won over

I haven't been blogging as much as I used to.  I haven't felt the need to as much, but I do kind of miss it.  There are very many profound thoughts that pass through my mind on a daily basis... many of which do not get developed and formed and molded because I just let them pass.  There's something about writing out my thoughts... I'm not sure why but maybe it's just the way God created me... that I need to write things out in order for my thoughts to develop and/or bloom... or for the hazy clouds to fade away and reveal a clarity that can only be achieved (for me) through seeing my own thoughts typed out on the screen. 

Anyway... I've been having thoughts this week and I didn't want to let this one pass.  I wanted to share them with you all and also to put it down into words to remind myself over and over again whenever I forget. Sometimes it seems like hour to hour, my memory needs refreshment.  So here goes:

I've been crying a lot lately.  I used to cry every few days.  I don't know when I stopped crying like that, but there was a dry spell for a few weeks, maybe last month.  The dry spell was accompanied by very great joy so I didn't mind much, but it did feel strange not to have things move me to tears everyday or every few days... even in a good way.  There was one day where I should have cried.  I wanted so badly to cry.  And no tears came out.  I felt stifled.  I was frustrated.  I was lacrimally constipated.  I hate that. 

I like crying.  I don't like it so much when it makes people uncomfortable or weirded out, but in general... I like crying.  It reminds me that I'm human.  That I feel things and I feel them deeply.  I never want to lose that.  And I always used to tell my small group members... "you know it's a good day at [small group] when someone cries".  It's when we're the most vulnerable.  It's when our hearts either joy or (more usually) hurt for one another...when we share moments of deep mourning or deep pain... and that's a beautiful thing.  Doesn't happen by accident or everyday. Quite a phenomenon.  I like it.  It's good stuff. 

The past week, I think... I've been feeling emotionally volatile.  More depressed than normal.  More... something... unexplainable... but definitely emotionally derived. 

Monday, I went with my parents to visit my in-laws who just came back from Taiwan.  I'm very blessed with very awesome in-laws.  I haven't always appreciated them to the fullest, but I know they're awesome and I know that I'm very, very fortunate to have them.  That being said, I almost relate to them like I relate to my grandparents.  I love them, I know I do.  But I don't speak their language so I can't communicate with them.  I have a level of respect for them, but rarely any intimate moments or any form of connection with them.  Usually, they just tell me to eat up, listen to my parents, do well in school (now to do well at work), and be a good girl.  This is pretty much all they've ever told me my whole life.  Generally... that's almost what my in-laws tell me too.  But for some reason... this visit was different.

I walked into their house and immediately felt the emotional whirlpool stirring.  Swirling?  Something was moving.  When I went to sit down on the couch, I saw one of our wedding pictures framed on the side table.  I saw it and I had to look away.  I couldn't bear to look at his face at that moment.  I sat on the couch and for some reason, I remembered us sitting on that very same couch.  Actually it might not have been that specific couch, but we were there.  Sitting together.  Probably holding hands.

Actually, I have a picture of us and it does look like the same couch.  Or maybe this wasn't even in the same house... maybe it's the house next door. 

At the time, we were taking pictures of the model home that their parents just bought (and the ones next door).  Whenever we looked at those model homes, we'd sit and talk about the house that we'd one day have.  How we would have this and that... we'd critique the kitchen and say what we'd change about this or that.  We'd take pictures of the furniture and say, "ooh, let's get that one for our house".  I don't know why out of all the times I'd gone to their house, I'd never remembered those moments like I remembered them that particular day.  I felt the tears well up in my eyes but I decided to fight them back and just go home and cry in the comfort of my own bed, with my own lotion-infused tissues that I bought especially for my frequent night cries.

At first, it didn't seem like the tears would be too hard to fight back. My parents and my in-laws were conversing in... different kinds of Chinese.  My mom was speaking in half Cantonese, half Mandarin... maybe half the time saying Cantonese words with a slightly different tone and hoping that my in-laws would understand.  My in-laws were speaking Mandarin with some English words thrown in here and there.  I started to zone out.  I stared at the other pictures on display.  There were some framed pics of the valentine dinner we went to a few weeks after getting married.  Our picture wasn't there, but there were pictures of my in-laws and my nephew.  It reminded me of our days as happy newlyweds.  My heart started to ache again.  Look away.

