Robot or Dreamer?

People skills. Is that all my family cares about these days?

I was having a perfectly wonderful day today: slept in, got a shower, sat out in the sun with a pen and paper, and basically figured out what I want to do with my life. Then I bounce into the house, ready to tell my favorite person on earth just what my wonderful plans are, and he says: “Well, first you’d need people skills.”
I don’t know why they think I don’t have people skills. When they aren’t around I can handle myself just fine. When I’m forced to be independent I can manage on my own. And when I’m following my dream, doing something I’m passionate about, I can do incredible things.
It’s only when I’m forced to get close to someone that things start falling apart. It’s then that I feel I have to put on a mask to protect the relationship in the long run, to make it last. I continuously hurt those closest to me.
I feel like Elsa today. My brother was only trying to help, to make things better, but while I was trying to save him from myself, I ended up hurting him even more. At first I just asked him to go away, told him that I needed to think for a bit. But as he persisted to knock, I soon found myself screaming at him to leave me alone. Then he did. And I do believe it hurt me more than it hurt him.

Alright, maybe I don’t have people skills. Maybe I stink at communication. But I don’t want to. I want to change, to show my real self to the people who have been watching my mask for so long. But it’s not that easy. I can’t be completely open to anyone. I can’t. People get hurt when there is nothing hidden. Then again, people get hurt when something is hidden, too. But who can I trust? Who will love me even when they know my most foolish fantasies? Who will support me in chasing those fantasies? No one. There is always some layer of criticism, always something they don’t agree with. And maybe they’re right. Maybe I should give up all my hopes and dreams, and simply be a stay-at-home missionary mom. But that seems so lame (no offense). If I surrender myself to that life, I’m afraid I will have nothing to work for, no challenge, no goal. Is that how life is supposed to be? Am I simply supposed to lay myself down and surrender to fate? Am I not encouraged to find something to be passionate about and to chase it? I guess some people find their complete passion in just day-to-day living, and ministering to those they come in contact with then. Some people are wholly satisfied by that. I cannot be. I need something else, something creative and unique, something beautiful to work towards. For me it is that castle, that party venue, that worldly dream. Am I not permitted to be human? Am I not permitted to have a secret joy? Then tell me: must I be a robot? A monotonous copy of a Christian? I think not.

A T-junction in my life’s path

Hear Ye, hear Ye; Here follows the ramblings of an almost-15-year-old girl:
Gowns. Dances. Charming princes, Lords and Ladies. Evenings never to be forgotten, evenings spent in the company of mannered folk.
On the other side of life – Rags. Campfires. Friends and family, a loyal dog. Evenings never to be forgotten, evenings spent in the company of the sick and dying.
Which side to choose? There is nothing in this world that I want more than to be a real-life princess, to dress in gowns and host balls. To build my own castle, and to live the luxurious life. I argue that I want to use it to teach young girls about their inner princess, and about the Prince waiting for them, but a voice nudges the back of my mind, reminding me that I would choose this life out of selfish desires and dreams. Another part of me, a part buried deep and often forgotten and ignored, screams that I want to go out and minister to the lost, sick, weak and needy. My human desires fight back: can there not be a compromise? Can I not have the castle and tiaras and gowns, and at the same time minister to the least of these? Can I not bring the poor into the castle and spoil them for a while? Any simple logic tells this cannot be so. How could I live this hypocritical life; the life with two sides? But then, what is the answer? What is the answer? Can anyone answer me? Can anyone know what is right for my personal life. It is said that the rich and famous need Christ too, and their children especially. This creates my excuse for building my castle and ministering to them. But it would make it all the harder to fight the temptations of this world. I feel that working as a rural missionary might be easier in certain aspects. That thrusting myself so drastically and noticeably out of my comfort zone would force me to lean more upon my Savior. And it would. But could I be strong enough to do the same being surrounded by those whom have heard the gospel and turned a deaf ear? Both ways have equal benefits and equal struggles, the only problem is finding out which path my LORD would have me pursue. I feel more guilt in following my dream, although I fear I will not be satisfied in any direction I follow. I realize this falls somewhat because of my weakened relationship with my Creator. I tend to think and meditate on these things alone, when in all reality I know I cannot discover the answer without searching it out at God’s feet. This is merely the struggle between my stubbornness and my salvation.
If only everything were clear. If only the guide plan for our life was written out in simple steps with the consequences of the wrong choices in warning. But how can I find peace with myself while still “following my dream” as most people insist upon these days? Must I find a way to add my dream into God’s will for me? Must I pray that my dream IS God’s will for me? Must I discard my own dreams completely and simply accept the drastic and radical choice instead? If only there was a clear answer. If only thinking didn’t tear my heart in two so. If only I had no foolish dream of my own except to please Christ to the fullest. He did not chase fantasies, did He? His sole mission was for that of God. Ultimate love.
Alright, enough ramblings for now. If only the LORD replied in writing…