Color

In my life-long quest to do it all, I have wanted to transition seamlessly.  There is something so enticing about just slipping in and out of people's lives.  Different apartments?  Different countries?  Different stages of life?  I have a small, unrealized belief that smooth transitions will prevent any jostling of my soul, and I suppose this fits into my constant goal to become more than human.  Or is it less than human?  Whichever role requires less pain, I think, is my preference. 

I used to look forward to the day when I would know everything, just like God.  No, really, I have it written in the margin of scriptures that I couldn't wait for that day.  I thought that when you were God, you wouldn't hurt.  Perfect knowledge must mean no pain.  I am not sure when my life became organized around creating that persona of no pain.  I've always considered myself someone who doesn't shy away from something that hurts, but I suppose self-inflicted challenges (i.e. half marathons, long study sessions, etc.) still give me a semblance of control. 

Maybe it isn't avoiding pain, but avoiding loss of control. I read a book about this once.  The Mysterious Benedict Society is a great children's thriller, and the main villain's fatal flaw was his habit to control everything.  Reading it as a fifth grader, I didn't notice the parallels and the life lessons slipped right over my head. 

I have moved back to the apartment I left almost six months ago, anticipating an easy transition.  After all, isn't this the place I dreamed about when I was driving around in a dusty car, on red roads, with mosquito repellent everywhere?  Unfortunately, my humanness has caught up.  The transition isn't easy.  I'm not more or less human because I am still experiencing pain.  The whole world is spinning, right out of my control.  The only thing that seems to be the same these days are the habits I'm trying to break but keep failing. 

I think about God a little differently right now.  It was a true lightbulb moment for me when I realized that part of the bargain of being human, having a soul, loving people, loving life, is to feel pain.  I wonder if there are some days that Heavenly Father, the all-knowing Being that He is, wishes He didn't feel pain too.  Maybe not, because He probably has a better understanding of this whole life thing?  We hurt Him every day though, and He keeps loving us. 

And even in my very grasping life motto of avoiding pain or loss of control (whatever it really is, therapy would probably help at this point), there is something truly beautiful to me that there is a Heavenly Father who keeps loving me.  My life goal of minimizing and shrinking and white-knuckling seems rather colorless in comparison to His mercy. 

xo. Elise