I want to fall facedown.

The other day, my sister flew into my room two hours before my natural waking hour (which is... well, let's just say it's obscenely late) to relate her horrifying nightmare to me. Despite my being pretty groggy and drifting in and out of sleep, I listened to my meimei describe the monster in her bad dream's face, and every detail of his glistening, black eyes and how she was afraid to go to sleep again the next night.
I could relate. We all hate nightmares - in my case, I still sleep with a nightlight because of night-frights. Yep. That's right. I'm nineteen years old and I sleep with a nightlight.

Anyway. As Qin bounced around on my bed, temporarily forgetting about her dream in other attempts to wake me so I could play, my mind started to drift as it often does (I'm a writer... it happens). I started to think about the level of which I feared nightmares, and for one moment hoped I wouldn't have one that night - but then a sort of existential thought occured to me next: even if I didn't have a nightmare that night, fine, but in my lifespan (unless I happen to die very soon) how many more nightmares would I have? Hundreds of thousands. Millions. Perhaps billions, if I'm so unlucky. Even if I made it through a whole year somehow without having one traumatic nightmare, what were the odds that I would make it through my whole entire life without at least another one of those closet-monster dreams? Dreams are totally out of our control - try as we might, we cannot control what our brain plays back to us in the state of unconsciousness. I don't care what those freaky mind gurus say, you can't condition your mind what to dream. Sometimes it works, but in general, you can dream anything, from fuzzy demented polygons oozing pus (a nightmare of mine that just sounds retarded when I retell it but is the most terrifying, recurring childhood nightmare I have ever had, and will unfortunately continue to have) to purple angels who fly around throwing bananas at people (that one hasn't happened yet).

Well, I thought to myself, if I can't control nightmares, at least it's nice that I control basically most other things in my life. How I do in school, who I date and befriend, what I do with my free time. But as all existential crises go, it seeped into the edges of my brief lull of happiness and made me think -- how much do I really control, though? Do I really control who my boyfriend is and the grades I get and if I choose to laze around watching TV or go outside and help my dad water the flowers?

As a Christian, I am taught that while everyone has free will, God also controls our destiny. He is the puppetmaster of our fate and how we turn out... okay, maybe puppetmaster isn't the best analogy because He definitely does not contain the morbid and slightly grim connotations that comes with the word 'puppetmaster'. We do not operate on strings and God does not dictate exactly when to move and what to do. I suppose a better phrase would be that God maps out the blueprint, the foundation, of our lives. If we choose to follow that blueprint and build our existence around what he has advised, is our choice. So, God may already have determined the man I will marry, but not whether I water the flowers or watch TV. (As in, God will never say "TEND TO THE GARDEN OR MY WHOLE PLAN IS THROWN OFF BALANCE" or stuff like that. Say it with me: TRIVIAL.)

Still, so many people are freaked out by the fact that our destiny is already, to a degree, pre-determined. It is a huge con that we do not hold our own remote controllers to ourselves, being the total control freaks that we are. We don't like the idea that we aren't in control because all of us, when it comes to this issue, are like insolent teenagers - we know best, we know everything, God knows squat, and he should give us free reign, because Father does not know best. This included me; I had so many doubts that an old senile Santa Clause incarnate knew what was best for me. I mean, what if He gave me a future job and career that I detested? What if He made me end up in a place in the world that I didn't want to be in? Most importantly (because I am finally okay admitting that I just like boys), what if I hated the person he chose to be my "The One"???

You know what, though? To hold out with us being like teenagers, that analogy comes with its own implications - that teenagers are foolhardy, that they don't in fact know best, and that their wisdom and knowledge extends to maybe the length of their pinky nail. I mean, how great are we, actually, that we think we can map out our own life if we've only lived and experienced one life, compared to God, who's seen and been through billions? If remote controlled devices held their own remotes, how far would they get when they can only see what's in front of them whereas we can see much farther and beyond, and because of that guide them the right way to hit minimal obstacles that flatten their little engines? I'm full of bad analogies today. My point is, God created us, crafted us, placed in detail the environment we would grow up in. How in the world would he not know what was best? We can only see a few feet in front of us, and nothing of the future, whereas he looks over the whole universe and knows the future and by doing so, can guide us by the safest route throughout life. I doubt I can even remember how to build a cell, much less a complex human being or an Earth. God is not senile, he does not look like Santa Clause, and he knows best.

It took me so long to figure that out. I was fighting Him for so long, getting caught deeper and further in the cloud that was dragging me down, drowning me, the barbwire hooks cutting into my skin amidst my struggle and taking pieces of me with it, and all I needed to do was stand still and let Him gently remove me from the net. I remember a speaker at Camp Xroads a few years ago saying that lifeguards aren't allowed to save drowning people until they stop struggling for themselves and throw their hands up. That's when the lifeguards go in and do their thing. Enough said.

It's still a daily struggle, especially in the area of my relationship with others. I am only beginning to trust God, and my hand has not entirely reached his outstretched one. My current flavor of the week (haha. not.) is a Christian (!) and part of his appeal is that... well, that he's Christian. I never thought I valued that in a man very much, but it was only after I became interested in one that when I see Him running after God that I'm so... I don't know. Touched? Moved? Well, he's Christian, yes, and I'm told we would be great together - but I don't know if that's God's plan. A part of me is just tempted to say "Go screw yourself, God" and pursue him until I get him or get coldhardrejected ><. A part of me is scared that he's not for me, that God doesn't think he's right for me, and that He won't give him to me. And that scares me, because as of right now, I would really, really like to have this boy, especially as I know he used to like me and is still attracted to me. The old doubt is beating at the back of my mind - that God doesn't know anything and I should just do everything in my power to get this boy as I can - but you know, whatever happens is God's will anyway, and I can't fight it. I can squirm around and maybe win this boy and go HA! But God will say, "My will be done" and maybe laugh a little at my silliness. I have to sit back and let whatever's meant to happen, happen.

Because despite my baby steps, I'm still fighting in the water a little bit, trying to save myself, but it's gotten to the point where I'm only weakly flailing around and about to give in because I know that it's useless. Seeing Him work in my life and in other's lives fills me so much with awe. I see Him saving others, and I want to give up and let him save me. I want to fall on my face and wait for Him to dust me off and hold me and say it's okay, as I know in my head He will undoubtedly do. I just need to feel it in my heart now. It does come to my heart and soul, but erratically. It comes in pangs and bursts, unknowing tears pricking behind my eyes at random times, like worship during a particular line in a song, or when I pray for my family in China, or when the brothers and sisters are just all together and I see us all growing, seeking Him as one. When it does come, I feel... full. I feel like bursting, like overflowing with joy something unspeakable.

I want that all the time. I want to fall down and be picked up. I want to fall facedown.

That's all. It's late, and I have work tomorrow.

Let Your glory shine around,
chen | summer