Only the bravest become generals of mighty armies and powerful men. They are strong and assert their influence over the ones who follow them. But in the battles of endless bloodshed, do they harden their hearts to claim authority and hide the guilt and shame of leaving fallen brethren behind? Perhaps it really is the fear that fuels their motivation to live. And isn’t that pathetic?
What does it mean to live a life with integrity and courage when it looks like stupidity—knowing you may get hurt but doing it anyway? They are two sides of the same coin in this cruel game we call life, and seldom do people win. And I’m ashamed I may have become that very same person. Someone who has thrown away hope out of the fear I will be hurt again. I’ve become a coward. A coward?
Is that who I want to be? Someone defined by fear, a doormat, a lost soul? No…
Those characteristics don’t embody who I am. I would never give in to the despair caused by suffering. I would fight and fight and fight… but I don’t want to be strong. Isn’t that a strange paradox? What am I afraid of?
“He who fears that he shall suffer is already suffering from what he fears” — Michel de Montaigne
It was me. I am to blame for the unnecessary hurt. I have caused my own suffering by staying in meaningless relationships for far too long. For forsaking someone seems far too extreme for me to practice, but I have come to understand it isn’t noble of me to abandon myself to love people who can’t or won’t love me back. It’s just self-destructive. And after months of grief in wondering whether relationships are worth the pain, I’ve been told it’s worth pursuing them with the right people.
Effort is reciprocated in the right relationships, and they bear fruit. So, I am thankful for the conversations with my older and wiser companions, for the friends who held space for me and haven’t invalidated my feelings and experiences, and for the ones who see me for me. I promise to cherish you and put more effort into letting you know how grateful I am for you. Because of you, I’m finally at a place where I no longer feel any guilt about saying goodbye to bad friends.
I’ve suffered at the hands of the same kinds of people. I’ve been angry, I’ve grieved, and I’ve been abandoned more times than I can count. Yet in my own foolishness, I keep coming back to the same conclusion. That love is worth it. Jesus won’t let me give up. After all, He decided a relationship with sinners like us was worth it. His death on the cross made us clean and right with our Heavenly Father. So, I will be more careful with my time and energy, but when I do give others access to me, it will be wholeheartedly and in a way that shines a magnificent light on the darkness.
And I suppose this is what wisdom and courage look like: living with intention despite the inevitable suffering. Perhaps it’s nonsensical, too, to embrace a path that guarantees pain. I am afraid, but I know it’s what I was called to do. Doing the right thing in the face of fear is strong and courageous. That is who I am and who I was made to be. But can you say the same for yourself? Are you strong and courageous… or are you a coward?
水 