Thursday, 08 January 2009

• I Never Walk Alone

   by miss poppy 
  

  

  Ever since I was little, I've created worlds in my head. Some of them included me, others didn't. When I was little, these alternate universe stories helped me learn and navigate challenges or just get through boring times at school. As I have grown older, the worlds have started to look more and more like the real world with a few differences. In my stories, I'm pretty fabulous. I navigate life with ease and confidence. I face my challenges and defeat them. I have weaknesses, but they're conveniently endearing. When I am down, one of the other characters in my story is there to help. I always have arms to run to, shoulders to cry on, people to talk to.
  
  Just yesterday I finished watching a television show (K-drama). Instead of feeling the appropriate burst of happiness at the romantic conclusion, I found myself deeply disturbed by the virtual abandonment of one character by the only father figure she had ever known. It was obvious the viewer was supposed to feel that things turned out the way they "had to be," but I was unsettled. 
  
  I realized, as I was going through my usual theophostic process of figuring out my emotions and beliefs, that deep inside me there was a fear of abandonment. This is an extremely ironic realization for someone who values personal space and time extremely highly.
  
  As I thought about it, I realized that for a long time I have viewed life, growing up, adulthood, with resignation to the fact that some day I would be totally on my own. Some day, when I had reached a certain age or level of financial independence, all the things that scared me would be mine to navigate. My family would still be around, but I would be the one responsible.
  
  No longer would I have my parents to help me make decisions, my sister to warn me against wearing clothes that clash, or helping hands to guide me as I navigated. Never good with new things, I would be pushed into them mercilessly by life. The way of adulthood. The little girl who was seemingly born without the innate sense of how to do anything would be foisted onto the watching world.
  
  Because of this fear, I did two things. First, I tried to hasten the break. I acted like I didn't care. I got good grades and picked an extremely tough school to attend. I rebelled against the idea of waiting an extra year before attending school. I saw the trajectory of my life as college attendance and then professional singlehood. Why delay the inevitable? The world, with all its cold, hard, pointed edges was waiting for me to trip and put a gash in my knee. Why not run toward the pain?
  
  After I got sick, I did another thing. I hung on to the dependence. I enjoyed the safety zone. This was not a bad thing for a while, but later it became a kind of prison. I couldn't figure out how to make myself want to step into the blinding sunlight to be smashed by the mack truck of expectations.
  
  I knew that some day soon I would be abandoned, not because of anyone's fault, but because it was the right thing. Young ones have to learn to fly, right? I wouldn't want to bear the shame of unused wings.
  
  Like the little girl in the story, my help and protection would be removed. Such is life.
  
  But such is not Life.
  
  As I took out the fear and looked at it, I realized truth that I have never applied in this way before: God's caring, watchful presence negates all need to fear the path of life. The reality reached my head, and then I asked God to reveal it to my heart. He did so with His comforting presence. I know now that the day I have dreaded so long will never come; my Father will never leave me. I may grow and change, but i will never be too old to be God's little girl.. His hand will point the way, His voice will whisper the decisions I am to make, his arms will protect and shelter me, and His presence will be with me. I won't have to face the freezing world alone.
  
  There's a reason that the stories in my head always included loving arms to soothe away the hurt. Even grown-ups needs shoulders to cry on.
  
  In the show I watched, there is an emotional scene in which the guardian of the little girl (Bori) holds her tightly in his arms and says to her "I'll never die. I'm going to live a thousand years with my Bori."
  
  A thousand years from now, I will still be held safely in my Father's arms. Because of His love, I will never, ever be abandoned, and I will never walk alone.

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