Questionable

     I look at love a little bit differently now.

     With a bit more awe and wonder.

     And with a bit more soberness.

     It exists. And it costs us something.

     And in the spending, we learn to love.

     And yes, this is seemingly the goal.

     The most pressing thing I want to mention, is of course this landscape of relationships. How men and women interact and how we, in the midst of our insecurities and failures find the very soul that looks us in our eyes and endeavors to understand us and embrace the mystery.

     Love.

     It doesn’t need to be so complicated.

     But again, I find myself looking with side eyes at some of those romantic relationships around me, like, “Hmm, I don’t believe you. “

     I don’t believe the narrative that you are projecting is actually the narrative you are living.

     Love.

     It doesn’t need to be so complicated.

     Arguments will come.

     There are disagreements to be had.

     But yo, how do you ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ to your own heart.

     How do you throw a flag on that play?

     Something’s amiss.

     But instead, we’ll choose to be a coward and lie to ourselves, when we already know the truth.

     Love is held by the courageous.

     Wait, let me go back a beat.

     I relate to being a coward. I’ve been there many times. I’d convinced myself that I had to grab the one in front of me for fear there would never be another person like him on the planet.

     Which is partially true. He holds his own fingerprints.

     But he didn’t fit in my heart.

     It’s taken a proper year to realize and accept that.

     But meanwhile, as I’ve let go of what seemed to be my long lost awaited promise, more questions would arise.

     And more marriages would happen around me.

     And more love would begin to bloom.

     And of course, I hear more comments like, “Whaaat, you want to wait until you’re in your 30s until you get married and have babies?? I never want to have to wait that long…when I’m that old….”

     And I start to question everything.

     Or at least those things that are still questionable at my age and at this stage of the game.

     Not my worth but rather my answers.

     But real talk, I can’t help but think love is still so much more steadfast than what I had first imagined.

     And there’s no need to lie to myself.

     My resolve is sure.

     Love.

     For you and for me, it won’t be so complicated.

     But indeed, rather likeable and unshakeable.

Wisdom’s knocking:

“Above all, don't lie to yourself. The man who lies to himself and listens to his own lie comes to a point that he cannot distinguish the truth within him, or around him, and so loses all respect for himself and for others. And having no respect he ceases to love.” 

― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

Here Comes the Sun

     It’s funny how a sunrise looks like a sunset.

     The soft warm light beckoning a new beginning, or declaring the end of an accomplished day.

     There’s been so many phone calls, visits, and tears.

     I was in the parking lot, ready to put on the cowboy boots that my father bought me less than a year ago.

    His love of all things western and John Wayne finally rubbed off on me, some 20 years later.

     It’s intriguing how we inherit things, mostly unintentionally, but profound nonetheless.

     And in the midst, a story of love is being told.

     On the other end of the phone, was the voice of my mother, abnormally shaky, but very direct and strong.

     A heart attack on the plane. An emergency landing. It didn’t look good.

     We prayed.

     And I remember that prayer.

     “God, if this is your time for him, give us Your peace, but please, if it is not, breathe your resurrection power into his body.”

     And moments later, he was gone.

     And the wind was knocked out of me.

     I was still sitting in the parking lot. I looked around for help. Tears streaming down my face.

     My mom in Arizona with my father, and me nowhere close.

     And yet, in the midst of my shock and crying, I felt a deep-seated peace.

     I cannot explain it.

     But it’s still present.

     So are the tears. But this peace.

     It’s incredible.

     And if I told you all the ways in which I’ve been able to witness first hand the kindness and timing of God in the midst of this enormous heartbreak, your heart would begin to soften, and your soul hopefully encouraged.

     How my dad was able to visit his home town just days prior and take care of the last wishes of his mother. How he told my mother in a passing conversation how and where he’d like to be buried with new revelatory detail.

     How my dad had just secured all of his wishes for his family that would be left behind, if something were to happen to him.

     How my dad was able to stay by the beach (his favorite place on earth) for a few days with my mom, prior to them celebrating their 31st wedding anniversary. (They had been flying back from this trip).

     How the plane in which my parents were flying on, had 4 distinct medical personnel (Heart doctor, nurses, surgeon…), simply traveling as civilian passengers that were able to work on my dad while they were in the air.

     How two of my parents’ best friends happen to be traveling on the same flight that my dad had the heart attack on, and how those 2 best friends ran off the plane with my mom, with no hesitation--So when my mom heard the official news at the hospital in a different state, she wasn’t alone.

