The knock at the door

I am an independent person, I pride myself in this independence, it is in fact the pride of any form of adulthood I have managed to come to. A badge I wear with honor, hold the cookies, I want to prove that I can do all the things. Only as a grown ass woman who professes to not only believe in God but to live my life for Him - what does being an independent woman look like? If I love Him and want to depend on Him does that mean I have to live not just for those around me but with them as well? Palm to face, this changes things.

I have come to this new place in life. Where wonder of all wonders I am not one person living one life but in fact on a journey of forsaking myself for the sake of two becoming one. There is the good in it. In knowing that the guilt of eating that mountain of fries is lessened by the fact that the person beside me had half. In knowing that the pressure in my palm isn't a cell phone geared up and ready to make me look important with many distractions like Facebook and Instagram and Tweets aplenty but is in fact a hand inside my hand, a person at my side. In knowing that I laugh with someone instead of just at myself. In knowing that my weirdness finds a home with his weirdness. In knowing that with someone looks less scary with him.

This thrill in coexistence and dare I say it dependance has been tested in me. Que the day of the migraine. When it feels like a monkey has taken up residence in my head and taken a dump on my brain. Pain. My instinct is to hide. To turn out the lights, retreat into the cone of silence and put a 10 foot force shield around myself. I can power through the pain, because I have to. I can drive my own ass to the store and get migraine medicine, because I have to. I can wait this out, because I have to. I can be an island, because I have to. I have done this, I will do this, I can do this. Only in this uncharted territory of no longer being just me, can I? We have all heard of the time when the honeymoon phase fades away. Is this it? When I admit to being less than fully myself, to being less than I think he deserves? If I can't laugh at his cheesy jokes or look at him with nothing but a smile in my eyes and adoration on my lips, does the happy bubble pop? Is it done with then? I found myself in a place I hadn't been before - feeling like the pain was too much and I was actually incapable of taking care of myself. Que anger, que fear, que absolute debilitation. que "What do you want from me in this God?!" And here he was standing at my doorstep and taking my head into his hands. And not believing the its not that bad. And going to the store for migraine medicine. Here he was sitting in the dark, in the silence, in the corners of my soul I thought not to expose to anybody else. Here he was praying to God with my name on his lips. Here he was. Here he was taking pleasure out of taking care of me?! There he was.

And here is the realization I have come to. It's not about this one man that I am choosing to walk through life with. He was a tool that was used to finally make me realize the GREATEST of revelations. We are not meant to live alone. We are not meant to be pridefully independent. You can do it on your own yes, but should you? We are meant to live in COMMUNITY. With and for others. To LOVE and TO BE LOVED. Who is it that is knocking on your door? Who is it that is trying to participate in life with you but can't get beyond that badge of honor you wear that says I DONT NEED YOU. Is it a loved one? Your family? A friend? An acquaintance? Maybe even a Stranger? What are the Have Tos in your life that stop you from being cared for or from taking care of others? I want to be open to knock at the door. To the cry of my heart. To the cry of your heart. To the friend and to the stranger. I was created to live with you and to live for you. How about it? Will you walk with me? KNOCK KNOCK.