Nothing has come easy over the last ten years. I was convinced I was done, kaput with the work of God. I figured I was destined to roam the earth until God decided I had roamed enough and that it was time to for me to come home, anyhow. I was determined to live out the death sentence that I knew was placed upon me, and I wasn't sure how I was going to survive on earth until that culminating day when I would be taken up with God in shame, instead of approval.
I just knew I had ruined the whole thing, this whole life experience and the work God put me on this planet to do. I was scorned by the thought of teenagers whose lives ended by their own hands because of my lack of involvement. I scolded myself in deep-seeded thoughts of missed opportunities and uncertainties of the future that God had for me. I was a mess, lost in chaos and wallowing in the deepest of self-pities. I was confused and very much unlike myself. I began to hate myself and to feel that I had lost everything, even life itself. I was a mortal shadow of life, and I existed only because God had decided not to kill me. I hadn't suffered enough. As I struggled with defeat, I thought that God was a tormentor when you didn't listen to the call He put upon your life, no matter how big or small. The call could be an inkling, just out of the blue to go to a store you've never been to before, or it could be something much bigger than that--much bigger than you--and it was for me.
Now, I use the word "was", but it is only suggestive. My "was" has become my is, as my past aligns itself with my future. I just knew I was going to live this parallel life, forever, never seeing the light of day, which are my dreams. I expected to live one life, all the while looking at the life I should be living and never seeing my life realign itself to whatever was meant to be. I had come to the very brink of myself and of what I could do for me, and now it was God's turn. It was God's time to take over and completely direct my life. I was afraid of that removal of me because, for one, I didn't know God knew I existed, even. It was a shock, and I completely choked! Oh my, did I choke! It was utter disappointment, for me, to not follow what I, instinctively, knew to do. It was upsetting for me to, not only let down myself, but also to let down others, when they didn't even know the reason for the letdown. All they knew was, as so many people put it, I up and quit my job (which is what I felt I had to do in order to pursue the next level of my life). To them, I didn't want to work, anymore. I disappointed them, as well. I was on the rise, and all of a sudden, I had none of that which I had not long ago. I felt like a drug addict, in their eyes--like I had it all, only to become addicted to a drug and let my life fall apart. Before their eyes, their dreams for me crumbled, and my dreams for me crumbled before mine. I didn't even know what my dreams were, until the day I had a vision. Whew, what a vision can do for you.
I already had a dream, but I began to have a vision, which at the time, I had never even heard the word "vision" used in a manner of purpose, and "dream", although I knew what it meant to have a dream, the people I knew never referred to it as anything more than a sleep pattern. Dreams were considered far-fetched, unrealistic and unattainable. As far as "vision" was concerned, for me, it was the word my optometrist used to describe my eyesight, which was 20/40 when he last checked. It was as close to "vision" as I had gotten, until I actually had one. I knew exactly what to do and where to go but didn't know why I knew these things and why I felt the strong desire follow them. I also felt the strong desire to quit my job as a customer service rep, stronger than anything I'd ever felt. I was burnt out at work, and it was becoming tedious to go there, nevertheless stay all day. I was getting bored, when months before, I was loving my job.
Then one day, I felt the need to quit my job. I had a vision, and it came the day before I decided I was going to quit. The feeling was so strong, but not half as strong as it was on that very day when I told my supervisor that I was going to leave my job and pursue a building (in New York City), which was the only thing I was seeing in my vision. We spoke for two hours, in an already-scheduled one-on-one that was supposed to last only 45 minutes. I had planned to announce to her my decision during this meeting. Although I was really nervous, and, seemingly, quite unintelligble. Yet, she understood every thought I relayed to her as I explained how I felt this was something I had to do. She, then, took me to see our associate floor manager. She had concerns about me leaving so suddenly, and that, if I left and nothing happened, I would be unable to return. Still, I was sure of my decision, or so I thought. Once we entered our manager's office, both my supervisor and manager began to shore me up with options--going part-time, moving to a different department, taking some time off to think things over. I began to feel uncertain and unsure of myself, so much so that I opted for the third choice--one vacation day. Why, when I was so sure? Why am I listening to them? These were my thoughts, my questions, as I left the office, walked down the stairs, left the building and walked to my car to take a vacation--something I knew I didn't want. A bolder decision needs to be made. In my case, it wasn't a "maybe" but a definitely. I definitely needed to be off payroll at my job, and I knew this as I walked down the stairs and left for my mini vacation.
