Thursday, December 25, 2003
End of the Christmas day. And though it was great to be with family and friends, there is still the abject loneliness that comes from being "widowed." Especially with in-laws whom I love, but always associate with my wife, my sister-in-law's sister. This has been the year where that emotion has figured into much of my life, including a relationship that was with a great woman, but at the wrong time for the wrong reasons.
I am constantly searching myself for the maturity that comes in grief, the wholeness that arrives to greet new relationships. I am careful now, not to look at the pain of loneliness to satisfy that deep part of my heart, but to walk circumspect of the Lord and what He wants to accomplish in my life. He will provide all of my needs, and be the friend that I need, I know. So, why is the emptyness I feel so pervasive, so overwhelming at times? Perhaps it is the way I lived my love life, as the panel below has humourously suggested. I am a terminal, hopeless romantic.
A romantic is one who does not stop at seeing the magic in a relationship, and always providing the catalyst to keep that magic flowering. The hopeless romantic always sees the glass half full, always cries at the injustice in someone else's love life, and thus is devastated at the loss of their object of affection. At the Christmas season, the hopeless romantic is at his or her peak, providing the right environment, the right food, the right time and the right picture in their mind of all of this. Without the person d' object, the environment and the trappings are useless. And when the sense of the romantic is snuffed out, the hopelessness sets in. Then, every movie and every book the hopeless romantic views or reads sets off that hole in their heart, and the tears come more easily. It is easy to see why the word "hopeless" and "romantic" are in the same conjunctive phrase.
Why do I keep doing what I am doing, that is, nothing? Because I want the rest of my life to be that one last relationship, and I don't want it to be troubled by any grief baggage that surfaces. Of course, I realize that I will always remember, always love my Joann, but I know that the Lord can give me one more blessing in my life.
It is hard, with friends who are women, not to romanticize, nor even to flirt, but I do love the company of women; so to not socialize is to turn inward, and that is not something I have ever been comfortable with. And it is certain that my Christian walk depends on being in His will for every relationship, and that means doing what is demanded of me. Not to do anything to disrespect my friend or partner. Anything.
In the coming year, I hope to have more friendships and more contacts. I do also pray that I am granted a reprieve in my griefdom, and see with clear eyes what I am to do. What freedom my relationship with Christ will bring to a relationship with a woman. And to enjoy the glory of the Lord with harmony in my life.
I also am praying that my son gets the attention he needs from me and from others, particularly professional help, in going through the grief that surfaces in his life. It is very hard for me to put myself in the shoes of this twelve-year old and know what goes on inside him, with regard to his feelings and how that affects his performance in school. This is the year it seems that all of this will come together.
I didn't mean for this post to come on Christmas day, but there has been so much reflection in my life, that I need to let it go. Thank you, gentle reader, for your consideration of these thoughts.
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I am constantly searching myself for the maturity that comes in grief, the wholeness that arrives to greet new relationships. I am careful now, not to look at the pain of loneliness to satisfy that deep part of my heart, but to walk circumspect of the Lord and what He wants to accomplish in my life. He will provide all of my needs, and be the friend that I need, I know. So, why is the emptyness I feel so pervasive, so overwhelming at times? Perhaps it is the way I lived my love life, as the panel below has humourously suggested. I am a terminal, hopeless romantic.
A romantic is one who does not stop at seeing the magic in a relationship, and always providing the catalyst to keep that magic flowering. The hopeless romantic always sees the glass half full, always cries at the injustice in someone else's love life, and thus is devastated at the loss of their object of affection. At the Christmas season, the hopeless romantic is at his or her peak, providing the right environment, the right food, the right time and the right picture in their mind of all of this. Without the person d' object, the environment and the trappings are useless. And when the sense of the romantic is snuffed out, the hopelessness sets in. Then, every movie and every book the hopeless romantic views or reads sets off that hole in their heart, and the tears come more easily. It is easy to see why the word "hopeless" and "romantic" are in the same conjunctive phrase.
Why do I keep doing what I am doing, that is, nothing? Because I want the rest of my life to be that one last relationship, and I don't want it to be troubled by any grief baggage that surfaces. Of course, I realize that I will always remember, always love my Joann, but I know that the Lord can give me one more blessing in my life.
It is hard, with friends who are women, not to romanticize, nor even to flirt, but I do love the company of women; so to not socialize is to turn inward, and that is not something I have ever been comfortable with. And it is certain that my Christian walk depends on being in His will for every relationship, and that means doing what is demanded of me. Not to do anything to disrespect my friend or partner. Anything.
In the coming year, I hope to have more friendships and more contacts. I do also pray that I am granted a reprieve in my griefdom, and see with clear eyes what I am to do. What freedom my relationship with Christ will bring to a relationship with a woman. And to enjoy the glory of the Lord with harmony in my life.
I also am praying that my son gets the attention he needs from me and from others, particularly professional help, in going through the grief that surfaces in his life. It is very hard for me to put myself in the shoes of this twelve-year old and know what goes on inside him, with regard to his feelings and how that affects his performance in school. This is the year it seems that all of this will come together.
I didn't mean for this post to come on Christmas day, but there has been so much reflection in my life, that I need to let it go. Thank you, gentle reader, for your consideration of these thoughts.
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