I mean, don't get me wrong, I want things. But, like, general concepts of things. I want a career. I want a career where I can create, make people laugh, help people, make empowered decisions, put things together, and organize things. (That sounds weird, I know, but I think it's really, really fun to organize stuff.) I want a relationship. I want a relationship with a guy who is kind and funny and smart and mostly level headed. I want a house. I want a house with a porch and hardwood floors and a bay window. I want a pet rabbit. Or maybe a guinea pig. Or a small dog. Something like that.
So, see, I'm good at liking dreams of things and outlines. I'm good at thinking up characteristics and sketchy blueprints in my mind. I'm good at staring off into space, wistfully, crashing back to reality, and sighing, "Someday."
But when it gets to be concrete, when there are specifics involved, I get... knocked off kilter.
I once wanted a dog. A specific dog. I had jokingly harassed my parents about getting this dog for years. He was old, a cairn terrier, and perpetually happy. His name was "Yoshi" and he was missing some (or maybe all?) of his teeth so his tongue hung limp out of his mouth. I knew, when I lived with them, that my parents wouldn't let me get a pet of any kind. So for years I wanted this dog, but I wanted him in a light and noncommittal way, with just a pinch of insincerity.
This is Yoshi, by the way. As you can see: he is very cute. You can't see his tongue in this picture but I think that's just because of the angle.
A few months ago, I had the realization that I didn't live with my parents any more and that meant that I really could get Yoshi. And then? I really wanted him. It was my most frequently recurring thought. I scoured the Furry Kids Refuge page but couldn't find him anywhere. Not as an adoptable dog, not as an adopted dog, and not on the memorial page. I started searching other local rescues, but couldn't find him anywhere. I felt sick and sad almost constantly, until my dad, who is somehow always in the loop when it comes to Furry Kids Refuge, told me that Yoshi had been adopted.
I imagined him trotting around in a backyard somewhere, getting showered with affection, and I consented that his life was probably better with whoever his new owners are than it would have been living with a perpetually busy 24 year old on the second story in an apartment building.
Sometimes disappointment is the only relief from desire.
In my last blogpost, I talked about praying that God would change the desires of my heart to align with his plans for my life. I think this is a solid quest because God's plans are guaranteed to come to fruition, and I would like to be happy and excited when they do. This prayer has always referred to the more general desires of my heart because, as previously mentioned, I'm pretty bad at wanting specific things.
Lately, though, concrete desires have been at play and so the nature of my prayers have changed. I still ask for my wants and God's plans to align, but, there's a lot more of "I think I'm going insane" thrown in there. A sense of urgency I'd never included before. "Lord, I want this one, this time, and I think I might be going crazy, so if it's not going to happen, or even if it's not going to happen soon, could replace that desire with something else like now please please please??"
My problem with wanting specific things is that my life feels so askew when I do. My mind keeps wandering back to the same places. I can feel my heart and stomach tying themselves into anxious knots. I'll start to pull out my hair and rip off my nails. It's like I'm drunk on a poorly mixed cocktail of hope, disappointment, nerves, and longing.
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