“It would take an act of God.”
How many times have I heard, said, or thought this in reference to situations big and small? Dreams that I never thought would become realities. Constants that ended up being not so constant.
These acts of God I am all too familiar with. When in a bout of self-pity and childish thoughts, I would tell you that God is generous with his gifts, and swift to rip them from my hands the moment I’m convinced I get to keep them. When I’m in my right mind, I say that life is hard, and that it’s humbling flattery that God finds me so strong.
The frustration sets in when eyes with a backsplash of pity look at me, as if to say, “This is what you’ve done with what you’ve been given?”
I do not rant about what I’ve done with the things that have been taken. In fact, I rarely tell people of distressing news, unless prayers are needed, because I despise pity. It leaves a coppery taste in my mouth, and a tint of red in my eye. Do not obligate me to comfort you over my pain. It may seem cold, it may be aloof, but I assure you that I am no stranger to death and heart ache. God’s acts have moved my life many a time. Through Him I am strong, and I move right along.
It would take an act of my own stupidity to reconsider the near & distant past. And an act from God, the only constant in my life, to let go and journey on into that vast unknown that most call a promising future. So whether or not you worry, I wanted to say I’m fine. The future that He has planned for me is far too exciting to dwell on the past that I cannot change, nor do I want to.