Painful Lesson (Leah)

Okay, so as I mentioned in my last post, I told Old-Phil no for good. It broke my heart. Really really really - it hurt bad. What hurt was how offended he was when I told him it wasn't a good time for me emotionally to date him again. I was more comfortable with the status of friends that we've been the last 6 months - you know, after he told me that he wasn't ready to date me exclusively, and that maybe we should take a break, and that he was dating someone else. Yes - that hurt a lot too - but I accepted it as his right to choose for himself. I came to terms with the hurt and realized that he wasn't hurting me personally - he was just choosing something else that brought him happiness. Since I loved him I wanted him to be happy so I got myself to an emotional state where I was happy for him living his life separate from me. I came to the understanding that I can love someone but not necessarily marry them - I have lots of friends that I love. I respected his decision and supported him the best I could. So... when I told him I wasn't emotionally ready to go back to dating him I thought he could respect that. I thought he could understand a person's right to choose and a person's right to be in a different place emotionally. I was wrong. So now what really hurts me isn't that he and I will never be together for forever, or that we'll never even be friends now, what hurts is that he's going away from our relationship in pain himself. But then I have to tell myself to stop being so self centered. He is again choosing to feel something - an emotion of his own choosing - who am I to tell him how he should feel? If he wants to hurt and be in pain I should honor his choice and give him his space and not take on any responsibility. I told him as kindly and gently as possible that I wasn't ready. What he does with that information is his right. He has his agency. Only Satan believes in taking away agency. Only Satan wants us to feel guilt and misery. Boy, this dating thing is hard every which way you turn. Oh, and by the way, did I mention - I don't want to ever again be involved with a man who pouts and blames and complains and doesn't know how to do any self reflection?

a new perspective..it's all about love (marcia)

Sometimes I forget that life really is about love. It’s about loving others and about being loved. Anything and everything else is a bonus. Actually, love itself is a bonus.

I just returned from my fifth trip to the Sunflower Orphanage in Peru. As usual, it was an amazing trip with new experiences, but this trip was especially sweet to me. If you’ll indulge me a bit, I’m going to digress from my usual dating posting, but I hope you’ll find it applies.

The Sunflower is home to 37 beautiful children. The 37th child (I’ll call her Liz), a 9 year old darling girl, arrived while I was there. Her mother and a social worker dropped Liz off with a simple explanation that she couldn’t afford her. This child was beautiful. She was also in shock. She was in a strange place, with strange people and her mother had just abandoned her.

I talked to her for a bit. What’s your name, how old are you, what’s your favorite food? And then we took her into our donations room where we gave her a fleece comfort quilt in her favorite color, yellow. We let her pick out a new pink backpack. We gave her a school kit, a hygiene kit with a cool Disney toothbrush, new clothes and pajamas and a cute stuffed animal. We gave her lots of hugs and we talked to her as if she were the most important child in the world.

Here’s the amazing stuff. Within 1 minute of meeting little Liz, I loved her. I struggled to hold back the tears as I watched her wide, scared eyes take everything in. I did everything I could to let her know she was safe. I wanted to give her the best fleece blanket, the best stuffed animal, the best backpack, even the best ball point pen. I hugged her a dozen times. I loved her, but most importantly I wanted her to feel loved.

Liz arrived while the rest of the children were at school but it wasn’t long before they got home. We introduced her to the other children and asked a few of the older girls to help and befriend her. I was a proud mama as I watched our kids take her by the hand and take her on a tour. It wasn’t long before they were running around playing. By the end of the day, you couldn’t pick out the new girl from the crowd. She fit in and she was one of us.

In contrast to that sad but beautiful experience with Liz, we had a disturbing experience being stuck in a two-day general strike that pretty much paralyzed the city we were in. The people were frustrated with the government and placed barricades all along the main (and only) road through the Sacred Valley for a couple of days. There was no transportation other than walking. People were angry and were complaining about the economic conditions. Many were drunk. I felt for the people. Life dealt them a difficult card.

Now that I’m back in the real world, I’ve thought several times about the experience of welcoming Liz into our home. And I’ve also thought about the strike. It is a stark contrast to go from one memory to the other. I still feel the pain of the people and their difficult lives. I understand their valid complaints and their justified frustrations. And then I fondly remember the sweet experience that began when a frightened 9 year old walked through our front gate and into my heart.

That’s my challenge. While I’m completely aware that my world and my degree of frustrations in no way compare with third-world poverty, I have from time to time felt the desire to go on strike. I know I’ve complained. I’ve probably thrown in a few barricades along the way.

But now I’m trying to remember that life’s about love. I’m trying to develop the kind of love that I had for Liz – the kind where I want others to have the best comfort quilt. I’m trying to remember that’s what life is about – it’s about loving and being loved.

By the way, if you’re interested, you can take a look at the Sunflower and our kids at www.southerncrosshumanitarian.org.