Since some people have told me that they have found my blogs inspiring, I have oftentimes hesitated to write when my thoughts are less than holy. But then again, I have realized that by doing so, I am letting external pressures affect my freedom once more. This is my blogspot, anyway, and I can't let other people dictate upon such personal space, if there is such a thing in cyberspace.
The fact is, I prefer my life to be a Disney movie. A sister once told me that all my stories and sharings have happy endings, unlike real life. I wrote a short story about unrequited love for her just to thank her for reminding me of my escapist tendencies. Ever since I could remember, I have always been a daydreamer. It just spilled over to my writing. In my head life is always perfect. People say the right things at the right time. They live in harmonious relationships surrounded by supportive work/family environments. I get all the assurances that I need about my future. Due to fear, however, I cannot imagine real life turning out to be as perfect.
I am wary of being too happy, as I feel that anytime soon the balloon would pop. When nothing goes wrong, I come up with excuses not to stay happy. I bring out the worst case scenarios and fixate on them. So last Thursday I said I was happy. I had two answered prayers on that day, enough to bring me boundless joy. Trust this old cynical soul to forget God's goodness and choose to worry about the future. Unfortunately, therefore, I have not stayed that happy.
What are feelings, anyway? I shouldn't base my posts on how high or how low my heart has moved in a given day. I'm supposed to learn how to control my emotions once more, now that I'm going to be serving brothers and sisters outside my comfort zone.
I have flexibility issues too. There are several colors other than black and white, but I reduce everything to chewable portions. Even with my own desires for flamboyant hues, I tend to be strict and stringent. I know that I'm afraid of thinking out of the box because I might lose my way once again. I am learning to stay in a box and to dance within the confines of my own prison. There may be a flowering garden outside the box but heaven knows I am waiting for a hero to break down the walls I have created for protection.
As I do my work all night tonight, I will attempt to take a broader perspective of my predicament. I am setting myself up for bigtime disappointment but I don't know any better. All of a sudden, my faith seems too new for this. It is an area that probably needs addressing already. I am not sure if I am ready for it, though.
I would rather write about fictional characters who get everything that they want and end up in heaven, too. Sometimes life is too complicated to fit into one page.