     How one of my best friends, who lives in Arizona and close to the hospital was able to meet my stranded mom and her friends and take them all in for the night. And the following day, help my mom with necessary (and not-so-fun) logistics the day after.

     And how my dad left a legacy of love spanning the generations.

     The words that people have to say about my father are breathtaking.

     I’m so very proud of him.

     So proud.

     He was one that was never afraid of death. His heart was always in a place that was surrendered to God. He trusted God’s timing with such things.

     I hope to have his courage one day.

     He was a man’s man, with such a tender heart. A black cowboy at heart and a Florida country boy to the core, an adventurer, an explorer, full of eccentric life experience, a builder, a mechanic, a lover of Jesus, a gentleman, a music lover, a classic film lover, a giver, never met a stranger, a natural mentor, a coach, and the one that would speak so confidently of the amazing future I would have with my future husband as I take on the world of my dreams.

     He never doubted in my future.  Ever. And he ‘understood’ my unique temperaments and me like very few, because he too grew up as an only child.

     My parents still live in the same neighborhood I grew up in. And they know most of the neighbors quite well.

     So much so, that when I went to our 4 closest neighbors to break the news about my father, almost everyone broke into tears and grabbed me wholeheartedly. We are talking about grown folks here, including men.

     I once grumbled when I felt God calling me back to live with my parents, in the midst of me trying to adult and have a career. But I let go of pride, and what I thought would only end up being one year, ended up being almost 4 years.

     And now, I’m so humbled and grateful for those tender years.

     I was able to be present with both of my parents as an adult in ways that I had not experienced as a young girl. The conversations we would have, the dinners, the arguments, the laughter.  So rich.

     I look back and know without a shadow of a doubt, it was all worth it.

     And now I better understand the timing of God and how it pertains to, and often revolves around our cherished relationships.

     Even when I moved away, I felt a stirring in my heart to be intentional seeing and spending time with my parents. And I did. I’ll be forever grateful to God for opening my eyes and my heart to the importance of true family, and that time is the currency that not even kings can make more of.

     There are always more words you’ll want to say, more wisdom to glean, more hugs you'll want to get, and of course, I wanted my dad to see the grandkids he joked about spoiling rotten on sugar highs at his house, only to send them back to me like crazed little monkeys.

     But there is not a gaping whole of lost time and regret in my heart. And I think that would have been far worse than the pain of grief on its own.

     In the midst of my deep grief last week, something very beautiful happened.

     The 16 year old son of our neighbor had a dream of my dad. And my dad said some specific things to him in this dream.

     Now this 16 year old had never had a dream like this in his life, so he was a bit freaked out by the whole ordeal, but his mom felt led to come to my parent’s house to share the dream with my mom and I.

     And when she did, my mom and I both smiled. It was exactly something my dad would say.

     Talk about the kindness of God.

     As I process grief in all its complexity, I cannot ignore the beauty and presence of God in the midst, and I cling to Him.

     I weep.

     And I cling.

     This is unlike anything I’ve ever walked through before.

     But if I can share one major thing I’m learning, it’s this. I want to cut past the bull and love people more, with greater authenticity, vulnerability, courage, and hope.

     The current cultural rhetoric is a bit jarring in contrast to the tenderness I feel in losing my papa.

     Because everything seems secondary to love. Everything.

     And we only have a set time to do this love thing in.

     So you can count on me giving you more awkward long hugs, kisses, gazes into your eyes, and just wanting to sit with you to hear your heart, or simply do nothing but be together.

     Because yes, the sun has set.

     And in this current climate, I so greatly miss the light and warmth of such a star, but as I sit through these hours of the night, I know that it’s only a matter of time until the sun, in all its hope and promise will, in great boldness, eventually appear.

Wisdom’s Knocking:

"You can play the game and you can act out the part,
Though you know it wasn't written for you.
Tell me, how can you stand there with your broken heart, ashamed of playing the fool?

One thing can lead to another; it doesn't take any sacrifice.
Oh, father and mother, sister and brother, if it feels nice, don't think twice,

Just shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel.
Things are gonna work out fine if you only will do as I say,

Shower the people you love with love, show them the way you feel.
Things are gonna be much better if you only will.

You can run but you cannot hide, this is widely known.
What you plan to do with your foolish pride

When you're all by yourself, alone.
Once you tell somebody the way that you feel, you can feel it beginning to ease.
I think it's true what they say about the squeaky wheel always getting the grease.

