One night I pulled over to the side of the road on my way home. It was dark out, probably around 10:15 pm. I pulled over for a number of reasons: I was crying. I couldn't focus. I couldn't stop crying. I needed to calm down. I needed to focus. I needed to pray. I needed to hear anything from anyone.
But I knew who to call, and I called them. Whoever they are isn't really the deal, but I am very, very grateful to the people whom I call when I'm in crisis. The particular people that I called this night I was not expecting an answer. Not because they're mean or rude, unreliable or a judge of bad character, but because they're busy and a family, and I respect their time and schedules. Just because people get busy and schedules get hectic doesn't mean that I don't still call them when I'm having a hard time.
And amazingly, they picked up. Not only did they pick up, but they offered to get in their car and drive to the other side of the city where I was (a twenty plus minute route, I'm sure) and find me.
I knew instantly I had called the right people.
They guided me in the conversation, let me talk, and gave feedback when needed. The thing I enjoy most about these particular people is that they understand me in a sense where I can just listen to them talk and that's ok. I don't have to do all the talking. It's comforting just to listen to people who know you, you know?
Why am I blogging about this?
Because they asked me something. After hearing my story and my thoughts, feeding back here and there, and stating that they clearly understood, they asked me to evaluate and take time to think about a
question: "Tab, what do you want?"
I stopped for a moment. "What?" I asked. They repeated the question.
I took a moment to think and then quickly stuttered: "I don't know. Honestly, I really don't know."
I think that a lot of times I take what other people say so seriously, so close to my heart if they are close to my heart, that what they think about my life becomes what I think about my life. It's not bad. These people are wise. I trust these people who I allow myself to listen to, but at the same time what I was reminded of in this conversation is at the end of the day, at the end of my life, it's my life. I'm the one who lived it the way that I did.
No one else.
This is my life. I choose to give that life to God, but God also chooses to let me live it out.
I'm not saying to go out and make bad choices and justify it by saying it's your life to live, I'm simply mentioning this story to you because I forgot for a while that the life I'm living is the one that God gave to me for me to live. I will held accountable for it. You can't let everyone's opinions become your opinion.
I have a brain too. Honestly, I know it's in there somewhere. I can think too.
I think I might need to start forming my own opinion about my life.
What a statement.