I write a lot about my ventures and mishaps with love, I am indeed a frustrated being when it comes to my interactions with this verb. Love has a tendency to do me dirty. He likes to push me into the mud and then laugh while he watches me try to scrub out his residue before anyone knows that I tried to entertain the little guy. For some reason, even though I know that there is a 60% chance that he will do it again 100% of the time, I can't help but want to squeeze Love's face and ask him to push me again, just so I can feel his touch.
Yet, here I am, content with myself and the woman I've become and in love. Yes, that little verb found a way to hold my hand and not run too fast or jerk on my arm too hard. I'm walking hand in hand with love and we've even managed to only step on each others toes a couple times.
I find encouragement in recognizing true love in other couples. I can always tell when a man truly loves the woman he is with (and vice versa). Being able to breathe in the same air as that couple always gives me goosebumps. There's just something about the unfaltering love that manifests between two people that it becomes so think and consistent that there is a fine line between it simply being in the air and getting stuck in my hair like a leaf surrendering it self to the ground on a fall afternoon. Recently I've had the honor of being the photographer for two weddings. After posting the photos for the first wedding I was told that "weddings are your calling" in photography. I was extremely honored by this compliment for two reasons: 1) it was given by someone I respect in the "photography field" and 2) it showed that someone else was able to see the love I so desperately made sure to capture, I had done my job. I used to loathe weddings because they reminded me of this idea of love that I had become jaded to. That out there all these other people were finding their "one" and I was questioning my own existence as ONE.
I didn't know that I was supposed to exist as one (first) because I was so busy trying to stitch two wrongs into a right. There's a saying that we don't know what we have until it's gone and I think by gaining perspective I've been able to see a different angle to that cliche. Sometimes what we HAVE isn't exactly what we NEED. God has a way of providing us with what we feel our hearts need in order to show us that He will, indeed grant us our heart's desires, but He won't allow us to remain plotted in soil where we won't grow. It took me a long time to see that where I had planted myself (where God had allowed me to plant myself) was NOT where I needed to be. I was trying everything, including fertilizing the soil with what others were claiming was organic and natural fertilizer, but turned out to be....crap.
So here I am now, still in the process. I'm not naive enough to believe that I'm perfect or that my healing is complete. I AM healed (don't get me wrong), but TRUE healing is a process and I'm okay with allowing God to take His time with me. All I keep hearing is Him telling me to have patience. I find it ironic because He knows I am NOT a patient person, but that's what He's been teaching me. My process is slow and intensive and methodical and precise because He can't afford to let me move. Just like a surgeon making the perfect stitches after an invasive surgery, He must take His time to make sure that NO movement will re-open what He has closed so purposefully. Does it make me angry? Yes. I'm human and I get mad because I want my reward now, I want to know that all this RIGHT I continue to try and do, all this passive anger I allow myself to endure is for a greater purpose.
Recently I posted of how in the midst of my waiting God has allowed me to "lick the spoon" while waiting on my perfect blessing. THIS is how awesome my God is. He knows me, He knows I need love, He knows how I need to be loved. After years, DECADES of planting myself in horrible soil, He saw it fit to lift me out (despite my kicking and screaming and plant me in custom made soil by myself.
The key theme here is that I was by myself. I had to learn how to function as a woman on my own and how to identify as the woman God wanted me to be. I found the answer to "Who am I?"
I am Dianna.
Warrior and Queen.
His.
A survivor and inspiration
I am not simple
I am not complex
I am perfect in His eyes
and that's enough for me
I am a woman
stronger than any man's abuse in my past
taller than any negative words spoken down on me
I am His
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