**I wrote this awhile ago and promptly forgot to post it. Upon finding it, it still feels worthy of sharing. Add on a few weeks when you see the number 3. Add on a few things to my lists. Make them real good in your head, I won't ask.**
We were early on in our walk when Henry froze up. All it takes is a loud truck or a lot of people to stop him in his tracks. I knelt down and he ran directly into my arms, paws using my knee like a launch pad. I pressed my mouth next to his ear and quietly said, "You're safe, I'm right here. I got you, kid."
I looked up and realized I was directly under a large church. The message was not missed.
In the last 3 weeks, I have changed my hair color and started to grow out my bangs.
I've begun guitar lessons and begun conversations with musicians and producers.
I've started to work with a doggy behaviorist, finding myself carrying meatballs on each walk.
I've taken on a handful of new clients, more than I expected for the shortest month of the year.
I've gone out with other boys, seen best friends, had visits from people who live across the country.
I've seen three Broadway shows, one reading, and one where men made for gorgeous women.
I've taken myself to the MoMA, to the park, to Lincoln Center, out to eat, to get my nails done.
I've been in auditions, callbacks, on-screen with producers in other states, and recorded endless copy.
I've re-arranged my room, changed out the furniture, planted a vision board next to my bed.
I've purged items and papers and junk and clothing and books, donating to people and garbage cans.
I've had endless dreams where I am going up and down stairs, all types, in all places, always stairs.
We were still sitting on the fountain, my favorite place of all, in one of our Conversations. We must have been nearing an hour by then, the summer heat cooling down as evening was settling in. He was continuing on when he said something that struck me:
"I want to know where God is in our relationship."
It quickly became the second best thing he's ever said to me. The first, I realized, had been about God, too.
I was antsy tonight. Checking my phone every few seconds. Instagram, texts, facebook, emails, on repeat. I started to work and stopped a million times. I put on a new episode of pretty little liars, my favorite, but my eyes darted around, hands grabbing for the phone again, feet restless. I was mad at God and ignoring the calming voice telling me to pray, to talk it out. I kept picking up my phone instead, clicking back to facebook, when I heard it:
"What are you looking for? You won't find it there. Pray."
This time it didn't feel like a suggestion.
In the last 3 weeks, I've looked up apartments in other cities, way too many flights.
I've been given multiple gifts, from people I expected them from and people I do not even know.
I've been to church every Sunday at 12:30, usually running late because of course I am.
I've drunk dialed the safest people I could, the ones across the country, too far to meet up.
I've remembered why I hate drinking and don't do it.
I started on a young artists board with an incredible group of other artists, makers, creatives, thinkers.
I've soulcycled my little heart out, hitting each beat beat beat beat, singing along.
I've reached out to new voice teachers, joined a group to read plays just for the sake of reading them.
I've re-designed my website, re-designed my resume, submitted to endless casting breakdowns.
I've finally finalized plans for my business website and logo with my designer.
I've had amazing opportunities, exciting things that made me jump around with delight.
I've fielded questions about you in a way that has taught me the definition of grace.
I have been busy.
I know without a doubt that we are put into situations and frustrations and challenges to learn lessons and grow as humans. I also know none of us have any damn idea what is going to happen next in our lives, despite our desperate and strong beliefs that we definitely-absolutely-totally are planned and ready.
When I talk about following my gut and what I'm called to do, people are excited and on board. When I talk about God, sometimes some of those people are not so sure anymore. To me, it is the same thing. A voice, a calling, guiding me. When I hear "myself" I believe I'm hearing God's will. When I refer to my truth, it's God's truth, too.
For years, I have had this boy on a pedestal but God was not on one. Over the past year, it's started to shift. The pedestal was gone, choosing to stand eye to eye instead, a better view for both of us. I started to talk to God again, started to turn to passages from the bible, started to go back to church and started to really like it. I mean, I named my business after a passage that I love, that I felt called to use. I picked my designer based on a gut instinct that God wanted me to work with her. My life has actually gotten monumentally better in the past year and even better with each step closer back to God. Like, shockingly, surprisingly, mind blowingly better. But still, this boy, my whole heart, my eyes just as wide for him as they are for God. No, even wider. So it's really no wonder to me that I've been flipped up and over and shaken and set back down on the ground without my best friend next to me. It's no wonder that I'm being called back to God even louder now. It's no wonder that I'm being literally forced to replace my fear with my faith. It's also no wonder that I have peace in my heart despite the unknowns and worries coursing through my veins, through my mind. It's no wonder that I am still filled with pure love for him, despite confusion and pain.
And in these past 3-ish weeks, despite the endless list of what I have done, what I had not done yet was hand it on over to God. So tonight I did just that. Take it, lead me, bring me closer to you. Bring him closer to you. If you want us back together, let it be when we're both back with you. Give him the grace he needs to do the work he wants to do in his heart and on his life. Work in him. Work in me. Let him seek out God, that's where he can find me.
We all love a good happy ending. We all nod in agreement as we listen to people talk about how they just needed a month or two apart or a year or two apart in order to realize they didn't want to be apart. We chime in about how important it is to take the time to work on ourselves before being with our partners. But what about while that part is happening? What about the part where we're uncertain, fumbling around like baby deer, just trying to get our footing underneath? What about the middle section of discovering and questioning? The part where the lesson hasn't yet been made fully clear because we're still literally in it? What about the part where we're wildly uncomfortable?
I had caved and been talking out loud for a few minutes when Layla started to fuss, moving from my pillow down to the mattress, laying one way before flipping around to the other and kicking her feet into me. I leaned down to her and smoothed her fur, calming her down. "Can't get comfortable, huh? It's okay, I'm right here, you're okay. Shh, you're okay, you're okay."
The message was not missed.