September 11, 2018
I cried three times yesterday.
I was tired. I was premenstrual. I was frustrated. But most of all, I was disappointed because something I vied for, didn’t come into fruition. It was a hard blow. A hard No. A self-reflecting realization that I wasn’t good enough – at least not this time, and perhaps every other time I sought something and ‘failed’.
As I was sitting in my office, hands over eyes, holding back tears and asking all the whys, what’s and how’s…I was reminded of the day, years ago, when I was told our rental application was denied because our property manager was constantly unavailable to confirm our good standing. I had fallen in love with the potential rental and already envisioned where my office would be and what school the kids would attend. It was a competitive housing market and I felt frustrated, disappointed, even angry that I was in this vulnerable position of renting.
I was losing faith. Just like I was losing faith in myself, my efforts and my works when I was denied the other day. Back then I also cried while losing hope. Somewhere in-between my tears my husband reminded me to have patience, faith and discipline – and focus on a home we truly wanted, not something we could frugally afford in our earliest years together.
I think of how to play the long game often, especially as I continue to work towards lofty goals of empowering women, encouraging community, promoting health and fostering healthy friendships. I’m no stranger to rejection, but it still stings just as bad as that moment I lost the house I really wanted. And I suppose it should sting, after all, it’s better to love, hope strive and live passionately, than to not dream any dream at all.
Most recently, I was visiting my sister and drove passed a particular home on her street I had admired for years. I loved its drive-in garage towards the back. I loved the small steps leading to the front door and always imagined how grand this large house looked inside. On that day however, instead of driving by, I stopped right in front of the house in astonishment. While the outdoor paint, stonework and yard were different, I recognized the floor plan, because it was exactly the same as the house I currently live in.
I couldn’t believe it.
The house I always admired – especially during the tougher times – was the house I now sleep in every day.
Yesterday I thought about those disappointing downfalls, which led to those miraculous moments. I thought about all the things I wished for that didn’t come true – that in retrospect I’m happy didn’t go through – because if it did, everything would change.
So here I am seeking that future perspective, no longer wishing I had value – but realizing, someday, someone will see my value.
Here I am, not seeking recognition from one big company, but finding validation from thousands of little families.
Here I am, remaining faithful that God has a plan for our good works.
Here I am.