running

Where do you run to get away? Impulse drives me to come home to the country where I spent much of my childhood. I come to escape the different lives I lead and just come and sit in the pasture, where as a little girl I would come when I needed to escape the “harshness” of life. Walking through the fields, now speckled with fallen trees and every sign of winter, I feel safe. I feel as though it is here where I can be me and not have to pretend to smile or pretend to be ok. Memories of my childhood searches flood back into my mind. Day after day I would take refuge in the back forest as I became dinosaur-bone-hunter-extraordinaire. I would spend entire afternoon’s collecting bones that were half the size of me thinking that I was going to make my family rich. There were intentions of getting myself out of the messes that I had gotten myself into and escaping the reality of my life. Of course the reality of it all came to me when I was laughed at by a family friend and I discovered that those bones didn’t even come close to being ancient, they were from cows. In that back pasture I would search for berries that would sustain me for “days” when I was going to run away and live in the tree house‘s that my sister and I were going to build. Sometimes I would just go to explore. I would follow the croaking of the frogs or follow any little creature that I would hear scatter through the forest. It’s there were I found refuge.

As I sit here now, I come, just as I once did when I was little. I come to escape the harshness of the world, it seems so much bigger then it ever did when I was five. However, instead of searching for bones or berries, I come now searching for the broken pieces of my heart. The pieces that somehow got lost and buried in my life. In all reality, I know that I will have to return to the things that I am running from. I know that I will have to be ok….or look like I am, but it is here where I can be real with what I am going through and not have to masquerade around with a smile on my face pretending like nothing is wrong. I can cry and scream and the worse thing that is going to happen are the cows just beyond the fence are going to judge me.

This time though it’s different. I come to escape, but I come to be rescued. When I was little I never had the dreams of the knight in shinning armour coming to save me because I was too independent and too self sufficient for that. As I find myself all grown up I now feel helpless and alone. Surrounded by the birds and cows, I know that I can never make it alone in this wilderness. I wait for my Saviour to come rescue me. My own search for the broken pieces of my heart concludes when I see that all of my efforts are useless. Useless because it is an impossible task that I can not face on my own. The times of “self sufficient Sasha” have to be no more. I am left with no choice but to let Him come and search after me, and save me from this mess. So all I can do is merely be me in this wilderness. I can come to escape. I can come with all of my efforts and all of my intentions but it will never work. It’s like God is sitting there telling me that, just like with those bones I may have the intentions to change my world and to become the Sasha that I want to become, however I have to succumb to the things that He has in store no matter how difficult and how ridiculous that they may be.