Lovin' and Leavin'

Isn't it weird when you can look back to some nondescript time in your past and think, "Wow...if someone had told me then that I'd end up here....I would have never believed them." It's even weirder when that moment in your past is just barely a week ago.

Perhaps because I'm no longer the open, vulnerable person that I used to be...or maybe because I've learned the importance of discretion over the years, I won't go into the personal details of this last week and why they've turned my world upside down. I will say, though, that they've got me thinking a lot about love--What is it? Why do we do it? And what does it accomplish?

Scientists say that it all boils down to a bunch of chemical reactions firing in your brain--an essential function of the body that encourages the propagation of the species. Romantics tell us that you can't pick who you fall for while Realists call love a choice. Movies reflect the I-would-die-for-you, lasts-for-always kind of yearning, and Hollywood reminds us that it's easy to bail if you fall out of it and assures that there's no shame in doing so. The Bible weaves the epic story of a perfect love from the Creator to His creation...but even that doesn't seem helpful when I'm trying to pinpoint the concept amongst imperfect humans. Contradiction, much?

Compound it all as I'm trying to decide where to plant my feet next year. I'm committed to this job only through the summer; then I can pick up and go if I want. I thought that choosing a college would be the hardest choice I ever make...because once I picked that course, it would guide me through all the rest. I would go to school, meet someone and fall in love...then the decisions just click into place like so many beads on a summer camp friendship bracelet--one right after the next. You marry the one you love. You move wherever his job takes you. Buy a house. Get settled. Have kids. Alternate between your parents' at major holidays. Send the kids to school. Grow old. Watch everyone else do the same. Step by neat little step.

Turns out, some of us don't go down that yellow brick road, and this next part of the journey has more than lions, tigers, and bears looming in the darkness. My dad told me once that I should just pick something, and as long as I keep following Christ, He'll bless my life wherever I go. Which means that somewhere along the line I have to figure out what it is I want and where I want to be. I liked Plan A because it keeps someone else calling the shots. Fish can follow the river but there's more paths to take on land. (Why do I suddenly hear the pseudo-Caribbean accent of a crab persuading me through song of the benefits of ocean life...?) Melodramatic analogies aside, I thought I had a better grasp on life when I had it partitioned away into steps and formulas. It certainly helped me to deal with all the messy emotions associated with being a girl. But if we scrap the rule-book...does that mean I'm supposed to listen to my heart again? It's been crying wolf for so many years that I don't know which way is up. I've gone from so hot to so cold with so many different guys, and wouldn't have pursued any of the jobs I've had if they hadn't fallen in my lap. I'm constantly cutting and dying my hair, piercing things and buying weird new clothes. Someone so fickle shouldn't lean on herself for support. And after pouring myself out to a few too many people, I learned to turn off the sounds so I wouldn't be such a drama queen. Do I really have to sift back through them again?

Isn't it weird when you look back on the choices you made and realize that so many of them really didn't matter one way or the other?