I might spend my whole life runnin'; around; Still let the wind kinda blow me around. Part II. The long way home.

Part II: The Long Way Home







I might spend my whole life runnin' around; Still let the wind kinda blow me around.

The thing about 25...

My 25th Quarter-Century Celebration

I thought my year of 25 was terrible. My boyfriend and I broke up-- twice I think-- and after I chased a very unhealthy relationship for a very long time, things had to change. Work was becoming deeply disturbing and saddening, and worst of all, unfulfilling. Some of the important people in my life, or people who I counted among those, faded away. I spent Christmas away from home. And I spent way too much time crying. Even though it started off with a glorious quarter-century birthday party that I threw for myself--I hated 25 for almost everything that happened that year. There was so much sadness and difficulty in most of those 12 months and I wanted to blame it all on the world and being 25. But now I see that all of that pain and hardship had to happen for me to be so disrupted, so shoved out of anything comfortable that I would have to be forced to either continue on completely miserable, or embrace a change.

Don Miller says characters have to be forced to change because they won’t do it willingly. Don Miller is very wise in my opinion. We characters have to sometimes be dragged kicking and screaming for a while or for
several miles before we see the merit in moving forward on our own. I wouldn't say that I am opposed to change; rather I am opposed to chaotic spontaneous unplanned change. And sometimes that how change has to happen so I’m not always quick to embrace or adapt to it. And sometimes I don't even know where to start and what to change so I give up and leave things as they are because they are comfortable and familiar, even if they are miserable.

But I believe that when we are listening and putting our faith in God to lead us, that the way will be just a little easier. And in the same manner, if we insist on our own way, forging ahead regardless, I believe the way will continue to trap us in the bramble as we fight and end up becoming more and more entangled. Everywhere I turned at 25 I was tangled up in all kinds of messes. But I insisted that I was going to cut and hack my way through on my own path. And I led myself into a lot of pain.

It’s easy to get caught up in doing things your own way, and it’s natural to insist on looking ahead and trying to map it out. But life doesn't work that way. Looking back I can see why the places I stumbled were necessary, even though they were and still are hard. That’s the faith part though—trusting enough to take another step even though you might not see the whole staircase. Trusting because you feel in your heart that it’s right, even if you can’t see or touch that reality at that exact moment.

And it’s not just when you have a crappy 25—it’s anytime whether you are 85 or just 5. Or even if you are 3 like my sister Eden, because her life is really tough sometimes with people telling her she is too small for everything and giving her too much cereal or not enough juice. Life is hard at all ages at times. Eden trusts that someone will get her some more juice, and someday she’ll grow bigger. She has the trusting heart of a child. Which is what we all must aspire to have.

Towards the end of my 25, I wasn't happy and I had to do something to change that. And it meant taking a big risk.

And that risk was very scary and very unsettling.  Some might say that risk was irresponsible. It was certainly uncharacteristic. But I’m certain of two things: That risk was necessary; and that risk was exactly the type of risk I needed to take to get my feet pointed in the right direction. In fact, I have never before been so passionate about something, so compelled from within my heart that something had to happen, as I was about this trip.

As I write this, several weeks after my return because of the chaos that swirled up once I got back, I know 100% I did the right things. Reading my journal entries and descriptions of my days that are scribbled out on scrap paper, I get to briefly relive the past few weeks of joy.

I created my own happiness by becoming an active character in my story, trusting my God to lead me, and setting one foot in front of the other. I got on the right path, I finished 25 out strong, and I left without even taking a map. We don't get a map for life anyway, so leaving for a small portion of life without one should not be a huge deal. Plus I had Siri.

Part II is the journey home, the summary of the drafts and notes and pieces of paper and candy wrappers that I scribbled thoughts and experiences on as I made my way North, back to the NoDak. Part II is part resolution, and part beginning because my story has just begun...