Reflections from the life of a great man, and hopes for MY great man

Today, I attended the funeral of a man who made an incredible impact on my life. His name is Keith, and he's walking down streets of gold, talking to my Jesus.

The first time I went out of the country, I was on a mission trip to Grenada and Anguilla (West Indies) with Keith and his wife Roberta and 9 other girls (poor Keith). On that trip, I realized a few things.

1. People in other countries do not live as freely, luxuriously as we do in America.
2. Keith and Roberta love each other more than any couple I have EVER met.
3. Some other things that didn't hold true in the following years.

We traveled within three countries for 14 days, during which Keith preached at least once daily, and had to put up with 10 females constantly.

One night during the trip, Keith and Roberta sat all nine of us chit-chatty, giddy, silly girls down to tell us about true love and what makes a relationship last a lifetime. I will never, never forget that night and what they taught us.

Love is certainly not a Cinderella story and is never a happily ever after. It takes work and dedication. It takes two people who care enough about one another to put their partner above all else, but under God. It takes looking past imperfections and loving unconditionally - even if he eats his eggs with ketchup and it grosses you out (one of Roberta's pet peeves about Keith ... which we all thought was just adorable).

Sitting in the church this afternoon watching the family nod in agreement with the preacher and occasionally wipe a tear (they were all incredibly and admirably strong), I couldn't help but be thankful it wasn't me sitting in the front row listening to funny stories about my dad who had gone to be with Jesus. Don't get me wrong - my heart breaks for Roberta and her boys, and I wish we had Keith back in full silly-guy form, with a guitar strapped over his shoulder and a goofy grin on his face.

But when things like this happen to other people, it always makes me stop and realize how easily it could be me. I can't help but be thankful that my family is healthy and happy for now. And it makes me feel incredibly guilty for how upset I have been tonight over seemingly ridiculous things.

I've cried hysterically (no joke) from making myself upset over all the things "wrong" in my life: no car, no money, no job, no apartment, and other things that make me sad to the core. I cried even harder because I can't fall asleep and Mr. Man could not make it to my house to comfort me ... and I made him mad by being upset.

 It wasn't worth it. It wasn't worth getting myself so upset I'm nearly sick. It wasn't worth ticking Mr. Man off so much that he never wants to come over again. It wasn't worth being so involved in my own ridiculous problems that I forgot what Keith's family is going through tonight. The things of this world are not worth it. And in the past few years, I have forgotten what IS important.

I have also forgotten this:

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. - Romans 8:28

That's good stuff.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I am so self-centered and selfish, but I am. I hate it. There is so much more I want to be, and maybe - just maybe - if I were a little more selfLESS, a little more caring, a little more compassionate, a little less dramatic, a little less psychotic, a little more loving, a little less annoying ... I would be lovable.

The Lord loves me. I just hope someone else can, too.

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Maybe I'm the one, maybe I"m the one .. who is .. a schizophrenic psycho

I'm an emotional person. I mean, come on - I'm a girl, it's a given. But perhaps I cry more than others. It doesn't really make a difference.

But because I keep my heart out in the open and easier to get slashed and beaten, my hurt feelings and sadness are often mistaken for psychosis. I am not crazy. I am not a schizophrenic psycho.

I am also the kind of person who falls the hardest every..single..time. When I love someone, I love them with everything I have. I am certainly not perfect and I'm sure I am not the person I hope to be 100 percent of the time, but I am confident that I give my utmost to those that I love.

Those two qualities combined do not make for a great character analysis. Because I love deeply AND wear my heart on my sleeve, I get my feelings hurt often and can't keep what I'm feeling inside.

But what is most unfortunate about my situation is that I have yet to find another like me, who understands what I go through. Instead, the people I love hurt me and hate me for being upset. It's (I've been told) an annoyance.

I've tried, in past relationships, to stop caring. To not be bothered by the hurtful actions of those I love, and to most certainly not react in a way that exudes my frustration, sadness, hurt ....

What I found out was that when you stop caring, you do just that. You can't not care about how someone makes you feel and still care about the person. It's impossible. In fact, the frustration, the sadness, the hurt - these all come because you care for someone. Without the emotion, there is no love. At least not for me.

So I often come to a crossroads where I have to choose whether I want to continue caring for someone, or stop feeling like the psycho-babble annoyance I know I am. In the past, it hasn't been easy, but I've typically (okay, only once) chosen to stop caring. In the end, it worked out. You move on, you get over it.

But sometimes there are more things at stake than just a relationship or a legal document. Every now and then, things are worth more than to just give up. Even if it means tears and lots of journal pages. It's still worth it.

And that's just the way it is. There is no amount of crazy medicine or therapy sessions that will take away what I feel inside. I've come to accept that it's who I am, and how I love. It is unfortunate, I'll admit - for both myself and the recipient of my feelings. But how do you make those pangs go away? And would you want to?

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