I Know You Well

Chapter 1

I heard the shouts of all the people and wondered what the commotion was. I headed toward the main road in the middle of the small town. It was quite crowded, and I could hardly see past all the people. When I finally reached the road, I saw a strange man riding on a donkey. Who rides a donkey in 2007? The crowd was exuberant, screaming and calling out to this man. Suddenly he looked right at me. It was as if he could see right through me, and I could feel his eyes searching my heart. I wanted desperately to hide from his piercing look, but I couldn't move. Even as he continued down the road, my feet were rooted to the spot. When I could finally move and returned home, it was almost dark. I opened the door, and jumped. He was sitting on the couch in my living room.

"Hello, Becky."
He knew my name?
"I know you well."
I was scared. I ran for the bathroom and grabbed the phone on my way. I was going to call 911. I jumped again because he was in the bathroom too.
"How...?"
"I am everywhere and right here."
I didn't "get it", so I got angry. It's what I do when I am confused... or facing any other unwanted emotion. Besides, it was my house.
"GET OUT!!!!" I shouted.
"I will leave, but only for now."

Once he was gone, my house was quiet. I hated the silence, but even more, I hated the way I felt when he looked at me, when he was near me. It was as if I were naked, but this feeling went well-beyond the physical. He was inside of me, but not as anyone else ever had been. He knew me. He knew me, and I didn't like it.

The next morning, I got up for my daily walk/run. It was early, about 5:30, and I walked out the front door to see him sitting on the front steps.

"May I go with you?" he asked. I considered for a few moments: Can I trust him? What if he is like all the others? I took a deep breath, "OK." Afterall, there would be others on the trail, not to mention that he already knew where I lived. We ran in silence, but when we got back, he spoke, "I'll just wait outside." And he did. All day. I wondered what he was waiting for, but chose not to ask. My day was pretty normal aside from a strange man sitting outside the front porch all day. When I finally went to bed, I assumed he'd be gone in the morning but kept the phone close just in case. I was surprised the next morning when I left at 5:30 again to see him sitting there waiting for me. I sighed. "OK... you can come."

The cycle continued until Wednesday when I broke the pattern and asked him if he'd like to have breakfast. "I'd love to."

His company was quite enjoyable, and he spent the entire day with me. He did on Thursday as well, but this day, he grew more personal, asking me things I didn't want to talk about and invading my heart. He went past the point of common decency, and I became angry all over again. "Leave!" He looked at me with sad eyes as if he knew I was going to say that, then smiled and left. I allowed my anger to swallow me. I couldn't handle anything else. Little did I know where that anger would take me. I fumed as I fought to fall asleep. Somewhere in the night, I eventually did fall asleep and began to dream.

I was on the same road I ran to several days ago, only it was many years earlier. The road was dirt, but I ran anyway. It was softer than the pavement I normally ran on, and felt especially good considering I was running in leather sandals. I heard shouting just like the last time, and I slowed to a walk as I approached the crowd. There were three men carrying what looked like to long pieces of heavy wood in the shape of crosses. He was one of them, and again, he looked right at me. It was like deja voux of the past/future. Which one, I wasn't sure. What I did seem to know was where they were taking him. I was drawn as if by a magnetic force to what I knew was coming, and I hardened my heart, clinging to the anger within. As they walked up the hill, I followed, pushing my way to the front of the crowd. At the top, I lost myself, grabbing one of the hammers on the ground. I was driven by something beyond my control, yet I knew exactly what I was doing. I screamed something unintelligible and raised the hammer. When I brought it down, I saw him looking at me.

What am I doing?
"I know you well." I brought the hammer up again.
Stop! CRASH!
"I know you well."

Despite the fact he never spoke aloud, I heard him clearly. Up and down went the hammer. I couldn't make myself stop. I wanted to, but I couldn't, and what haunted me most was that he seemed to know.

