Saturday, May 07, 2016

On waiting and learning trust

A photo posted by Alison Payne (@thisfoggyday) on

Hello again. I hope all readers (in the southern hemisphere at least) are enjoying Autumn. It has been quite spectacular thus far in my high, inland neck of the woods. I love that the seasons are more distinct here. That is my little courtyard out the back in the photo. (I am wanting to upgrade that dracky old outdoor setting, which I bought many years ago on ebay, but the time will come.)

Not a whole lot has been happening. Last weekend I hosted book club at my house on the Friday evening. I was a little pre-embarrassed at what all the classy Canberra folks would think of my granny-chic-decked-out-house, but they liked it, so I can disregard that hospitality trepidation.

On the Sunday I went to the Collector Pumpkin Festival. This was a fun day in a little country village about 50 kms away, though the wind! A few folks were going, mentioned it to me, and I had decided to make the most of any opportunity to push back the solitude. I learnt my lesson on that point over the Easter and the ANZAC long weekends. I always think a long weekend to just potter about at home will be great, and in some ways it is, but at three days it gets quiet and lonely. I didn’t arrange anything for ANZAC Monday and then was annoyed with myself for just loafing about wasting it, and wished afterwards that I’d actually written a LIST of things to do (yes, a list, for this non-list person). At church on that Sunday the fellow I mentioned previously did walk up while I was in the middle of talking to someone else and say “I gave you my phone number and you didn’t call me” (I was hoping he’d forget) to which all I could think to say was “no, no I didn’t”, which was an awkward moment. That will not be happening. I have a blanket refusal to phone men in place, as of the last time I tried to phone one, and nothing short of a man calling me himself is going to shift it, but I don’t believe that should make much difference since men don’t have to sit back getting impatient, cross or discouraged with me for not calling them; they can play the man and call me themselves. I don’t believe it is any harder or riskier for them to do it than it is for me, and I’d like to have someone phone me also. (This particular fellow doesn’t have my number, but he didn’t ask for it.) Anyway, enough of that. After the way my life has played out I feel like I have developed an aversion to/phobia of taking initiative towards men, and I don’t want to do it, and I internally (and sometimes externally) rail against men making me feel like I need to do it.

But, on similar, though much more helpful lines, the Gospel Coalition recently published a couple of posts on infertility, that I think also apply to singleness. (The article author mentions those who “grieve absence” and Wendy Alsup did single women everywhere a favour in this article when she validated the grief of singleness, which also brings its own infertility.)

I know the woman who wrote the articles, but she clearly doesn't want to be identified, and so be it. Here is Part 1, which is especially good, and Part 2.

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