Hope

I’m praying for you tonight. Not that I don’t pray for you often, but tonight I felt I really needed to. I don’t know if it’s so much for you as it is for me. 
My patience is running thin. I’m tired of waiting. Dont get me wrong, my life is fulfilling. I have a demanding career that keeps me busy. Concerts and dinners that I go to with friends. Family that is near and dear to me. And I can’t forget about Reese (my dog, who will be our dog) who greets me at the door after those long draining days. 

I’m independent. I can cut the grass, cook dinner, paint the bathroom, and even kill a roach by myself ( which I’m extremely afraid of btw), but I’m ready to be vulnerable. I’m ready for my load to lighten. I’m ready to submit instead of rule. I’ve been there, I’ve done that, now I’m ready to give up the throne. 

Where are you King? 

I know I’m being prepared and so are you, but I’m getting weary. 

So I’m praying. 

Praying for strength. 

Praying for patience. 

Praying for you.

I remember two years ago I applied for a promotion within my company. Even though my degrees qualified me for the job, I didn’t have the experience that they wanted. I was devastated. I cried for days because I knew in my heart that the job was supposed to be mine.

It was mine, it just wasn’t time.

I made up my mind that despite being overlooked, I knew promotion was coming for me. “I am promoted”. I spoke this daily and wrote it down as a reminder. I continued to do well in the job I was in. I went back to school and earned my specialist degree. I shadowed my supervisors. I looked for experience outside of my normal job requirements knowing that when the opportunity came again, I would try again.

And it came. I was called in for an interview while I was thousands of miles away in Cambodia. I started to panic thinking, here is the opportunity once again slipping away. But they did a second set of interviews. I came back right in time to be scheduled.

I studied. I prayed. I claimed it. I got it.

Yes, it took two years, but I don’t think I was ready for it then. I believe we are in certain places for a period of time to gain experience and to grow. Those two years strengthened me and prepared me for this job that I will be doing now. What was important in the waiting, is that I kept expecting. I kept hoping. I kept believing that promotion was coming. And now here it is.

Dreams become reality.
Thoughts become things.
Expectations turn into manifestation.

A thought popped in my head today when I arrived home. Would it possible for me to live a life of solitude? Here are a few reasons why I considered it:

I’m already an introvert, so I’m not to far from it.
I hate dating (I prefer sharing my time and energy with one person who understands me).
I hate people (Not really, but I dislike most).
My track record of relationships have been a total fail.
Not to mention there are currently no prospects (my phone is dry as the Sahara)

Solitude seems like a solution to avoid the awkwardness of meeting new people, going on pointless dates, and risking being hurt and used when I decide to give someone a chance. But for a person like me who is a woman of faith, who is a prisoner of hope, and a firm believer in love, I had to quickly snap out of it.

There is no in between. It’s either Faith or Fear.

So instead of choosing an option of isolation because I’m afraid of not receiving what I want, what is it that I really want?

I want meaningful friendships.
I want a relationship that will lead to marriage.
I want a family.

We have to be real with ourselves otherwise we will be miserable. We cannot give into our fears. We cannot try to strategize against fear, we have to overcome it. And We must choose hope to do it. When we feel like drowning, that’s what we need to grab on to, because hope floats.

Love. Hope. Faith.