My Love

After 12 years, my world has changed today.

I put my dog, Basil, to sleep.

Even typing those words is killing me, and I feel like my heart is literally breaking into pieces. These past few weeks, while fighting some type of infection, he just stopped eating, and at the end, he was literally skin, fur, and bones. As I type this, he is laying in the backseat of my car wrapped in a blanket. I don't know why I thought I would be able to bury him. I did want him near me, but I don't know what I was thinking. I'm not that strong. All I want to do is tuck him into bed and cover him with a blanket, not put him in the cold ground with dirt. I have grieved him several times over the past several weeks, months, and years, even; but, somehow, it was never real before today saying the words out loud.

To those who think I'm over-reacting and that he's "just a dog", you have to understand what Basil was to me and my life pre-Basil:

I was closed-off; Basil opened my heart.
I fought depression: Basil was my therapist.
I didn't believe in love; Basil was my 1st experience at unconditional love.
I doubted God; Basil showed me God was taking care of me.
I got stressed out; Basil would sit with me through the stress until I relaxed.
I feared intimacy; Basil taught me to trust.
I got sad and angry; Basil was always happy.
I worried about the future; Basil taught me to live each day individually and fully.
I don't make friends easily; Basil never met a stranger and only growled at 1 person in his entire life.
I had no friends; Basil was always my best friend without me having to earn it.
I didn't want to cry in front of anyone; Basil would let me hug him and cry on his shoulder however long I needed.
I have social anxiety; Basil didn't need to be entertained as long as he was around me.
I became angry with him when he ate a loaf of bread of the counter; Basil loved me anyway.
I came home from work after hours of neglecting him; Basil always wagged his tail and brought a toy to me at the door.
I didn't like asking for help; Basil knew when I needed him and when he could go elsewhere.
I didn't like yappy dogs; Basil only barked when he was looking at a squirrel in the tree thinking it was going to fall into his mouth.
I got scared to get out of my comfort zone; Basil was always up for an adventure.
I didn't trust men; Basil was oftentimes the only male I felt I could count on.
I kept lots of secrets; Basil would listen to me talk for hours and never interrupt or judge me.
I was not active; Basil was always ready for a walk or to play with his beloved tennis ball.
I kept myself isolated; Basil made me have to think about someone other than myself.

Basil was my best friend, my soul-dog, my teacher, my pillow, my emotional support, my best hugging partner, my sleeping buddy, my hiking companion, my movie watcher, my comic relief, my grooming experiment, my secret keeper, my child, my travel partner, my road warrior, yes, sometimes even my idol, and so much more than I cannot even begin to remember at this point.

I think Basil took better care of me than I did of him. God knew exactly what I needed in February 2002 when I took a random trip to the Murfreesboro Animal Shelter. Amongst all the yappers was an adorable, black 10-week old puppy incorrectly(and divinely)labeled a Newfoundland mix. Our eyes connected, and that was it.

I know there will be other dogs, and I love Laika and Pepper, but there will never be another Basil for me.

Marathons

True commitment seems like a rare thing these days. With so many options available and everyone wanting an instant, get-rich/thin/famous-quick life story, the appeal of endurance has slightly lost its luster.  People are reluctant to get involved or stick things out past the rough patches. Jobs are changed every couple of years, romantic relationships are exchanged every couple of months when it "didn't work out", and friends are lost by the wayside as people migrate to other cities, states, and sometimes even countries.

When you are placed into a psychiatric institution("mental ward"), you are "committed", and maybe commitment is a little crazy. It does take some nerves, dedication, and oftentimes, idiocy to be dedicated to something so devoutly. It is the opposite of sanity, occasionally, when everything inside you is telling you to get out and you ignore that and dive right back into the midst of the battle.

With promises being so important to me, you would think commitment would be very important to me. And, it is, BUT... I am commitment-phobic. That's right. I'm putting it out there. I stress myself out so much, that I rarely try things in case they fail. Yep, I plan on failing from the start. The funny thing is that I am much better at being committed to other people's problems than my own. I am one of the best sideline cheerleaders you'll ever meet, and while I do get some sort of pleasure and satisfaction about helping others with bettering their lives, it is really more of a distraction/avoidance technique for me. If I'm focusing on others, I don't need to look at what I need to improve.

My introspective self swings like a pendulum. On one end, I know myself and my insecurities, strengths, coping mechanisms, etc. On the other end, I put on blinders and become oblivious and stagnant in my personal, and sometimes spiritual, life. It isn't until someone removes the mud from my eyes that I realize where I've ended up.

I find this all somewhat amusing because, despite my commitment phobia issues, I really am more of an endurance/in-it-for-the-longer-haul kind of person. My sister was always the one that had the spark and the bright, shiny packaging, while I meld into the background, like a slow-burning ember in the fire. She was the show-quality Poodle or Thoroughbred race horse, while I was the mutt or the wild mustang, whom nobody gave a second glance. It used to bother me a lot, but while the thoughts of feeling lesser have not disappeared, they have slightly diminished. I realize that, while there are people that will prefer that type of person, there are others who are more "my type" of friends and colleagues.

