So it has been a while since I've had anything to say on here. Quite a lot in my life has changed. I have grown accustomed to thinking that the things that have occurred and the things that I have realized have all impacted me negatively. And today I have realized that is just backwards thinking.
Perhaps the catalyst of my sad semester was the death of my Granddaddy. I really love my Granddaddy; always have and always will. He was always my encourager; he thought I could do anything I wanted to and do it perfectly. As I sit here writing this, so many memories are running through my head.
I remember him being so proud of me at my high school graduation that he cried. He always told me how he looked forward to my college graduation. He made it to the beginning of my senior year of college; I wish he could be here for the end. And I remember when my mother and I would sit in the living room and watch those silly wedding shows on the girly channels, and he would see what we were watching and tell me how he couldn't wait to see me walk down the aisle as a bride. He obviously didn't live long enough to see that, since I am currently as single as possible. I would give anything to have him there on that future day. I really love my Granddaddy.
Perhaps the most striking memory I have, and the one I cling to more than anything right now, is the memory of his last words to me. I came home one Friday near the beginning of this semester. That night, Granddaddy became very ill, and my Mama decided to take him to the hospital. He didn't realize at first that I had even come home; he didn't see me until I helped him into the car. I had to pick his feet up off the ground and put them into the car, because he was too weak to be able to pick them up and put them in himself. As sick as he was, he smiled when he saw me.
He said, "Well Carolyn, how is school going?"
"It's pretty tough right now," I replied.
"But you're tougher," he said. Adding in, "goodbye," and, "I love you," it was our last conversation ever.
The next time I was able to come home from school to see him was the next weekend. I visited him in the hospital, but he was not really able to talk. He tried, but I couldn't really understand what he was saying. He knew I was there, though. But that visit is not what I really choose to think about. I prefer to remember those words, "But you're tougher."
After Granddaddy died, I did not handle it very well. I really felt the loss; it was a huge hole. It still is. But particularly soon after his passing, for some reason I began to question my past decisions and their implications. I have tried to stay a Godly woman, although I fail to always do right, just like every other sinner on this planet. And when I was questioning my past decisions, I thought that perhaps I had not done right according to God's plan. (Now let me just say that I do not know God's plan. I do not know if I did right or not. But I do know now that God can work with it; after all, He is God.)
But then, I turned to God in a new prayer. My prayer for a while was, "Lord, either give this to me or take away my hurt from not being able to have it. It doesn't matter which one; I just want to be happy."
I feel like that's a fairly common prayer for people to pray. It's easy to say those things when you regret decisions made in the past and desire a happier future. But it's a fallacy. It's pretty elementary, actually. I remember it being in Sunday School lessons from when I was a child. God's three answers to prayers are: yes, no, or wait. And I was reminded of that today, while I was in the student section at the Iron Bowl.
I can't exactly figure out what at the Iron Bowl reminded me of God's promises, or why I felt compelled to put it on the internet for folks to read. But either way, here it is. God told me today that He has a future for me. He just ain't telling me what it is yet. It may or may not be what I have wanted, or currently want. And He told me not to even worry about that anymore, because He's got something for me; I just have to be able to wait. I can still worry about decisions I made, but I have got to be prudent in my sadness. I am here where I am and I can't change that.
Waiting is sometimes necessary. I have to wait right now to find out where to go next, what to do, and how I can be the best woman I can be. So what I need to do is look forward to my future; my meaningful future.
And that, my friends, makes me happy.
