I'm not waving, I'm drowning

There is a song by Ryan Long called, "I'm Not Waving, I'm Drowning," and it's about a guy at the beach who goes out swimming and gets caught in a rip tide. His friends back on shore think he's waving, so they just wave back. When he gets back to shore, he asks them why they were waving at him. They said that they were just waving back, to which he responds, "I wasn't waving, I was drowning!"

The last verse of the song goes,

"I'm not waving, I'm drowning,
Upon your door I'm pounding.
Take from me my fear, take all my shame
'Cause I can't make it anymore on my own."

I started thinking about this a week or so ago in relation to work where there are too many things on my plate for me to appropriately allocate my time. And while that is true and it does apply to work because, believe me, I am about to sink, as I looked at the lyrics this afternoon, I looked at it in a different light.

My small group is reading The Cost of Discipleship by Deitrich Bonhoffer right now, and at our next meeting, we are having a night of reflection about the previous few chapters. So I have been thinking some about this song in light of what we have been discussing.

I am, by nature, a planner. I do not like the unexpected. I like to know what is coming and mentally prepare myself for it. I am a control freak. I didn't exactly pick the right career for a planning control freak, but hey. It's probably for the best.

It has been years since I have had anything resembling a consistent prayer life or since I have regularly taken time to read my Bible. I think part of it comes from fear. Fear of more unknown. Fear of what in the world God is going to ask me to do. Fear that I will fall apart.

But here I am, God. This is me telling you that I'm not waving, I'm drowning. Asking you to take away my fear. Asking you to take away the shame that comes with honesty. Because yep. I can't do this on my own anymore.

I got here in relation to work, but yep. The whole thing. Take my control freak away. Except, if I'm honest, I don't mean it. I still want a little bit to control. Just a tiny piece. I'm afraid to ask you to break me of it, because lack of control is scary to me.

Yeah. I'm not waving. I'm drowning.

Hello My Old Heart

Whenever I hear this song by The Oh Hellos, I get tingles. Because this is how my heart felt not too long ago. I have written about that before (here), so I wanted to share the lyrics.

The Oh Hellos - Hello My Old Heart

Hello my old heart,

How have you been?

Are you still there inside my chest?

I've been so worried,

You've been so still,

Barely beating at all.

Oh, don't leave me here alone

Don't tell me that we've grown

For having loved a little while.

Oh, I don't want to be alone.

I want to find a home,

And I want to share it with you.

Hello my old heart,

It's been so long

Since I've given you away.

Every day I add another stone 

To the walls I built around you

To keep you safe.

Oh, don't leave me here alone

Don't tell me that we've grown

For having loved a little while.

Oh, I don't want to be alone.

I want to find a home,

And I want to share it with you.

Hello my old heart,

How have you been?

How is it being locked away?

Don't you worry. 

In there you're safe,

And it's true you'll never beat,

But you'll never break.

Nothing lasts forever.

Some things aren't meant to be,

But you never find the answers. 

Until you set your old heart free,

Until you set your old heart free.

Hello my old heart.

Hello my old heart.

Hello my old heart.

Hello my old heart.

I love the second part of the last verse. "Don't you worry. In there you're safe, and it's true you'll never beat, but you'll never break." You'll never get hurt if you're locked away. If you hide yourself. If you build up walls and keep people from getting in. Yeah, it's safe. But what is safe if there is nobody to share it with? And ultimately, your heart ends up breaking anyway. Just in a completely different way. 

What is

I traveled back to my childhood home this weekend so I could attend a friend's baby shower. Side note that I had to change my wording from, "home" to "childhood home" because that city isn't home anymore, which is strange, although it hasn't been home for a while. I have said several times over the last few years that I couldn't see myself living there again, and that is more true every time I return, but I digress.

This morning, my mom was looking for some outfits my grandma made for my brothers when they were little so she could see if they would fit my nephew. Side note again, he is turning 1 later this month; not sure how that happened. Anyhow, along with those outfits, we came across a few sweet little dresses I had worn as a baby. I think there were two that were just cute that she saved and two or three that she had made that she saved. We looked at the dresses, and all I could think about was that I may never have a baby to put in them. My mom voiced what I was thinking. At least to some extent. She just commented on how we needed to find a husband for me so I could have children. She knows I want to get married, but we don't have regular conversations about it by any means. I got started to wondering what it's like for her to have an unmarried daughter. If she senses the difficulty and frustration. If she worries about me being alone, and not for safety reasons. She would worry about that no matter what unless I was under the same roof as her. It was the first time I realized that my singleness had an effect on someone other than me.

I can remind myself day and night of all of how independent I am; of how fine I am on my own. Of all of God's promises to me; not ones that promise a husband, but ones that promise what is best for me. And at the end of the day, I always, somehow, still find a way to bemoan my current state of affairs. Not that I won't always find a way to bemoan my current state of affairs, no matter what they are. I think the fact of the matter is that it's not about what I want. It's about being content with what I have. Being content with what is.