I am surprised sometimes that I have remained Orthodox this long. Not because I don't love the church or because I have doubts, but because it has required lots of commitment. Some of the spiritual struggles have been difficult, and there have been several times where I have debated the validity and the point of it all and considered throwing in the towel. But, much like any personal relationship, I find myself empty and missing without it. I'll admit there are times I do just coast along without doing any real spiritual healing or diagnosing, but the majority of the time, Orthodoxy fills the majority of my soul, with personal relationships, work, and various other parts of life, filling in the rest.

Would I say I am committed to God? I would like to say yes, but the truth is, I really have no idea. It's easy to say in a time period where words mean nothing and persecution is not blatant, but if it came down to me losing my head or spending time in jail? I can't honestly be sure, and that just makes me sad. God is committed to ME and my salvation; why can't I be the same to Him?
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Love Alone is Worth the Fight - Switchfoot

I'm trying to find where my place is
I'm looking for my own oasis
So close I can taste this
The fear that love alone erases

So I'm back to the basics
I figure it's time I face this
Time to take my own advice

Love alone is worth the fight
Love alone is worth the fight

And I never thought it'd come to this
But it seems like I'm finally feeling numb to this
The funny thing about a name is
You forget what the reason you were playing the game is

And it's all an illusion
A 21st century institution
So I'm headed down the open road unknown

And we find what we're made of
Through the open door
Is it fear you're afraid of?
What are you waiting for?

Love alone is worth the fight
Love alone is worth the fight

We're only here for a season
I'm looking for the rhyme and reason
Why you're born, why you're leaving
What you fear and what you believe in

Why you're living and breathing
Why you're fighting it and getting it even
Let's go headed down the open road unknown

And we find what we're made of
Through the open door
Is it fear you're afraid of?
What are you waiting for?

Love alone is worth the fight
Love alone is worth the fight

Atalanta (or Tortoise vs. the Hare Pt. 2)

No, I did not misspell the largest city in Georgia.

When I was little, I had a board game called By Jove, in which I learned about a woman in Greek mythology, which has always fascinated me. Like St. Katherine, she was an anomaly of her time as a strong woman. Atalanta told her father that she would only marry someone who could best her. Her focus, though, was in the physical realm. I am not sure why this particular story fascinated me so much. In both instances, the women did not settle for the status quo or merely accept their fate.

Patience is often considered a weakness. This is clearly not the case. In a world where we are often called to action or advised to "Go, go, go!", it can be extremely difficult to be patient. In the Christmas story, several people are asked to wait on God: Joachim and Anna, Joseph and Mary, and Simeon. It takes strong faith to be able to say, "God, here are my troubles, although You already know them. I lay them at the foot of Your cross and accept Your will for my life," and then move on and NOT think or worry about them anymore. I do not have this kind of faith.

I've been recently thinking about how much I tend to idolize people, relationships, and marriage. In my feeble understanding of God, I think it's probable that He provided the family I had so that I would NOT be as attached to this world more than I already am. Struggling against your passions is NOT an easy thing. It is very exhausting and draining mentally, and it isn't just 1 battle. It's war! I don't even pretend to be good at this. Sometimes, sadly, I don't even attempt to fight.

I talk about not wanting to be in control, but as someone pointed out to me recently(much to my chagrin), I am a VERY critical person–about almost anything. I don't mean to be, obviously, and it's almost a knee-jerk reaction. If I had to pinpoint a New Year's resolution, mine would be to only have nice things come out of my mouth. I love my friends, and it hurts me to think that I hurt them. As hard as I am on things and people around me, I am that much more critical of myself and my self-perceived imperfections.

In considering what the next 12 months will bring, it does take a lot of patience, which we've already determined I don't really have, to take each day at a time. Usually, God has to drag me kicking down some new path that looks a bit too hazy and foggy for me. I still find myself wanting to be a Christian on MY terms, not according to God's tenets. Lifelong battle, I'm afraid. Sorry, God... I have changed my mindset on some relationships, what I want in my personal life and family, and I have finally accepted that God accepts ME, no matter what I do. Since His love is not earned, it cannot be un-earned. Thank God for Divine Grace!

What do I want for 2014? At this point, honestly, I'm not sure. There are several different paths I could go, and I have a very bad habit of biting off more than I can chew. The best PC answer would be to work on my relationship with God and make that the focus of my every day thoughts and activities. The more honest answer is probably just to be happy–not that this is a bad thing; it's just not the goal of a Christ-centered life.
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Keep Making Me - Sidewalk Prophets

Make me broken
So I can be healed
‘Cause I’m so calloused
And now I can’t feel
I want to run to You
With heart wide open
Make me broken

Make empty
So I can be filled
‘Cause I’m still holding
Onto my will
And I’m completed
When you are with me
Make me empty

[Chorus:]
‘Til You are my one desire
‘Til You are my one true love
‘Til You are my breath, my everything
Lord, please keep making me

Make me lonely
So I can be Yours
‘Til I want no one
More than You, Lord
‘Cause in the darkness
I know You will hold me
Make me lonely