Better to shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel.
I know things are gonna be just fine if you only will what I'd like to do to you.
Shower the people you love with love, show them the way you feel.
Things are gonna be much better if you only will.

Shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel

Shower the people you love with love, show them the way that you feel.
They say in every life, they say the rain must fall, just like the pouring rain, make it rain.

Make it rain, love, love, love is sunshine, oh yes,
Make it rain, love, love, love is sunshine. Alright.

Everybody, everybody."

-- "Shower the People" - James Taylor

When I Was Afraid

     There’s been so many reasons as of late to be afraid.

     Of the world, getting older, time passing too quickly, time not passing fast enough, cruel people, and everything and everyone constantly being in a state of change.

     I’ve written about three blog posts to you, that I couldn’t quite finish…

     I was angry. And impatient.

     And those two combinations never quite work well for a writer. A craft that constantly proves to be a labor of love, and in many ways my saving grace.

     But I used to be afraid of hard conversations.

     And it seems that in this season of my life, all I do is have hard conversations.

     Those conversations that cause your throat to tense up just enough to confirm to the rest of your body that you hate this moment.

     Hard conversations with loved ones, with friends, with co-workers, and sometimes even with strangers.

     In the end, we all just want to be understood.

     Which makes these hard conversations all the worse. Because hard conversations begin with the preface that neither is understood by the other, and the battle to find common ground begins.

     But I’m determined to find the common ground.

     That place where you and I can meet.

     And not just meet, but see.

     And not just see, but learn.

     And not just learn, but understand.

     It’s been quite the test to not live in a land of theories only, but to let the truth and beauty of hard conversations exist, but to allow my heart to remain soft, engaged, and open.

     To not run away, to not be afraid.

     There’s something beautiful and brave to be gained in this place.

     And as I glance over my shoulder, looking back at the woman I used to be, I softly turn my head forward to embrace the woman I am becoming.

     It feels good…to not be afraid.

     And I feel hopeful…in learning that love is strong, love is consistent, and love will find its way to you, even in the bleakest of moments and places.

     Because you and I were made for mountaintops.

     And we learn to reach those mountaintops, often by a steep and arduous climb. Yes, those things that scare the crap out of us, but in the end--are the making of us.

     And yes, I feel myself being made in this season of my life.

     Things are changing.

     And undoubtedly, the view looks so much different from here.

Wisdom’s Knocking:

“I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.”

-Louisa May Alcott (“Little Women”)

When Things Don’t Play Out As They Should:

     We all have a preconceived way of how we think our life, our love, our dreams should play out.

     But often these things never play out as imagined. There is always some disconnect.

     I used to get frustrated and throw tantrums with the disconnect.

     Like: “God, why would you tell me to dream if these dreams never come out as planned anyway??”

     But then God would simply reminded me, in only the way that He can:

     But who’s story are you trying to tell, Patrice?

      Who gave you the dreams to begin with?

      Who’s responsibility is it to make these dreams come fully to pass?

      And like a beautiful dance, I’ve invited you to partner with Me, not to lead Me, but to follow.

     I fear we often feel entitled.

     Which is funny for me to say, since I call myself angered and embittered by “entitled” people of all walks of life.

     But alas, there is something of a spec, or rather a log in my own eye as well.

     But we do—we feel entitled most of the time.

     As if something is always owed to us, because something went awry or something went wrong against our favor.

     Or in other cases, we feel as though our lives are marked by a streak of bad luck. In which case, makes trusting anyone almost unbearable.

     Nevertheless.

     “I’ve invited you to partner with me, not to lead me, but to follow…”

     That feels and looks like something.

     Yes, a heart open to love, hard work, and discipline; and also a sense of submission and surrender, otherwise known as obedience to what you know God is asking of you in your life.

     I know, I KNOW.

     Nobody likes to hear that word obedience.

     It makes me tense up just to write it.

     But Jesus marks true love, not simply by worship and adoration, or acknowledgement of God in our lives, but by obedience.

     “If you’ll do what I command…” Ask of, inquire of…

     That is the ultimate true display of love and trust.

     This also marks a sense of true friendship with God; a friendship brimming with love, peace and a sense of security as we journey in life. John 15:12-15 reminds us of this.

     Patrice, will you not act thirsty when you see a handsome looking guy with a New Zealand accent and piercing eyes.

     Me: But let me try to holla right quick.

