“Everything was different. The life I had planned out was gone, stripped away by my own foolishness and the anger of the one I fled. I peeled away the cushions from my mother’s couch so that I could have a place to sleep. The plop of each pillow onto the familiar floor reminded me I had failed. I was safe. I was back. I was not unaware of how fortunate I am to have a family that, though they warned my decision to leave was perilous, still welcomed my prodigal self back through the front door.
I had panicked. After high school the world expanded, so I bonded myself to the one thing I thought I knew — a boy, no wiser than myself. I figured we would be able to walk together into whatever life had. Instead we tore each other apart. The unknown had tempted me into trying to create a life I could control and taught me the lesson of mice and men.
“The best laid schemes of mice and men
Go often askew,
And leave us nothing but grief and pain,
For promised joy!”
-Robert Burns (To a Mouse, on Turning Her Up in Her Nest with the Plough)
The happiness I thought I could secure by padding my transition into adulthood was laden with folly, but it also led to a transformation I treasure to this day. It thrust me into the arms of my Jesus, and the humble acknowledgement that God is God and I am not. I have found that transition can torture or transform. Sometimes it does both.
Progression is not something always welcomed or expected. Love finds us when we least desire it. Illness, accidents, or tragedy can change everything without warning. We begin to feel proficient at tapping our foot along to the rhythm of life only to find the tune changing, leaving us lost and off-beat…Read more at Venn Magazine