At some point, my in-laws stopped talking about business and Taiwan and started talking about Anderson and me.  They said that he had a good heart.  I don't understand much, but I understood that much.  They also said that it would be OK if I got married again.  They said that if I wanted to have a new boyfriend, that I should.  That they look at me like their own daughter, I was still young, and above all else, they wanted me to be happy and they knew that he would want me to be happy too.  I lost it at that point.  The tears fell slowly at first.  And then more rapidly as my mother-in-law rushed over to wipe the tears from my eyes and hold me in her arms.  She said something...something...something... daughter... don't cry.  Oh man.

Wave after wave of emotions washed over me.  Not even all the same category either.  Some waves of guilt and regret over the moments of frustration and annoyance that I felt for them at times when I was living with them last year. Some waves of grief over seeing parents mourn over their beloved son.  Mostly... waves of love that made all other emotions, however still present, fade in comparison.

I have never had a full-on conversation with my in-laws.  Love was shown through gifts, service and actions and not so much words and never very intimately.  I've heard that they've said before that they loved me because they saw the love that I had for their son.  They saw me sacrifice my whole life for him and they saw that it was special and good.  I'm not sure what, if anything, got lost in translation... but... I'm thankful that if anything, they were won over by love and not by words, by politeness or well-mannerisms (because heaven knows I wasn't and didn't have any), by beauty, by Chinese-ness, or by any other characteristic.  They loved me for my love.  Maybe.  I don't know.  And now... even in the absence of their son, my beloved husband, they still love me.  They love me enough to put my happiness above their grief.  They love me enough to honor their son's requests to take care of me and to make sure that I was happy... to put aside the memory of their son as my one and only husband... and possibly see me give that same love to someone else... a stranger to them... but perhaps the next love of my life.  It pain-pangs me to even think of placing another man in a similar role or place in my heart as Anderson once held, even though I feel the draw to fill that hole in my life nearly every day since it was created.

After we left my in-laws... barely sniffling at that point... my mom told me another tidbit she learned from their conversation.  They sold their house in Taiwan.  Part of why they sold it was because there were too many memories there.  And part of the memories they wanted to put away were... the things that Anderson bought and prepared for me... things that he intended to share with me by taking me on a honeymoon to Taiwan.  If I thought I'd bawled at my in-laws' house... I was in near convulsions on the car ride home.  I hadn't cried to the point of hyperventilating in a very, very long time.  I was wailing; I was coughing and gasping for air.  Anderson hadn't been to Taiwan since maybe... 2005 or 2006?  I can't remember.  The fact that he bought things for me... that he had been preparing to take me there... to honeymoon in Taiwan (what a weird place to honeymoon, in my opinion...) but the thought that he loved me enough at that point to do that... 3-4 years before he even proposed... before we got married... oh my goodness... I fell in love with him all over again.  I felt so, SO loved... and also... so, so alone.  My love... my husband... the man I'd waited for all my life... the one-in-6-billion who sought me out... picked me out of the sea of Asian girls at UCI... not the prettiest, not the smartest, not the skinniest, probably a little taller than he could handle... the one with the harsh words, oblivious to her surroundings, who rudely slammed doors and took things with one hand... the one who had no finesse...the crazy Christian girl who broke up with him every week until he believed in Jesus... the one who put him through the craziest emotional roller coaster of his life... but the girl he somehow loved anyway... all our hopes, all our dreams... gone and never to be realized... never fully formed... never brought to fruition... like the thoughts that I never blogged.  Emptiness.  Longing.  Grasping in futility for what will never be.

I realized... that I was still mourning.  I may always mourn him a little bit here and there... for as long as I live.  I don't know.  After I got home... I reached out to a friend I hadn't ever chatted with and was ministered to in ways that I'd never experienced yet... by the heart of another widow my age... who was also still mourning the loss of her beloved.  I felt so blessed in all my misery.  There was that joy that I always feel when I know I've arrived at a divine appointment arranged by the Most High.  I was there for my friend as she was there for me.

