You lead; I'll follow.

So hello, my gentle readers.

I haven't posted anything substantial in a while because my life has been pretty nutso lately. Also, I usually like to scribble my entries in a journal before I post them on here.  It's a tad more emotional and thrilling when I do it that way.  However, I just haven't found the time to sit down and think about anything that I'd might like to post.

I've also been too busy writing letters to the MWIDM, working, and living my secret other life as a ninja.

Anyways.  It's also unfortunate to say that I haven't been reading as much as I like.  And, while I keep buying books (I have a book problem), I really don't get around to reading them much.  Bah!  I'm in the middle of Heretics by Chesterton right now.  I love it.  Orthodoxy  will be next, and then What's Wrong with This World.  Boom

Today I'd like to reflect a little upon an amazing metaphor for the beauty that is courtship.  Everyone really seems to be getting this whole idea WRONG lately.  For example:

http://www.thomasumstattd.com/2014/08/courtship-fundamentally-flawed/

and

http://chastityproject.com/2014/08/rediscovering-courtship/

If it's not flat out disrespect, unbelief in what we're doing, and a general negative attitude, then it's a trite, Pollyannish, unrealistic optimism.

GAH.

So anyways.  At the beginning of this whole ordeal (way back at the end of May (Sts. Rita and Joan of Arc!!) is when it really began.  It didn't officially begin until the feast day of St. Kateri Tekakwitha), I begged God that the man for me would be an amazing leader, a strong leader.  Someone who could not only pull me up out of my crap and challenge me to keep going, but someone who would charitably redirect me if I ever tried to take over.

And he is.  And he does.

Example:  He took me here the other day:

It was like something out of Middle Earth, but with much, much more heat and humidity.

The view from the point, or, in Hobbit speak: Weathertop.  We were up super high after a 2.5 mile hike, part of which was on an unmarked trail.

We were up high enough to be looking down on this gargantuan tree.  Dude.

So anyways.  As we were going in, he would lead the way most of the time.  Sometimes we'd walk side-by-side or pray together on the trail.  Sometimes he wouldn't recognize where the trail was, and I would help by pointing it out to him gently.  The trail was hot, difficult, and suffocating at times, but every time he turned around to look at me, there was a confidence in his eyes that told me he knew I could do it.  And I knew he wouldn't put me in any danger, so I was confident in following through.  If he would go to fast, I'd ask him to slow down a little bit.  If I had trouble getting through a certain point, he'd reach out his hands and help me.

Beautiful.

We had cheese, sausage, and granola bars for lunch.  It was so straight outta CYE, I could have died.  He brought crackers, but we didn't eat them because we both think they're a waste of stomach space.  Bahahaha.  

Then.  The way back again was a bit of a different story.  I don't do well with heat.  I hate being hot.  I get super cranky, whiny, and it's easy for me to quit.

He started leading us out, and about the 3/4 way point, I asked how much longer we had to go.  We started climbing up these huge, rocky paths that made me take giant, knee-high steps.  My legs were shaky, and I felt like I'd never be able to cool off.  I finally stopped dead in my tracks and started crying: "I can't, I just can't."  

I took a gulp of water, and he suggested gently, "why don't you go in front and set the pace then?"

So all I could think about was "oh HELL YES.  I wanna get the frick outta here."  And I started tearing through the forest, all the while not paying attention to how much I was exhausting myself and being inattentive to my surroundings.  I was no longer concerned with anything besides my own desire for self-satisfaction and relief.  I could care less at that point if he was exhausted or keeping up with me or not.  I knew that he could and would, but I didn't care about what he was doing at all.  It was no longer a team effort.  It was all about me.

This lasted for about 5 minutes, when I heard him say something like, "Babe, you need to slow down.  I know you wanna get outta here, but if you keep going like this, you're going to be careless and hurt yourself."

The choleric flared for a split second (which is totally weird that it was that short), but I was actually relieved.  The responsibility was no longer mine.  It wasn't up to me to get us out.  I didn't have to worry about it and kill myself in the process.  So I said, "Ok.  Then why don't you go in front of me."  And he did.  And he led.  And it was back to the same slow and steady pace that we had taken before.  But, instead of being furious about not getting out of there as fast as humanly possible, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace about being protected and honored, as a disgusting, sweaty, and beautiful mess, on a trail in a forest where I had no idea where I was.

It's a perfect metaphor for the spiritual life and for our courtship.  What happens to my relationship with Christ when I try to take control and do everything that centers on what I want?  Nothing.  It goes nowhere fast, and I get hurt in the process.  Similarly, what happens in my relationship when I lead, forget the needs of my beloved, and become intolerably self-centered?  Nothing.  It goes nowhere fast, and I get hurt and hurt others in the process.

So what's the point?  It all comes down to trust.  I have to let go.  I have to let go of the lie that I've been told the majority of my life: that I'm not good enough so I have to prove it.  I have to lead because there's no man out there willing and patient enough to lead me.

Well, the hell with that, because he's found me.  And he's leading us.  And it's the most beautiful and peaceful thing I've ever encountered in my life.  And all I have to do is follow.  That's all I have to do.

I'd like to respond to the two articles that I posted in this entry, but that's for another time.


OUT.