This Time...I'll Save Myself.

"Sometimes it's the journey that teaches you a lot about your destination."

I’ve been searching for something since I was 12. What is it you ask? I have no clue. Maybe if I could at least envision it I wouldn’t suffer so much in this journey to find it. I mean, is it possible that my search is in vain? That I have spent 16 years searching for what’s in front of me, or what doesn’t exist. Is it at all possible that I am to create what’s missing? Or that I should find it in the Creator, Himself? That I should hide myself under His beautiful wings and rest?

You see, all I’ve done is confuse myself more than previously. It’s like this endless cycle of searching for that “thing,” not finding it, and wondering if it exists at all. I’ve looked to my parents for it, my most favorite cousins, and then my friends. I’ve slept in the pews, I’ve laid my burdens on the tear stained royal carpet that covers the altar, and I’ve trusted in church leadership to point me in the right direction. Even then, I walk away more confused than I was when I was 12 years old and I sat next to my mom as she mourned the loss of her marriage. I am more lost than when I was 20 years old eating peanut butter crackers and paying for college without my next meal in sight. How might I grab ahold of what’s missing when I see it if I am not even sure what to look for?

Just to be clear, I am not hard to please. I find joy in my morning coffee that my mom wakes me up with just because. A buck teeth smile covers my face when my iTunes playlist meets the requirements of my spirit on my bumper to bumper traffic filled Tuesdays.

So, I was thinking, what if my search is within. The distance that occurred between my father and I when he ended his marriage has never healed. The friend that I had, that same year that my dad left, that played on my weaknesses still visits me in my dreams. The boy that I loved almost 3 years ago, who never loved me back, is currently haunting my caring for MY heart in the arms of someone else. So, what if my search is endless until I search for the love that I gave away so freely and never received in return.

I don’t know. All of these “what ifs” and when I end this open letter to myself, I’ll still be searching. I’ll still be lost. Waiting for someone to save me. Or…maybe…just maybe…this time I will save myself.