Lana Vaughan

The Queen of Questions

Missing pieces

I’ve heard the “life is a tapestry” analogy. I’ve heard “all the world’s a stage….” I heard we are each called to our own unique story. I believe each of those are true.

This morning I realized why they are true. I have a vision for my life, a play on the stage, a story I am writing for myself from my perspective and with all my biases. And you, even if I have never met you, you have a part to play. Each time someone comes into my life they pick up a thread, they add lines or business that moves the story forward in some way. The guy who cuts me off without a clue, changes my story. The grandson who runs back for one more hug before he has to go, changes my story. The neighbor who waves as they walk by or ignores me when they see me wave, changes my story.

Some have a much bigger role. I have carved out part of my heart, my hopes, my dreams and entrusted them to honor, respect and help me fulfill them. I may never climb mountains or bet it all on red in Vegas. These people are my greatest challenge and my biggest risk. I trust them. Maybe it was earned trust but mostly, I just bestowed all this on them. Often without their knowledge and seldom with any consent.

I dreamed for me and my dreams included them. I planned for me and included them. I hoped for me and included them. I prayed for me and included them.

And when my dreams and their dreams didn’t align, I blamed myself for dreaming. When my plans weren’t convenient for them, I devalued myself and retreated from engaging at all. When hope wavered, despair rushed to fill the void. When prayers when unanswered, darkness was waiting.

Then the grief set in.

Grief for all that could have been, that should have been, that I thought would be. Grief for time and opportunities and relationships lost, abandoned, wasted. Grief that was so overwhelming it drowned out the dreams, refused to make plans and told hope to stop trying.

But the dreams resurfaced and hope refused to die.

I made new plans. And the cycle began again. This time without some of the threads, without some of the players, without….

My dreams got smaller because they no longer included parts of my heart. My plans got smaller because I no longer included those who were too busy. My hope was tempered with low expectations and past experience. My prayers became simple….

Thank you, God, for allowing me to dream, to plan, to hope, to pray. Thank you for each one who has come into my life for a reason, a season, a lifetime. Thank you for helping me see that other’s have trusted me to be part of their dreams, their plans, their hopes and have lifted me in their prayers. Thank you for understanding the grief and keeping hope alive. Thank you for letting me feel the absence of the missing pieces.

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