Why do we seek those who reject us, like the moth drawn into the deadly flame?
We feel the singe, even smell our own flesh burning, yet we reach towards the destructive fire. It’s not that some of us will actually touch it again once burned, melted beyond recognition even to ourselves. It’s the yearning, the desire, the ache that splinters up the wrist bones into our jaws—the fact that we want that which is toxic to come closer to us.
In my own life, I’ve experienced this more than once. When I was a little girl, I desired the admiration and attention of my abuser. I grew into my own skin, this method of seeking approval becoming more and more like a competition, a challenge.
“Let me see if I can get THAT one to like me.”
“Of course I can change him.”
As though I was the ALL-GREAT-AND-MIGHTY-POWERFUL Wizard of Oz.
And in a sense, I still try to be. I am more like the Wizard than not.
I am small, hidden behind a curtain of shame and doubt and pain and brokenness. I am slapped with rejection at every bend.
I am waiting for the call. You know the one. The one that makes you set your phone within arms length only to pretend you are busy with the rest of your life all the while hoping it will ring. You want to simply be courageous, pick up and dial, but know that you cannot.
When you seek the Rejector, you find yourself standing alone in a light drizzle so cold your toes curl into your shoes until the arches of your feet cramp. You allow the spasm to crawl back to your toes, permitting them to shoot out in deformed directions.
I know that I am supposed to be alone, at least for a time. The funny thing is that I am never alone with three young children, all with their own special needs.
Maybe I need to sit in this space to finally connect with the only one who never rejected me – my G-d. If I would only listen, He would say to me:
Child of Mine, you are leaping when you should be still. You are screaming when you need silence. You are opening wounds when you need to heal. You are broken, but if you just let go, I will cast you into a new shape and you will heal whole again—into the way I originally designed you.
I have provided for all your needs.
You need no other.
No one can do for you that which I can.
Trust in me.
Do not be afraid to be alone for this will give you the time you need to heal, recover, rebuild…and I am with you, and so you are really not alone.
You told Me, in your heart, if you were provided for; your life would look a certain way…
You would write.
You would paint walls.
You would plant gardens.
You would embrace your children every moment.
You would not wait on another.
You would not wait for a phone call when you have indeed such a greater call.
Listen to Me, my child, so you can hear your call.
Watch what shows for you.
Watch what brings your breath back.
Notice what brings you light.
Embrace these things, these people – they are My messengers to remind you that I am here.
You are not toxic, you are in pain.
You are My child and I love you.
There is a light for you to follow, open your eyes, turn off the phone and take a deep breath. Let Me gather you in the fold of My wings and help you re-invent your life to now serve Me and fulfill My purpose.
Do not be molded and influenced by others’ desires of you and for you. Keep your eyes on Me.
Keep Me near.
Go inside for a time.
Stay near to your children.
You were almost willing to become most anything to not be rejected.
Now be willing to become what I have in mind for you and in this, you will find peace.