today I realized how ridiculous I have been about something going on in my life. I got myself a little crushy-poo on someone. He is a great guy but there is nothing about it that makes any amount of sense. He is too young, so not going to happen. My wonderful friends who encourage me to dream the impossible dream say things like: "Why wouldn't he love you, Rebecca? You're a great girl and he is not your average young person" While all of this is true, I think I've needed someone to say something more like this: "Really, Rebecca?" All of you who know me, know the tone in which that should be said.
I'm a little embarrassed at my ridiculous imagination sometimes. This whole thing makes me feel totally foolish. I try really hard to keep myself grounded in reality but he is REALLY neat. I mean, if all of you knew him, you would totally know why I wish it were a possibility. He's fabulous. He is one of the nicest and most genuine people I have ever met. He loves Jesus. However, when I stop and think about it, it's so absurd. We are in totally different places in life. I guess ultimately, I want to find my husband and when I meet a young man who is phenomenal, I can't help but think...where is my phenomenal man? The one who fits. I want that companion. I want that person who totally makes me feel comfortable in my skin. I want to know that person who knows every nook and cranny of my screwed up head and says that he loves me still, loves me more, even. I guess sometimes it's easier to dream and live in a fantasy world than to face your current reality. I feel like my current reality is loneliness and no matter how many people are around me, I very rarely feel connected to someone. So, I guess, I'm just always hoping for companionship and for people to know me and love me. Isn't that what we all want?
I am continually prayerful that God is blessing me with the exact thing I need right now. I have to trust him. It's hard for me to do so but the more I get to know God I know that He is not interested in making me uncomfortable or doesn't want to keep from me the very things I desire. Sometimes though, we don't always get what we want and most often that is a good thing.
6 comments:
poohie poohie poohie
you told me your story and it's not nearly enough to make me say "really, rebecca?" in the tone of which you speak. not enough by half.
i've said it before and i'll say it again.
i believe in getting my hopes up. if you get what you want, bully for you, but if you don't? at least you had hope.
i've said this before as well, and will say this again too...
rebecca and her boyfriend sitting in a tree. K. I. S. S. I. N. G.
and i'll add this...
first comes a silly crush, then comes his back.
then comes me saying I FREAKING TOLD YOU IT WAS POSSIBLE.
Well, I'm glad you believe. I would totally let you say I told you so if anything ever happened. Until then...I'm not holding my breath (but I still will probably get a little butterfly and silly grin when I see him).
You are beautiful, friend. God knows that, and he's preparing the man who knows that and will love you deeply and completely. The hard part is the waiting and the trusting God to know what's best. I will keep on PRAYING for God to grant you the desires of your heart. I believe he will, because you desire to seek Him first. I love you, Jeanne!
I love you Becca.
what did i mean? then comes his back?
i think i meant...
"then he comes and proposes?"
i must have been stoned when i wrote that... no no, that's not it, i've not ever done drugs.
sleep deprived, most likely.
Jean: Thanks for praying for me. I know that he's either out there or God will help me to find contentedness (is that a word?)in being single.
RM: You are so good at wanting the best for me and wanting me to be happy. Thanks for always seeing more in me than I usually give myself credit for. I appreciate that you don't allow room for my self doubt or negative thinking. You are truly one of the most positive thinking people I've ever known.
Tim: I know you do. Thank you. I love you too. I'm so thankful that you are my brother.
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