Words crashing through the flames smoke spreading far
And I thought we'd remain free from it's harm
You let the fire out, and it's right in front of me
And I thought we'd remain free from it's harm
You let the fire out, and it's right in front of me
-"The Fire" by Kina Grannis
Who do I want to be? For all of its
downs, moving across the country is a great opportunity to reinvent
yourself. I'm not nearly fluid or flexible enough to fake my own
personality, but I do feel like I have some leeway in deciding what
facets of my personality I allow to come to the forefront. When I
moved here, it was all about being free and not judgmental – the
opposite of my Pennsylvania self. At my core, I am pretty
progressive but there are many of conflicting influences in my head.
I've got the religious and familial guilt and a whole pile of
cultural indoctrination that rolls around that I've gotten really
good at ignoring, but I'm trying, for the first time in a long time
(maybe ever), to be informed by the faith I can't ignore and allow my
callous heart to be shaped and changed, to allow myself to be
vulnerable where I've before only protected, reacted, and practiced
stubbornness. I'm not so good at this changing thing.
And then, when I'm most honest with
myself, I remember that I'm also inexorably affected by my
affections. How many times have I molded myself toward similarity to
whomever my heart desired only to find myself with neither the object
of my affection nor lasting change? I don't want to be that girl,
now or ever again.
So then, when the desired is perhaps
closer to transformed than I, how am I to respond when his heart is
hurting from our actions but mine is not? Am I not close enough to
the mind of God? Am I hardened still to contrition? Is he
just more in tune with the heart of God than I am? Are our personal
experiences creating the differences in response? Does his own
regret and conviction apply to me in the same way in his head? Does
he think I should feel remorse?
I feel only glad for the connection and
camaraderie, but now another dimension of guilt has been applied and
introduced nerves for the future. Why do we do this to ourselves?
Why, even in that statement, do I apply a “we” rather than own my
own feelings and lack of feelings?
How do I balance this fine line between
support and indoctrination without falling off either cliff?
I'm not one for regret, but tonight,
I'm trying to find grace for callousness.
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