life in Spain (pt 3)

Winter 1990. I can’t be more specific with the timing. My memory is not as good as it used to be.

I was home retrieving my boy. I was very nervous those 3 weeks. I had myself convinced something bad was about to happen. Maybe I did that out of some weird sense of “life is going to good right now, so naturally something bad must be about to happen?” Always the pessimist. Always believing Murphy’s Law.

When my 3 weeks at home were up without incident, my mind naturally decided we were going to die in a fiery plane crash. We did have one leg in our flights that was incredibly scary as the pilot of that particular plane felt the need to turn and land at what seemed like a treacherous angle. I held onto the arms of my seat in white knuckled fear, convinced we about to crash!

But we didn’t. We made it to Spain in one piece. The very next day, we got in the car to drive to the base. The boy was 4 years old, belted into the front seat, talking a mile a minute like always. The road through this particular neighborhood was winding. The boy asked me a question. I turned to look at him for just a second. When I looked back up, I was horrified to see another car crossing in my path! I slammed on the brakes and the clutch. We crashed into this car so hard it was totaled. Thankfully no one was injured. At least not seriously. This incident only served to reinforce this crazy notion that I had some sort of premonition. And who know? Maybe it was the Lord whispering a warning to me? Would He do something like that for a girl who refused to believe He was there?

Whatever happened to the guy I fell in love with? Like I said up there, my memory of the order of events is sketchy. I think I might have gone home to visit the boy in the summer of 1989. I think that’s when I broke the news to her that I was preparing to bring the boy back after Christmas. That’s when I realized I loved the guy. He bought me a puppy! A little Pomeranian I named Pilar. Upon my return to Spain I knew something was wrong. He was cold and distant. And then he told me he changed his mind. He wasn’t actually in love with me. Sorry, it’s not you, it’s me. I was so hurt. I couldn’t believe I put myself out there to have my heart crushed again! I tried to make him change his mind.

The problem for me with rejection is I always assume it’s about me not being enough. It’s only now, 25 years later, I’m realizing rejection is far more complicated than just not liking another person’s quirks. Oh, we like to think we reject others because of who they are, but really we reject others because of who we are, because of self protection. But it doesn’t make the sting of rejection any less intense.

To be continued…

His… Michelle
Philippians 1:20

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