“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”
~~ C.S. Lewis
Friday
I'll Just Get a Cat ...
How does loneliness feel? That ache? That empty pounding in your brain? And then, to your surprise, you realize you're getting used to it. Eating lunch alone doesn't bother me at all anymore. Driving alone. Celebrating alone. Whatever. So, I ask myself: have I become boring? I mean, there is a lot I will -- & won't, for that matter -- do to protect myself, my heart. And I go home instead of out. Ugh.
All I need now are some cats.
But it's something I'm working on. Forcing myself to get out no matter how soft my slippers are or how many movies are loaded up on my DVR.
Here's the downside of that, though: Going out means meeting new people. Some of those people are guys. Single guys. Single, close-to-my-age guys. Guys I'm in danger of falling for because I'm a girl &, well, that's what I do. Whether I want to or not. And hopes rise only to be dashed again & I get another cat & lock my door.
Sure there's the hope that this time will be different. But age is my enemy. How many times do you have to be disappointed before hope fades to hesitation and hesitation turns to bitterness & despair? After all, I tell myself, isn't it better to expect the worst than to constantly be let down?
Animal shelter, here I come!
Guess I'm just not sure where God fits into my gradually decaying hope. Maybe He wants me to hope for something else. Certainly I still put my hope in Him, but what does that mean? That my hope is in His love for me? That I trust Him to continue to care for me & provide for me?
Well, there it is. The problem is it isn't about me. It's about Him. And if He can use me better as a single, then my hope must be in that -- not in any human relationship, but in what He wants to do in my life for HIS glory.
End of pity party.
And yes, I do believe God likes cats. . . .
All I need now are some cats.
But it's something I'm working on. Forcing myself to get out no matter how soft my slippers are or how many movies are loaded up on my DVR.
Here's the downside of that, though: Going out means meeting new people. Some of those people are guys. Single guys. Single, close-to-my-age guys. Guys I'm in danger of falling for because I'm a girl &, well, that's what I do. Whether I want to or not. And hopes rise only to be dashed again & I get another cat & lock my door.
Sure there's the hope that this time will be different. But age is my enemy. How many times do you have to be disappointed before hope fades to hesitation and hesitation turns to bitterness & despair? After all, I tell myself, isn't it better to expect the worst than to constantly be let down?
Animal shelter, here I come!
Guess I'm just not sure where God fits into my gradually decaying hope. Maybe He wants me to hope for something else. Certainly I still put my hope in Him, but what does that mean? That my hope is in His love for me? That I trust Him to continue to care for me & provide for me?
Well, there it is. The problem is it isn't about me. It's about Him. And if He can use me better as a single, then my hope must be in that -- not in any human relationship, but in what He wants to do in my life for HIS glory.
End of pity party.
And yes, I do believe God likes cats. . . .
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