False Starts

false-start (fôlsstärt) A misguided or unsuccessful attempt to begin something; a wrong beginning. The term originated in racing, where it refers to beginning a race before the starting signal has been given. The expression was soon transferred to other kinds of failed beginning. [Early 1800s]

I feel like there have been so many false starts in my life lately. Jobs that sounded God-ordained only to fall through. Opportunities that glimmer with possibility but never materialize. Things that seem like "sure things" but just don't pan out. I am already a very skeptical person, and this recent series of events has done very little to improve that.

And today was another in the series. My sister Erica found out that she miscarried today. She was about 10 weeks pregnant. She's taking it wonderfully, although she's terribly disappointed. It was such an exciting beginning only to fall through--another false start. We have read all of the information available and my head knows that in the course of life, it's a very natural thing. But my heart is so sore. I go back to the question, "WHY?"

And I know all of the Sunday School answers to that question. The polite, sterile pat comments that people say without much thought; and I know the authentic truth behind those cliche comments. I know that God sees so much more than I ever will and that these experiences are helping to grow me and shape me into the woman that He wants me to be. And that the only way that faith grows is through testing. I KNOW all of that. You can't tell me anything that I haven't already told myself. But that still doesn't help me.

With every new hope that pops onto the horizon, I'm finding that I'm becoming more and more cynical. I look for what will go wrong, or how this exciting new 'yes' will turn into a heart-wrenching 'no.' And I don't want to be that way. I want to be hopeful and optimistic--I envy those who can be continually open-hearted in the face of such disappointment. My biggest fear is that I'll wind up some bitter old-maid English teacher who owns a hundred cats and goes to bed at 8pm and never has anything good to say to anyone.

Maybe I'm being a bit too honest here, but it's the "cry of my heart" at the moment. It's a starting place. And it kinda comes with this time of the year for me--but more about that later.