Since God sees what we can’t see, He separates us from those people to fix and stop the haemorrhage. As any doctor would.
You feel lonely when God separates you. Often you experience the worst anxiety ever to exist on this earth. Out of fear, you start to question God. Saying, “please, don’t take these beloved people away from me”. You do that because in your mind, you’re thinking that God is being unfair. Yet, God separates you, anyway, because His operation must continue. So that your wound can heal, and your bleeding can finally stop.
Accept being seperated from people. Accept solitude. Because, in the end, it’s for your own healing.” ― Mitta Xinindlu
I’m trying to trust the process because I know that the only way to get this over and done with is to go through it. And because I know that whatever this is, it is part of the masterplan that God has for me. I’m desperately trusting in the perfection of God’s plan and His timing. It is VERY difficult though. I think it is the sitting still and the waiting that is getting to me. I thought I was patient. Maybe I’m not as patient as I thought after all.
I’m discovering a lot about myself during this waiting period – what I thought I was and what I actually am and what I’m actually not. It is humbling and I find it very suprising. It’s not to say that I don’t accept the discoveries about myself. because I’m learning to embrace the parts of me that I didn’t know existed — or maybe a better way to say it is that I’m learning to accept the parts of me that I thought were unacceptable because someone said they were. They’re part of the fabric of my personality and I think I actually like the parts of me that I subsumed so that I could keep the peace. I’m glad I can bring them forward again because I am seeing who I am again. For all my faults and foibles, I’m actually okay with that. I can work on what I need to improve.
I’m also trying to lean into the solitude. I think that’s what I’m finding very difficult. Because when one has been part of a unit for such a long time, it is difficult to identify yourself as a solitary being. Part of how I had started to identify myself is that belonging to that unit. I found that realisation quite disconcerting because I thought I was determined to mark myself as independent, anindividual. I remember being determined to establish myself as Yelly, not the granddaughter of General Medina, or the daughter of Dr and Mrs Medina, or my Tita Bing’s niece. I was quite proud that I’d established myself in my life in the UK as me and not who I was related to. I guess that was mostly professionally. Emotional identification was different, I guess. Now that I’m no longer part of that twosome, while I accept that to be a reality (and to be honest, I now know that I will never want to be part of that unit ever again), I think my subconscious is having a difficult time catching up with the status quo. My mind knows it and so does my heart. It’s the emotional muscle memory that needs to follow.
Yellywelly 