I’m nearing the end of my stay in Southern California. I leave El Cajon on Friday so I’m tying up loose ends. Trying to get last things done for Isabella, hoping that I’ve made a difference in her life and that she will be able to move on with love and hope.
I can’t say I’m sorry to leave Southern California. I’m not going to miss the sunshine and constant warmth, strangely enough. There are times in Oregon when I would like more sunshine but I’m happy with a climate that provides breaks from not just the rain but the heat, also. There are no breaks from the neat down here. And for me, constant sunshine is so boring.
As is usually the case, my intentions didn’t turn out as I had hoped. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I told God I would let Him take the reigns and He has. This trip was therapeutic for me, something I wasn’t expecting. It has helped me to continue making sense of what I sometimes consider an almost non-sensical life. I understand a bit better. The beat goes on.
And it was during a luncheon in a seafront restaurant in San Clemente with a wonderful friend that once again moved me to the next step. This same friend told me back in the mid-80’s that I was a small town boy trying to make it in the big city in Orange County. I was offended by her comments because they stung. They were correct. I didn’t want to admit it.
This time around, her comments didn’t sting, but they echoed in my mind. And yet they were so simple, things I had told myself so many times before. Things others have said. Why did they reverberate now?
She said that our lives balance out no matter what. We make decisions that sometimes lead to unhappy or negative consequences. So, we backtrack (hopefully) and take a different path. Those subsequent paths lead to different consequences and results which help to balance out the negative. Sometimes they, too, will be negative. Sometimes they will be positive.
She helped me to more fully understand and comprehend the very words I wrote in my book, This is My Lemonade-An Adoption Story (shameless promotion, again). I wrote the words in my book and I’ve re-read them upwards of four dozen times. But sometimes it takes the words of a trusted and knowing friend to cut through the crap and reiterate the obvious.
Sometimes I feel that I gloss over what has happened throughout this adoption journey, a journey that will influence me for the rest of my life. My friend told me of how my decisions brought me to this place. I could have made different decisions, but I didn’t. I made the ones that were important for me at the time and I put everything else, including my life on hold.
Those decisions have come home to roost over the years and now I have new decisions to make that will shape my future. I’m making them and they are decisions that couldn’t be made in the past because I wasn’t ready. Now I am. At fifty-five. Gawd.
I wish I could have made these decisions, or some like them decades earlier. But I wouldn’t be who I am now. Things happened in my life. Possibilities I never imagined became real. I stepped off the “normal” track to see what was down a different path. And I kept going, leaving that “normal” path behind.
And I’m not sorry. I feel empowered. I’m making decisions for my future, and I’m not worried. Things have always worked out. And they will continue to do so. After a wrong turn, I will right myself and make another decision and keep going until I find the right answer. Balance.
I fully believe in a benevolent God, One who cares for His people and watches over them. I also firmly believe in free will and how we can thwart the good things He wants for us. This realization has played into my desire for logic and for understanding how life works in concert with my faith in Him and how He works. Perhaps I’ll have this game called life figured out before I croak.
In the meantime, I feel so much more hopeful about the future. I realize that I need to keep making decisions, not sit around waiting for things to happen. I am most motivated when I rock the boat. I’m like my brother in that respect, only I rock it a bit more gently. He tips it over.
Life will balance out. It is balancing out. And I don’t need to fear. There’s an old saying that God protects children and fools. There’s enough of both inside of me to guarantee that I’ll be deeply protected for the rest of my life.
But having a firmer grasp on how my input is affecting my life and how God’s grace and love for me is working in concert with my efforts really gives me comfort. I know He’s there and I’m protected and that balance is coming. The beat goes on.