After coming home from work, I told my parents I was taking a "vacation day". They both panicked, saying that I had been taking a lot of "vacation days", lately and referencing that I had just come back from Florida the weekend before. (Now, that was a vacation.) After listening to both of them, I was too afraid to do anything. I wondered how to make this happen now that I've told them. I hadn't told them about the vision or my plan--to go to New York anyway. I went to bed with that idea in my head, only to wake up panic-stricken in the middle of the night, sit up straight in my bed and say, "I need to be off payroll, now! There's no time for a vacation day!" Although I did, I didn't need to feel dread because the urgency in my words said it all.
I had no idea what I was giving up. I ended up doing nothing that day. Ugh, utter disappointment. It felt like a day of nothingness. I felt like I was in the wrong place and that I could have been in a place where things would be happening for me. It truly felt like God had not planned anything for where I was because He had planned everything for where I was supposed to be.
My vacation day (an ironic description of the day) was the beginning of the weekend, which means I had all weekend to wallow in regret. I cancelled a long-ago scheduled meeting for the magazine. Still, I felt I had another shot to set things right. Most people hate Mondays. Not me. Not this Monday. I looked forward it. I decided that I would get up, go to work, quit my job, and leave on my road trip to fulfill whatever this wonderful thing was. I did just that. Going into work helped me to realize I no longer belonged there. It just didn't feel the same. It felt foreign to me. I started taking calls but, after about 30 minutes, I realized I couldn't do it anymore. After letting my supervisor know I was quitting, for sure, I left and drove more than 300 miles to do one thing--get my teen magazine off the ground.
I arrived, spoke with the receptionist, received the typical "we don't take walk-ins" iteration, begged and pleaded, told her how far I'd come for this and ended up leaving my card--okay, cards--with her. She was very nice, and I believed she would do what she could to express my desires. Upon my departure, just as he was when I arrived, a gentleman was in the foyer. I opened the glass door that led to the elevator. It was the same elevator from which he directed me out, gestured me past him and into the direction of the glass door where the receptionist sat. He was on the phone. I noticed his feet, which were huge, and he was wearing suspenders. He was still on the phone, as I exited to take my long commute back home. Not long after I pulled out of my parking space (a miracle find in that area, by the way), I saw one even more miraculous than that, and this one was even closer to the building than the original one. As I noticed the empty parking space, I thought to go back and make it known that I needed to see someone, right then and there! It was urgent. Instead, I ignored the space and the clear thought and kept driving, all the while wondering if I should return. It wasn't until a few years later that I realized the man who directed me off the elevator, on that fateful day, was the president of the company.
Things fell apart, as they do when you don't listen to yourself, and I began to spiral into pure despair. I had no job and no prospects. I felt empty. I had lost everything. I didn't do what I'd envisioned doing, and it began to hurt a little. Then, it hurt a lot. I couldn't take the pain of losing my dream career while, at the same time, losing a relationship with someone who was very special to me. Things were falling apart, quickly, and I had no concrete explanation for it. All others could see was that I quit my job. I was asked the same question over and over. Why did you quit your job? It was heart-wrenching, and I couldn't explain it enough. No one understood, and I began to lose sight of myself in telling the story. It hurt even more. Not even my friends knew what I was talking about. They tried to be supportive, but what more could they do. They couldn't re-create the day for me so that I could say, "Yes! See, this is what I was talking about! Now, do you get it?!" All I wanted was for others to get it, to know that what I did wasn't foolish but that my choice to not act fully on it--to fully commit--was foolish. They could see no more than my family. I felt like a lost soul, and no one could help me. I suffered, dearly, for my decisions, and I lost sight of who I was and who I could be, until now...
After wallowing in sadness and thinking it was over for me, I am recovering. I am able to let go of that old way of thinking, now. I see the word "Vision", in a visiony way--don't bother looking up the word, it's not there. I'm not going to describe anymore than that, but I wrote all of this to prove that life is still livable as long as you're alive. No matter how old you are, God still has a life for you. No matter how stuck you may feel or how much you feel you've messed up, there is a plan for you. You just have to get back into alignment with that plan, and that takes willingness--a willingness to forgive yourself and to forgive others. Really though, the forgiveness starts with you. Forgiving yourself means making different choices from the ones you made before--the ones that hurt, instead of helped. That's how you heal the relationship with yourself. It means allowing your life to unfold before you and taking those steps forward. It means surrendering. You have dreams. You don't have to know what they are. I didn't. When they came, however, I recognized them, and I just had to follow. Being who you are by following what's in your heart, and in your gut--that's the key.
You do that, and you'll walk right into your destiny.
I love you!
Yvette
