In All Things

I was so sure of you.
Sure of your intentions, sure of your words and actions.
I find myself vacillating between wanting to believe you and not being wiling to believe you anymore.
I can't control anything but me and some days I feel like I can't even control that.

But I'm trying. Trying to not want it, trying to recognize that the price of wanting these things comes at far higher a price than I am willing to pay anymore.
I have longer and longer moments of realizing that I just can't want it anymore. It's expensive, this wanting and longing. It's just not worth the cost to me anymore.

It would be nice to have had a different experience. To have better memories to share. How I have longed to have been able to smile at the remembrance of stories and long slow days spent with you. But it's done. It's tainted and no amount of longing will change that.

I read somewhere a person asking what God is doing in people's lives now. That we're all so very good at talking and sharing about what God has done for them in the past. How God has delivered them from *insert deep pit of sin here*. But this person said, "I'd love to know what God is doing for you right now."

It's been cycling around my head for weeks now and I'm realizing that I'm better at telling you the prettied up end result version of God's deliverance but I have a hard time sharing the ugly, bruised and shattered versions of how He's delivering me even today, at this very moment.

I am confident in His work in my in the past and I anticipate with confidence how He will work in me in the future but often I get so bogged down in the wanting, in the longing that I can't see how He is delivering me this very moment from longing for memories that aren't true.
He's delivering me from the jealousy of a history that never existed for me, for us, for you.

He's showing me everyday that the ways He has worked in me in the past have led me directly to the way He is working in me, refining me and delivering me this very day.

The biggest way He is working in me now is to show me how wasteful it is to gaze longingly into the past and compare it to this ideal of an idea that I have of how I wished it was. How if only it could have been like *this* than I would *here* instead of where I am now.
It robs me of the beauty of the refining, the beauty of the brokenness that gives me eyes and a heart for the others unseen and broken wandering around beside me.

So I'm trying to not want it anymore. I'm trying to grieve the way I wished it could have been and embrace the way it was and all that God has done for the good of those who love him through the way it used to be.
But I don't want it -
No -
I can't want it

Too long I've been afraid of
Losing love I guess I've lost
Well, if that's
It comes at much too high a cost!

-'Defying Gravity' Wicked

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