I realized today... a few days after the cry-fest... that I've also been mourning the loss of my best friend.  Not only Anderson... but the loss of having that one person with whom I share all the intimate details of my day... my happy moments, my sad ones... the things I struggle with... the things that make me happy.  The loss of one man who takes care of me in that way...oh man, it hurts.  I've had a best guy friend (definitely not the same one) in my life since high school.  I've a history of combusting these types of relationships.  Almost always, they end up having feelings for me and I somehow combust the relationship.  If I ever return the feelings... I date them and I combust the relationship.  I'm a combuster. Anderson was probably the strongest, steel drum under which my combustions could occur and somehow diffuse over time... under the protection of his love, his words, his arms. I know that I combust relationships... and yet, I've nearly always had one to combust.  Not so anymore. 

I wish to avoid future combustions as much as possible.  But... I still yearn to have my best friend back... or another one to take his place.  Why does it have to be a guy?  I don't know.  Maybe it doesn't.  Maybe it seems like all the girls already have best friends and so there's none left for me.  Or maybe... God just doesn't want me to rely on just one person.  He likes to keep me on my toes... keep me living by faith... or maybe... He wants me to really, really realize... that He is all I need and He is all I've ever needed and He is all I will need for as long as we both shall live... and I know that in Him... it is forever and ever.  Forever and always, just like I'd always hoped for the love of my life and me.

God's provided me with such awesome friendships.  I didn't even know how beautiful some of these friendships would be to me when they were forged oh so many years ago.  People I met 10...15 years ago... 5 years ago... 2 years ago... 6 months ago... people I've known my whole life... all of these people minister to me.  Nearly everyday, someone either takes care of me... makes me laugh... eats with me... talks to me... listens to me... gives me gifts (ok not every day for the gifts but it happens here and there).  I have very many friends surrounding me... amazing people... beautiful people... loving people... smiling faces... people who want to see me and/or hang out with me... people who text-versation with me while I'm out and about or who chat with me when I'm sitting at home in my PJ's with my glasses on and retainer in.  I may have lost a best friend, but I have gained so many great ones. And all of this in addition to finding the greatest Love of my life in Jesus.  He is more than enough for me... and He has provided more than enough for my needs.  Need I ask for more?  Probably not... but my heart still yearns for it... so I will pray for it... acknowledge it... and leave it up to Him for whether or not another one is in the plan for me.  His plan is perfect.  His plan is better than mine and I trust wholeheartedly in that.  If I remain single the rest of my life... I know that it is the best for me.

This feels like a very long one so I'll just stop developing my thoughts and end it with one last closing one.  There was this one devotional in Streams in the Desert... about a woman who had a cross around her neck and didn't like it.  She looked at someone else's... it seemed so much more ornate and prettier than her own.  She put it on and it was way too heavy.  It weighed her down and was uncomfortable.  There was another one...beautifully covered with flowers... she also put it on and found that the thorns from the flowers pricked her something terrible. She picked up her own cross and put it on... and found that it was the perfect weight, the perfect size... and it somehow became beautiful in her eyes because she knew that this cross was made specifically for her... unique to her tendencies... unique to her strengths and weaknesses... and she rested content in knowing that someone created it just for her.  I may have embellished or skipped over a few parts, but I know I've got the gist.  I am uniquely equipped, born for and bred to live my life and my life only.  I may see the beauty in other people's lives, but their lives are theirs and they come with weights or thorns that I cannot see and am not equipped to handle.  Loving and being thankful for what I've got comes from knowing and realizing that (1) this life is a gift of love to me... a gift I don't even deserve... (2) that in all wisdom, sovereignty, grace, and love... God orchestrated it and created it... formed it and molded it... in His perfect timing... in His perfect way... exactly, purposefully, lovingly prepared just for me.  I love that.  I appreciate it.  And I'm thankful for it.  I'm won over by His love.

Night!  (or good morning actually...)
<3,
Tiff