As children bring their broken toys,
With tears for us to mend;
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because he was my friend.
But then instead of leaving him in peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help, with ways that were my own.
At last I snatched them back and cried
"How could you be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "What could I do?
You never did let go..."
~ Author Unknown ~
As I was driving up the big hill returning from the gym one morning, fragments of this poem ran through my mind. I was thinking about "my dream" again and the scary economic times. It's really hard to believe that things will fly when only heaviness looms all around. Yet I am trying to do just that.
My world is currently at such opposing odds with itself, it is hard to imagine that it's just one person's life. My husband's plant has closed down and he is currently unemployed. His unemployment benefits have been hopelessly screwed up and his retirement benefits as well have run into a big glitch. We are surviving on fumes.
Yet things in my horse business seem to be finally falling into place. Money is still a huge issue but it does look like there is really light at the end of that tunnel. I won't bore you with the details but this is the most hopeful things have ever, ever looked. The only problem is when.............when will we really reach that light.
I find myself in the position that I am making some huge decisions without the cash flow behind me to back them. If I don't make that leap of faith and go with it, I'm pretty sure this dream is over. If I do trust in myself and it doesn't work out, my dream will be just as dead. It is a difficult struggle. That's where this poem comes in.
However, as a survivor of Satanic Ritual Abuse, I can whole heartily say that trusting in God is not an easy thing for most parts of me. I do have those parts who have all the faith in the world rolled up into a tiny little bundle they believe but that doesn't work well for the rest of us inside here.
The only thing that keeps us hanging on is being able to "see" that memory those other parts hold. We cannot "feel" it in anyway, not a single part of it. but we can see the blinding light flooding out the horror.
Oh, do we relate to that horror however. There is no doubt about that. We understand that horror inside and out. We can feel those feelings, no problem............well, except for the problem those feelings cause. Why is it we can so easily feel the bad but we cannot experience the good. That is the part that affects this faith of ours. What if it isn't real...........?
So we find ourselves clearly at a crossroads. We must either take that leap of faith or forever give up. There will be no room for compromise on this one. That fork in the road that calls us doesn't allow for side trips or short cuts...............believing is the only baggage allowed. I hope I have the strength to see it through........God knows I want it badly enough.