     Patrice, will you trust Me.

     Me: I totally do.

     I mean, isn’t that the reason why he's standing right in front of me this very moment?? Didn’t YOU bring him into my life for such a time as this! Don’t worry. I got this handled! Thank you. K. Bye.

     Insert: My own demise. My very cinematic crash and burn.

     A year seemingly wasted playing games, mainly with my own emotions. And reaping the sour benefits of a romantic choice void of God’s intent and initial direction.

     Simply because I refused to trust and believe that God wanted to do so much more for my own love story and life.

     That’s what my own distrust and defiance looked like.

     But here’s the real beauty.

     With my body on the ground and my face in mud--It was in that place, that I simply whispered, “I’m sorry...I can’t do this anymore….and yes, I might have been…..well, I think I was…………….Okay. Let’s be real. I WAS WRONG.

     And in that moment, I’m reconnected with Love again.

     Forgiveness pours over me.

     The channels of kindness are reopened to my soul.

     And we address the issues at hand.

     Because, if you think your always right in every circumstance that you’ve ever been in life. Um. Hashtag PRIDE.

     And sorry to burst your bubble, but even the best of us are never right all the time.

     So don’t be afraid to get humble, to admit when you’re wrong. I promise, you’ll live to see another day.

     And not only that, you’ll get to experience first hand what it feels like to discover, what I call “Tender Mercies”: A fresh perspective on life and love. A viewpoint that is expanded beyond our previous limited vision of things.

     But back to the issues at hand:

     Yes, I honestly didn’t trust you God. Because every good and perfect thing you’ve ever given me, never looked like how I’d imagine it to look.

     And I’m fearful again.

     I'm fearful that I'll be so awkward that my future man will never want to ask me out on a date.

     I’m fearful that You’re gonna make me have a baby at 50 years old. (Um, Yes, this happens...) And I’m already tired just thinking about it at 36….(And I was hoping to have a tribe of kids by 25....)

     I’m fearful, that although my future husband, in all his seeming perfectness (strictly in my imagination), will turn out to have some weird “thing” that we will have to work on through our entire marriage.

     I’m fearful that I’m always going to feel “in between” and “stuck”….

     And with one short sentence, God calms my racing mind.

     Trust Me.

     And He reminds me of how intricately He knows my heart and my hidden thoughts.

     He asks me perfect questions like:

     But who’s leading this dance? And who’s writing this story? And did you cause the sun to rise this morning?...

     You know that verse where Jesus says,  “Ask...Seek...Knock?”

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” (Matthew 7:7-8)

     It’s in a continuous tense in the original language--meaning, never stop asking, never stop seeking, never stop knocking.

     That, in and of itself speaks volumes.

     Moreover, you find what you seek.

     If you find yourself brooding on a past which was riddled with distrust and cheating friends and lovers, you’ll mysteriously find yourself crossing paths with many of the same types of people and repeating similar cycles.

     But if you trust God in knowing that He is writing a better story, you will look for those shooting stars, small acts of kindness, and sunsets, amidst the pain and confusion, and know that He is speaking directly to you of a better and new chapter that is right around the corner.

     Just never stop looking.

     We will find what we seek.

     These dreams of ours, we won’t be able to accomplish them on our own. If we were able to, they wouldn’t truly be dreams---things out of reach, out of the ordinary, the average, the norm, things we could do in our own strength.

photo credit: evan kaufmann

     I’ve been thinking quite a bit of the Wright Brothers recently—you know the brothers who invented the first successful airplane in 1903. And how that one dream and invention changed our world forever. A life’s work and dream, actually.

     I wonder what those first conversations between the two of them were like and especially with others, as they tried to describe a piece of machinery that would make you fly like a bird.

     Could you imagine??

     Something so outside of your normal realm of thinking.

     That’s what dreams do, they challenge everything within us and around us.

     And not to mention the sense of failure.

     How many failed attempts before the dream of the airplane realized? Oh, I can only imagine the heartbreak.

     But the dream was realized and fulfilled.

     I wonder how differently the plane looked to the Wright Brothers in 1903 versus how they first pondered and thought it would look years prior.

     And let’s not even talk about what planes look like, and can do now.

     Because yes.  Although these dreams and love stories of ours rarely play out as we would expect them to --

     I am more convinced than ever they will prove to be what you’ve never known you’ve always wanted and needed…

      Trust.

Wisdom’s Knocking:

Dream on Dreamer. Dream on.