Almost Normal

When I sat down to write tonight, I sat down with the intention of writing something heart wrenching, honest, and ranting.

That's not what happened, though.

When I started typing, all of the angry words just vanished. All of the wailings and curses I had prepared just... weren't there.

Life isn't always fair. That's just how it is. God puts us through trials, and all we can do is weather those trials and stay firm in his word.

This time, my trials come in the form of divorce.

Divorce.

Gosh, I hate that word. That word only leads to bad things. But even now, in the middle of the bad things, I have peace.

Sure, I have tears, but sitting here and feeling sorry for myself isn't gonna help any. I'm not saying we shouldn't cry - the term "having a good cry" doesn't exist for no reason.

The Bible says that everything in life has a season.

My life is in winter currently - but after winter comes spring.

Everything is going to be OK. The snow will melt, the skies will clear, and the sun will shine again. But only if I don't let the storms take me. (Funny thing: when I was typing this, it kept autocorrecting to "storks". So, sure. I'm not going to let the storks take me.)

Falling to grief and despair is what got me here in the first place - caving to it again sure as heck isn't gonna get me out. Only God can do that.

When I write, I invest a little piece of myself into the story.

A dash of my fear of old people into "How a Frying Pan Ruined My Life".

A bit of the person I want to be - brave, caring, and just - into Nyx.

A sprinkle of my curiosity and love for the natural world into Mina.

My dark sense of humor into Rachel J. Walker.

A heaping bucket load of my failed attempts at comedy into "Paper Butterflies - an Autobiography".

My love for mythology with a side of vengeance in the narrative voice of Arachne.

For all the little pieces of myself that I've tucked into my stories, I've never just dumped my heart out on paper before. To be honest, I'm not quite sure how to.

I am not an emotional person. I am rather awkward instead. At our dance recitals, when the seniors graduate everyone is hugging and crying - while I usually stand off to the side and awkwardly pat the back of anyone who happens to drift my way.

Sometimes, having friends can be scary. How can someone who really knows you still like you? It is much easier to just rant to random internet people who know nothing but what you choose to tell them (ahem, ratting myself out here).

When I talk to my friends about the bad things, I feel so exposed and vulnerable. It isn't their fault - I know they aren't trying to make me feel like a trapped rabbit, but that's just how it is.

I don't blame God for anything.

A few months ago, I would have. I would have screamed and yelled at him and been too stubborn to listen to anything he was trying to tell me.

It is like Pasquinel says: "We only understand what we want to understand."

I don't agree with some of the things in Centennial, but what I love (and hate) about it is that everything is always changing.

Because that's how real life is.

Everything can change in a heartbeat - and if you don't have your feet anchored in Christ, what can you hold on to?

Nothing.

Just like in Centennial, people come into our lives for however long a time, and then they leave again.

Really, I don't know how I feel. I'm not angry, not surprised... I just am.

And I'm not looking for pity, either. I hate getting a ton of attention. I even hate opening presents on my birthday, with everyone watching me and all. Weird coming from a performer. Dang, I am just the weirdest mix of introvert and extrovert that I know. I guess its a good thing that there's only one of me - ha!

There are so many kids that never even knew their parents, or only grew up with one - they have it so much worse. I was lucky enough to make it this far with both parents.

I'm not saying that it is normal or OK - but unfortunately it is almost normal.

Almost normal.

That describes most of my life.

I grew up in an almost normal church.

I have an almost normal family.

I live in an almost normal town.

I myself am almost normal, really. (Ok, fine, like one eighths normal.)

Some might say that I am being unnaturally positive, but I disagree.

God has given me peace. Even in the struggles, I know that God has a plan for me yet.

I don't know what this story is about. It isn't really sad, it isn't happy. It isn't exactly creative nonfiction. Oh, how I wish I could say it was fiction.

Then all you lovely people could go, "Oh, Charis, great story. It was really well written but there were a few grammar mistakes. This inspired me."

You guys are too kind.

It isn't fiction, though. It is just life. It isn't how it should be, but its how it is.

Well, I guess I'm done trying to pour myself out onto paper. I don't know who would read this, but I haven't written something in days and my fingers needed to type a story.

I guess you could say that the moral of the story is this: Even when everything seems dark, God has a plan, and he sees you, and he hears you.

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope."

Jeremiah 29:11