Be angry, just be angry, I thought.
"I know you well."
Maybe so, but I don't want you to. I am disgusting. I am a damaged whore and a murderer, not someone you should love. "Leave me alone!!!"
"I know you well."
I raised the hammer again.

©2007

What a feeling...

So, it has been a good while since I last wrote, but for the most part, it has been intentional. Remember my last post? I wrote it on a day when I had reached “that point”. You know, the point where you know there is nothing more you can do and you feel so drained you don’t know whether the correct response to your situation is to laugh or to cry.

Well, I have news! I wrote my last post on a Wednesday. I was down in the dumps. I was still searching for a job, and I was slowly making a dent at the whopping $18.14 in my bank account. I was angry, and I was scared. How was I going to “make it”? I was terrified of the ramifications of not having the financial resources to make ends meet, completely forgetting the fact that I had/have much for which to be thankful:

I am healthy. My family loves me and is willing to help me, even to the extent of sacrificing things for themselves, I have good friends. I have a roof over my head, I have food for every meal, and, albeit a beggar, the world’s most intuitive and loving dog. I am not completely jobless; I teach piano/voice part-time and have the means to make about half of my necessary income. It is a job that I absolutely love, not to mention the fact that I have 16 students whom I love and adore… and who never fail to make me smile, if not laugh to the point of tears. I have clothes, a car that runs (well to be precise). Based upon what I do have, despite feeling nervous about what I do not have, I am wealthier than 66% of the world’s population. Kind of puts things in perspective, huh?

And let’s not forget that I serve a God who provides every single one of these things and far more. You think I’d learn not to doubt... Please do not ask me how many times I have said that phrase because it is more than my fingers and toes combined, and once I reached 20 (just for today, that is), I stopped counting.
So, back to Wednesday, September 22, 2010. I went to bed that night after writing an extremely long journal entry. My closing statement was “Your will, not mine. I’ve tried it my way, and it didn’t work. Here I am.” I awakened the next morning to go a meeting with a group of my fellow therapists. The meeting progressed as it normally did with one small change. A therapist from the small counseling agency that had previously offered me a job last March suggested that I give him a call by the end of the week. My mind began to reel! Six months ago, I had been offered a position at this same agency; however, I did not take the position because I had been offered another job that provided, I believed to be, more “financial security”… despite the fact that, in combination with teaching piano/voice, I was working close to 70-80 hours per week. Needless to say, I called. I forced myself to wait a few hours, so as not to seem “too eager” (even though I was, in fact, very eager). I left a message and waited… not very patiently, I might add. I was quite giddy with anticipation.

On Friday, September 24, I went with my mom to help babysit my nephew. We left at 5:45am. It was dark, and my mom was exhausted. However, sleep deprivation never inhibited me from speech, and I sheepishly admit that I drove my mom crazy with my incessant chatter on the hour-long drive. My nephew did not mind, and we held a very intellectual conversation… so intellectual that no one but us will ever have the capacity to understand. Our conversation was interrupted mid-morning when I received a phone call. It was a phone call in response to the message I’d left the day before. Was I willing to come to the next staff meeting to discuss options with the rest of the staff? Was I willing??!! To make the story a little shorter, the next few weeks were filled with interviews, meetings, and phone calls…

That all resulted in a job offer! Yes, a job offer!!! I am thrilled, relieved, and somewhat embarrassed that I so readily doubt the abilities of my Heavenly father. Isn’t it “ironic” that the potential for a job opportunity, the first and only open door was revealed only after I completely surrendered?

But now I have a job. Yes, it will be a slow start, but I have a job! A job that had been offered to me six months ago, but I did not take. A job that, had I taken six months ago, may not have allowed me to refinance my house. A job that was my first choice. A job that I have no doubt I will love. A job where I will receive incredible supervision and be surrounded by other therapists who will help me grow, professionally and personally. A job about which I am thoroughly excited! How many people get to say, “I have two jobs that I love, and I am excited to go to work”?

Was it worth the wait? Absolutely!!

Although I admit that I most definitely will not mind waiting for the next time I have to wait.