My husband has told me many times I act like everyone is out to get me. I confess this is sometimes true. But I do have evidence. Really, I do. Trust me.
Anyway, I do love a good conspiracy theory. I don’t believe Oswald acted alone [does anyone, really?].
I think too much. Not that I’m a great thinker, but I find my mind wanders and ends up in strange places. My latest is a theory on why something did not happen. To me.
While I definitely do not liken myself to anyone important and I’m sure people don’t think about me near as much as I suppose they do, I’ve convinced myself some sequence of events led to me not achieving what I’d hoped to obtain.
When I read back over the last paragraph, I must consider I could be losing my mind. Alas, bear with me, please.
I’ve pieced together events and occurrences and have come to the conclusion I have been exposed. And the exposure has limited my opportunity.
I realize this all sounds mysterious, or perhaps ridiculous.
While I don’t feel it would be appropriate to go into detail, I will say this. I must learn to let go. Release. Relinquish. Move on.
I think moving on is quite possibly the hardest aspect of life. Especially when you have given a great deal. More so when you were willing to give even more. When you thought it was your purpose or the cause to give your all to.
Yes, that’s dramatic and sappy. But that’s my story, or theory.
I say all of the above to make my point, which I realize is a long time coming:
It is time to move on.
I actually have physically moved on and I need to take it a step further and mentally do the same. And emotionally. And, dare I say, spiritually. Despite all the nice chats about God’s plan and purpose, it’s come to my attention that whether or not it was once the case, it is not today. Today’s plan does not equal yesterday’s. And that’s a difficult reality.
I received a phone call a short while back. I was busy at work and it went to voice mail. It was a person I’d never met, calling from a place I at one time knew well. And I realized I’m not over a disappointment. Actually, I don’t know if I could really classify it as “a” disappointment. Maybe it’s a series of them.
Do we ever [get over] all disappointments? Why can’t things be? The situations and circumstances that to me seem so right, so perfect. What I’d planned on and worked for and mostly hoped for. For years.
My husband shared a bit of news with our family the other night. An update of sorts that left me pleased we’re not where we once were. Yet it’s still somewhat painful. I’m still confused. People do not understand. Oh, they believe they do. Or they’re silently judgmental. Or they really just don’t care.
Talents and giftings and all of that stuff we’re supposedly good at. Goals we’re encouraged to set.
I can relate to this guy’s story. While it does not mirror my family’s, I empathize.