Exactly 10 months out of prison
Today is not a great day.
Nothing terrible happened. No crisis. No devastating news. My life is actually really good. And yet, my head has been all over the place today, and I've wanted to burst into tears more times than I can count.
Part of it is just another fun side effect of being a woman. But part of it is anxiety. A little depression. Feeling overwhelmed. All things that rarely hit me like this anymore, but apparently today they decided to have a reunion in my head.
Normally, when I feel myself starting to spiral, I can redirect pretty quickly. Today has been harder.
The good news is that I have absolutely no desire to drink or use. Ever. God removed that desire from me completely while I was working my Steps, and I don't take that for granted. But sobriety doesn't mean my brain suddenly stopped looking for other things to obsess over.
Lately, I've been trying to realign my values with God's purpose for my life. In one of my last Dear Prison Pals posts, I asked my friends behind the gate if just wanting a strong Christian man who will pray with me was too much to ask.
And then... in walks a man from stage right, and I freeze.
I looked at myself and realized something ridiculously important that should and would probably be obvious to most normal human beings, which I am not.
I wasn't ready for the kind of relationship I'd been asking God for.
Ouch. Right?
But hear me out, because I'm not being self-deprecating. I'm not saying I'm not good enough or that I'm unworthy. I'm not saying I don't deserve a good man or that I have to become some perfectly healed, Proverbs 31 version of myself before someone can love me.
That's not what I mean at all.
I mean that I'm asking God for a spiritually mature relationship while recognizing there are places in my own spiritual life that aren't yet aligned with what I'm asking for. I don't know if I'm ready to lay out every detail of what that means yet, but there it is.
I know I talk about guys on this blog. Honestly, those are some of the funniest, rawest, most relatable moments. But if I'm really examining myself, sometimes it's an escape mechanism too.
I'm getting so close to feeling whole, but little moments like today remind me that I'm not completely there yet.
And I don't have to be. Because with little realizations like this one, I get a little bit closer to God's vision for my life.
That doesn't mean I can't be friends with someone, get to know them, laugh with them, or enjoy having them in my life. It doesn't mean a friendship couldn't eventually become something more. It just means I don't have to figure any of that out right now.
Honestly, meeting someone whose walk with God I truly admire has made me look harder at my own. Not because I want to become a better woman for someone else, but because seeing faith lived out in someone else can remind us of what we want to strengthen in ourselves.
I want to be a better human being. A better Christian whose primary purpose is to pour Jesus' love out onto other people.
And that's when I started thinking about what I've actually been asking God for.
If I expect a man's first response to be to pray with me, shouldn't prayer be my first response too?
If I expect a man to turn to biblical principles as his core values, shouldn't my values consistently reflect those same principles?
If I'm asking for someone who puts God first, shouldn't I be making sure that's exactly where I'm putting Him?
That one stung a little.
Because I truly, completely, 100% love Jesus. There is absolutely no question in my heart about that. Never has been.
But if I'm being completely honest, too often I still allow things in my life to slip in front of Him.
And that's just not okay with me.
There's so much more I can be doing. More time with God. More prayer. More Scripture. More service. More helping people. More listening and less trying to decide for myself exactly how everything is supposed to happen. Less trying to figure out who people are supposed to be in my life and more just appreciating who they are while they're there.
Less of my own writing. More of God's. God is the author. Not me.
In prison, I would listen to a song by Jamie Grace over and over again called The Waiting. I actually got overwhelmed while writing this tonight and had to stop and listen to it.
Of course I did.
A song I clung to in prison about waiting is now reminding me how to handle this exact moment in my life.
Apparently I'm still learning.
And today, while my head was spinning and I wanted to cry and obsess and crawl inside myself, I realized I had a choice about what I did next.
So I sang.
Right there in my office (granted, I was by myself), I sang my go-to worship song out loud, Lord, I Lift Your Name on High.
Then I prayed.
And when I ran out of words, I quietly spoke out loud the most powerful name in all of Heaven and Earth.
"Jesus."
Afterwards, I blasted Victory House Worship's I Want to Spend It All on You, another song that helped me survive in prison and apparently helped me survive today too.
Then tonight, I came home to hold myself accountable and write this while I'm still going through it. While I'm still emotional. While I'm still figuring out where I'm falling short and where God is asking me to grow.
While I'm still Healing in Real Time.