I have always been a stubborn person. I have always liked to make my own decisions and create my own paths. Like Robert Frost's poem, I like to take the road less travelled. Almost a year ago, I let somebody into my life after I had made the decision to go to France. You've all probably read a part of my blogs and know that I kind of regret the decision of going to France. Although, I think the real poor decision was bringing somebody into my life. But that is a decision I have to live with now and I may regret the things that I did after I came back, but I am NOT sorry for my actions. I recently read this scripture in church and realized that I was searching for mercy, I made a cry for help.
Help, God—the bottom has fallen out of my life! Master, hear my cry for help!
Listen hard! Open your ears!
Listen to my cries for mercy.
3-4 If you, God, kept records on wrongdoings,
who would stand a chance?
As it turns out, forgiveness is your habit,
and that's why you're worshiped.
5-6 I pray to God—my life a prayer—
and wait for what he'll say and do.
My life's on the line before God, my Lord,
waiting and watching till morning.
I looked for mercy in another falliable human being, and found shame and disdain. I had been going to church to find a way out of my misery and one day my mind shifted, I had to cry out. I still found reproach, but within me I found release, I found peace. Because of my steadfast belief in my God, I was able to live with my irrational decision to ask a another human for mercy that couldn't be given. Through my cry, I believe God gave me that mercy. He gave me what no other human could have given me.
Five months later I find myself at another crossroads. I'm fully functional and rational this time and I was able to ask my father for advice. I think through my cry, God was able to give me insight into the trust I could put into my Father. I have never felt closer to my Papi, as I do now.
My heart has been in two places and the weight of having to make a decision as to where I should place it fully has conflicted me. By not making a choice I stand the chance of not just hurting others, but in the process myself. I tell myself that I am okay with functioning like this, but much to my surprise, my Father knows me better than I thought he did. He understands my love of people and my desire to hurt no one. He knows I don't like conflict, and that I am the only one that can resolve it. He quite simply told me, you have to make a choice. The longer I wait, the more it tears my heart, the more it stresses my thoughts, the more it keeps me conflicted. So, before I create drama for myself, I must make a choice. Both paths have been well travelled, but not by me. Everybody comes to this crossroads, do I stick with what I know to be safe, or do I take a risk?
My heart may take a beating if I take the road less travelled, but I know that my trust in my father and my trust in God will allow me to heal again. It is a risk, but I have faith that I will come out unscathed on the other side.
Our choices are not always black or white, the gray area is sometimes more prevalent.
For me I think I will take the road less travelled.....
|TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,|
|And sorry I could not travel both|
|And be one traveler, long I stood|
|And looked down one as far as I could|
|To where it bent in the undergrowth;||5|
|Then took the other, as just as fair,|
|And having perhaps the better claim,|
|Because it was grassy and wanted wear;|
|Though as for that the passing there|
|Had worn them really about the same,||10|
|And both that morning equally lay|
|In leaves no step had trodden black.|
|Oh, I kept the first for another day!|
|Yet knowing how way leads on to way,|
|I doubted if I should ever come back.||15|
|I shall be telling this with a sigh|
|Somewhere ages and ages hence:|
|Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—|
|I took the one less traveled by,|
|And that has made all the difference.|
I hope Robert Frost is right....