To Pray Without Ceasing

Make lemonade? Paint that shit gold? Who even knows anymore.

Summer has barely started, and I’m keeping my promises thus far. Working out every day, praying or attending daily Mass (sometimes both, if my alarm clock wills it), fostering new relationships with my new co-workers, attending free concerts and movie premiers thanks to my friend who works at a radio station…

So where’s the lemon?

Have you ever watched a movie, and realized that it hits a lot closer to home than you thought was possible? Thanks to (500) Days of Summer, I’ve met a character that shares my mentality when it comes to love. Don’t get me wrong, just like any twenty-year-old girl that grew up watching Disney movies, I’m waiting for the right tall, dark, and handsome man to come sweeping into my life… the valiant steed is optional.

Until then, I’ve got Alejandro (and no, that’s not his real name, I just love that Lady Gaga song). This guy’s got the heart of a champion, and wants to fall in love. He’s patient, loyal, and a good six inches taller than me (which is a superfluous plus in my book). Me? I’m starting to see the signs that he’s all wrong for me. Yeah, he’s not Catholic. That’s our first red flag. The second? He’s kind of paranoid… and that’s not for lack of a better word, that’s just the way he is… Which reminds me of my father. That’s a whole other iceberg I’ll have to deal with.

Here’s the best part… I have yet to develop the bitch in me. I can’t say “Thanks, but no thanks, Alejandro… you’re just not the guy for me.” I think it’s all of those years of platonic friendships with men that have caused me to want to hold on to this one. He’s obviously interested, and I’m attracted to him, so where’s the wrong in that?

Oh right, I only date for marriage, and I’m marrying (if God wills it) a Catholic.

Why is it that I can write all of this down, but can’t say it to his face? I’m not out to break hearts here…

When I prayed about it, every option made me cry. I cried in that chapel for almost an hour… I ask and beg and plead for answers, but when they come, I’m mortified to hear what He has to say, what He has planned. Why do I harbor this fear for His plan for me? I know my God is not malicious, jealous, hateful… so why should I fear His plans for my life? As I sat in that chapel, I didn’t want to leave. I felt trapped by Alejandro… scared to face him. I couldn’t look Jesus in the face either, scared to hear how He wanted my life for Him and His plan. Under all of this, the guy I really want… it became clear that he might never be mine.

And what then?

When life gives you lemons… paint that shit gold.

In Christ,

Liv