Tuesday, January 22, 2013


My life...

it is so very far from what I had imagined.

And yet, here I am, living it.

I think at certain times during the course of a lifetime, everybody could come to this same realization. It has little to do with level of satisfaction, of goals set, achieved, not realized, or changed. It has everything to do with perspective.

And that is something I think I have gained here. Yes, literally here. Through this blog. Through interactions with all of you. Through my own thoughts, coming from my heart, out my fingers, onto the screen, and back to my brain as I re-read them 5 minutes, 5 days, 5 years later.

Perspective. I used to believe that being a good mother was what I was intended for on this earth. There was no question - it was only a matter of time. I was always in anticipation of that next step... I would literally BEG God to send me my cycles (which, interestingly, started 17 years ago yesterday - and again yesterday as an anniversary gift - be careful what you wish for, I suppose) when I was the last one of my friends to receive it. Of course, there were ulterior motives. Boobs, primarily. Fitting in, secondarily. But I know underlying that anticipation was also the relief, when it finally came, that now I was on my way - to womanhood - and to motherhood.

My anticipation quickly turned to boyfriends. Oh, how I yearned for a boyfriend!! I couldn't wait to be in a relationship, begin forming memories with the man that could one day become my husband and the father of my children. Nothing ever quite passed for a boyfriend in high school, much to my disappointment. And so I waited. And waited. For what felt like an eternity.

And finally, that last hurdle overcome, a boyfriend-turned-fiance - now the ultimate dream was merely a breath away.

Seven years later... here I stand.

And I could so easily discount all of them. So easily look forward and never back, never remember the pain, the sorrow, the incredible suffering that seemed to coarse through my veins with every beat of my broken heart.

But that is not my perspective.

I do not choose to forget. I choose to accept. And in accepting, I accept fully the painful past, the powerful present, and the foreign future. I accept, and I allow it to shape me, to mold my perspective day to day.

There is a saying, and a pop song of the same title:
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger."

No. Not necessarily.

The choice is yours. What doesn't kill you could instead destroy or weaken you. It could persuade you to direct your hope in the wrong place, or to lose it altogether. What doesn't kill you could cause you to live bemoaning the past, while wasting away the present and failing to greet the future with open arms. What doesn't kill you could make you put your life on hold until your dream is realized, and if it ever is, you could miss out on the greatest perspective of all.

But, what doesn't kill you also has the potential to make you the person God always intended you to be.


Julie said...

Great post!!!!!

Rebecca said...

Ah, boobs and fitting in - and how horrible the waiting was. If only my 33 year old self could have a chat with my 11 year old self!

What doesn't kill us might make us "stronger" and yet it is in the dying that we find the glory, that we find the life for which we are intended. Both as we die to self, die to our reality from our dreams, and die literally when our time is up. It is in the fighting what comes our way that we are destroyed, weakened, and left to waste away. Yes, we may be "alive", but we have not lived.

And yes, without the persective I've gained through blogging, I am unaware of this. I am most likely clinging to fear and hoping to just merely survive.

Thank-you for this post today. :)

Anonymous said...

I'm 47 and STILL waiting for the boobs.

Amy @ This Cross I Embrace said...

@Rebecca, Kindly stop sounding more eloquent than I on my blog, thankyou.

@Anon- Meeeeeeee tooooooooooo. Although, look what happened when I prayed for cycles... now, they won't stop coming. Maybe we'll both wake up at 50 with ginormous breasts.

Blessed and Broken said...

Lol anon and Amy.

Amy- beautiful!

Blessed and Broken said...

Lol anon and Amy.

Amy- beautiful!

Suzie-Q T-Pie said...

Great post!!

JellyBelly said...

Amen! Amen! Amen! I don't know why God chose this path for me (and us!), but I'm curious to see where it leads.

Fantastic post!

the misfit said...

Actually, I think it's hormones.

Well, in all seriousness. I don't think it necessarily makes us stronger in the way I once imagined. I think sometimes it's overwhelming enough to leave us shattered even if we're legitimately doing our best. But you can serve God shattered. You can be a saint and looked like a wretched, broken failure. I'm not saying that I am, or that I do. Or that I've suffered worse than other people. But I think I've been pushed close enough to MY unimpressive limits to know that "God only gives you what He knows you can handle" is only true if you define your terms very, very carefully. (God is a better lawyer than I am. I never saw it coming.) I hope for healing for all of us, for peace and joy and wholeness (and sometimes babies, but we know how that works). But I know that not every person who prays for healing will receive it in this life, either.

LifeHopes said...


anne said...

Amen and amen. Beautifully written, and so very true. Thank you for sharing. You inspire prayer and reflection in me whenever I visit your blog. Thank you.

Anonymous said...

Amy, I recently found your blog, and am so glad I did... I am on a similar path. My life hasn't quite turned out the way I thought it would, either, which is a mixed blessing. It's not been so easy to take, regarding motherhood; after quite a few years of marriage, my husband and I have no children. I wanted to let tou know that I appreciate your openness and look forward to your posts. Your insights are so helpful to me.
God bless you!