plummet

I say that I believe all the time.

I believe in God. I believe in forgiveness. I believe that He loves me. I believe that my family loves me. I believe that those I care about really do love me. I believe that everything will be okay. I believe I believe I believe I believe.

But I don't.

It isn't exactly that I don't believe those things, that I don't think of those things as true. More accurately, I don't think that I have committed my entire self to believing those things. I hold part of myself back, just in case it isn't true. There is a portion of my heart that I reserve to always keep a watchful eye out in every situation should one of those beliefs suddenly be disclosed as false and my suspicions confirmed. That allows me to get out while I can without getting too hurt. If I never fully commit to an idea, I will always be able to recover when that idea doesn't work out.

And this nice little plan of mine worked for a while. A long while, in fact. I've been protecting myself in such a fashion for virtually my entire life. But in the past year, two very important series of events have made me realize that I can't go on anymore with one hand always on the doorknob, ready to retreat at a moment's notice. First, I graduated and had every plan and sense of comfort pulled out from under me. And second--and those of you who know me, please forgive me for mentioning something that I normally don't go in depth about, being as afraid of feelings and warm fuzzies as I am-- I fell in love.

These two things, more than anything in my entire life, had made it utterly clear to me that I have a choice to make. I cannot survive a life of continual uncertainty and change-- the life that I know I have to live for at least a few more years-- without surrendering myself completely to the belief that God is in control, He loves me, and no matter how much I screw up He always will. I have to let myself accept that. I just do. And once I do, I can live the life that God has dreamed up for me, but until then I am only holding myself back from throwing myself at His feet in complete faith. And I have to give up rationalizing and the list of flaws that I keep about myself, and realize that love is not about being rational or being perfect but about loving someone for who they are that moment, and allowing them to love you. I can't keep expecting it all to fall out from under my feet at any moment. I have to throw myself in head-first-- do a damn cannonball into the things that I can't measure or prove via logical methods. I can't be scared of the things that I feel and experience just because their nature demands an element of uncertainty. 

So I'm letting go of all of my objections and letting myself-- all of myself-- land in whatever position life and love have for me. And the funny thing is that, while as with all inward transformations this letting go is a slow and gradual process, I feel as if my life feels like more of a plummet than anything at the moment.