This is a letter from your past. You are sitting here writing it to yourself and thinking about how you should be reading those chapters in organic chemistry and genetics, but at this very moment in time, you don't care. You are listening to a playlist entitled "Emotion" and it has all the songs that ever made you cry. You're not sure why you made it- some emotional, womanly torture device, you think to yourself sometimes- but you are listening to it and it is bringing tears back into your eyes. You've had a bad day. Two in a row, actually. Four if you are stretching the definition to encompass "crummy" days too. Breathe. Breathe. Swallow. Did you know the Yogis used to say that if you can control your breath, you can control your life? Too bad you are not really good at doing either of those two things right now. You just smiled a little at that line and you hope it makes you laugh one day.
Ah, laughing, that seems really far off right now, but, you are confident that it will happen soon enough. You are now listening to Let Go, Frou Frou. You like this song and you love its lyrics:
Right now, you do not feel beautiful and you doubt that you look it, because you have been crying and wiping your face and leaning over a toilet, sitting on your bathroom floor. Your head hurts and
you feel nauseaous. You're stressed, to say the least. That line made you laugh a little. You got the news about the RA job, which you didn't get. You watched yourself puke in the toilet and you
flushed it and everything else- the RA job, the cancelled trip to England, the idea of a relieved financial burden, the D you are making in Anatomy, every assignment you have on that stupid,
never-ending list of yours, that girl that got mad at you for sharing your opinion on organized religion, all that chocolate you ate, your boyfriend's snappy comments last night, every art piece
idea you push out of your head because you don't have time, and your so-called friends- down the drain. You are feeling somewhat better. You look up the symptoms to a panic attack on webmd.com and
you diagnois yourself.
Your facebook status is "Katy is trusting in God." And you shake your head and think, what else can I do? You don't understand everything, but you doubt you ever will. You've been reading back over OD entries and you know, without a doubt, that God has a plan for you that is bigger than anything you could have imagined. You will probably read this and cry. You tell people on the elevator that, in ten years, you will be a doctor and you have no clue how you will get there, but you believe yourself. You watched House last night and right as you gave up, it went to a commercial of a young girl with brown hair named Alexis. You are reminded that God has a plan. For once, in your messed up, human life, you tilt your head back and give it up and back to God and you just simply trust Him.
Follow the white rabbit. It leads down a dark hole, but when you get out on the other side, you realize you are in Alice's Wonderland. Corny? Perhaps. Relevant? Probably. Metaphorical? Definitely. You were always one for metaphors. You didn't expect yourself to go a whole letter without mentioning at least one, did you?
I hope you read this letter and know the end of the story. You were doing that earlier- you were reading entries about Logan and Matt, etc. and you thought to yourself, I know exactly how this ends. The ending, where you are now, is more than enough to make up for the pain you went through. If you knew then what you know now, it wouldn't be called Faith. And your faith is being tested. You are living the book of Job, but you know the end of that story too. Pray. Trust. Let go. God will take care of you if you let Him. Just throw your head back and let your body shake as you weep uncontrollably with the feelings of fear, being out of control, and confusion, sitting on a cold tiled-floor of a dorm bathroom (and since you are a bit neurotic, you are wondering when it was last cleaned).
You feel like you have finally, after all this time, started to learn from your mistakes. You have begun to break the cycles you saw yourself go round and round in during high school. You realize you have two choices: (1) Wallow in self-pity while letting this loss of control consume you as you frantically seek to put all the pieces together, by yourself and without a picture to look at, and become worried and panicked about how you are going to do everything and not feel overwhelmed, or (2) you can trust God has a plan and wait for what to do next.
Admit it, you like being the passenger. You driving always meant someone's blood pressure was going to go up. Smile. Like you were saying to someone else, "Our lives are like a beautiful tapestry God is weaving for us. We are only able to see the back of it- the hanging threads, the mess and tangle of strings, the negative of the image. It is only when we are able to finally, in God's time, flip it around and see what He has been working on all this time that we understand and appreciate Him. We see the big, beautiful picture." Take your own advice. Be His. It's that simple.
I love you and now you must get back to work or you will get even more behind! Just kidding, don't be stressed. Breathe. Breathe. Pray.
I can't wait to meet you.
© Copyright 2016 Kathryn. All rights reserved.
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