Saturday, May 25, 2013

Not Made for Here

I’m not convinced I’m made for this place.  It hurts.  When I live as I believe I am best to live, it really  hurts. I think I scare people.  I think my friends find me hard work and far too intense. Yes, I am intense.  But no longer will I think of myself as being too intense. I am as intense as I am. Yes, I insist on living incredibly authentically, with belligerent commitment to integrity, honesty and loving & connecting deeply.  This is not normal. Or at least, it is not usual.  And it’s lonely.  I asked a trusted confidante the other day if this was an unhealthy way to think. She reminded me of the bell curve.  I’m still normal, but it seems I sit at a tail on many things, and thus, yes, it is lonely.  That’s not an arrogant statement, not in the slightest, I say it with the greatest humility and a deep desire to understand why I find this place so hard, why I seem to face much opposition to simply being me.  Perhaps opposition is too active a word.  Me being me can tend to make people uncomfortable.  However, how else do we explore new possibilities unless we are challenged, unless we move out of our comfort zones? Me causing discomfort is not something I want to shy away from.  It’s not something I actively seek to do – my desire is not to hurt or cause pain, but I do like to challenge and provoke and open windows to new thoughts and possibilities and new ways of thinking and seeing.  And let’s face it, new things, whilst exciting, still involve change, and change is rarely comfortable.

I love too deeply for most people’s comfort; I do things to try and help people discover they are as wonderful as I see them to be, and I do it relentlessly.  Because being told “I love you” in an instant of time does not sustain you.  Love is an ongoing action.  We all need to hear and feel and receive active love. Not occasionally, but consistently. So yes, I’ll send encouraging, loving texts daily, yes, I’ll remind you that are you splendid and wonderful with great frequency, yes, i will hold on even when I am hurting and bleeding inside, because I know most of you don’t know how wonderful you are.  Not that I necessarily know that about myself, but I know it a lot better now than I used to. Today I know my God gazes on me with the deepest and most intense love.  My intensity is but a whisper compared to the way He loves me, and you.  My desired depth of connection is but an arcing circuit compared to how deeply He longs to be connected to me, and you. This at least I know.  Human love I find a little more fleeting, a little more difficult to trust and hold on to, but trust I do, though it pains me. Yes, I panic too.  Yes, sometimes the waves seem too big and I lose sight of my God and I cry out in desperation to be saved.  Thankfully, He is unflinchingly faithful and always ready to reach out His hand when I falter.  For my friends, for those I love, my stumblings are harder to understand, harder to weather.  I trust my God has them too.  I trust that somehow He will sustain their love for me through my intensity and my clinging and my soft, sensitive and often bloody heart wounds. 

I’m not sure I’m made for this place.  But I am grateful for those who walk by my side, near and far. Those who love me through my stumbling, through my elations, through my laughter and through my tears.  Those for whom I cry anguished tears and pray desperate prayers as I long for you to know how wonderfully splendid you are, that you might be free to love, to live abundantly, joyfully and playfully.  Thank you for loving me and holding on even when I’m hard to be with, even when I’m messy and panicking and uncomfortable for you to be with.  You keep me anchored. Thank God for you.


Unknown said...

2 Corinthians 4:8
"It's lonely at the top", but it is the best place for you to let your light shine Jane.
Glad to see you're still awesome my friend.

Jane Gianoutsos said...

Oh Aaron, Thank you. I needed that. :-)

Unknown said...

That is beautifully written and very poignant. Thank you for taking the time to share so openly and eloquently. In truth, I think none of us are made for here... The fact that you feel it so keenly and feel at times out on a limb is perhaps testament to the fact that you are living exactly as you ought... in fact how we all ought to be. God can and will use you mightily Jane, not the least of which might be to drag the bell curve along a bit, so that more of us are living authentically and that limb of yours is not quite as lonely as it has been. Awesome.

TroubleWithTaylors said...

Just as well you love red, with all the blood and guts and stuff spewing forth.
You know you I hear you say it's scary in the big waves, but you know I see you paddled out there on your surfboard and once you are standing up it will be a mighty thing to watch you take control of the power behind those waves, and steer your own course as God created you to!