Friday, August 18, 2006

People Don't Change

"Nina, Nina I'm worried about Anna. She's not youthful. She came into the world in such an extraordinary way. I think she used up all her magic in the way that she came. Nina, promise me you'll tell Anna to do something extraordinary before I die."

There is a lie that we are told. The devil tells it to us because he knows we will listen with greedy ears. There is a lie that we are told, and in turn, we tell the world.

People don't change.

As I have mentioned before, I am reading this book, Captivating. Three years ago, I would have received little from these pages, but it is not three years ago. Three years ago I was alive. I believe that I turned into this machine like so many other women. I am not soft, feeling, pleasant, or lovely. Nothing that God envisioned as He crafted woman, as He sculpted her body and stitched secrets into her heart, the mysteries he hid for her lover to discover. I am driven, cold, demanding much from the world and even more from myself. I feel sloppy, not sculpted, I toss my secrets to the wind and mock the mysteries of my heart. I guess this is just who I am. People don't change.

Stasi Eldredge writes, "The curse of Eve and all her daughters cannot be limited only to babies and marriage. . . the meaning is much deeper and the implications are for every daughter of Eve. Woman is cursed with loneliness (relational heartache), with the urge to control (especially her man), and with the dominance of men."

Everyday I am softer. I let myself feel my loneliness and my urges to control, my anger and my doubt, because they are mine to feel. I feel like I am marinating, how cheesy and weird to describe it that way, but it is true. I feel the curse like a wave, but instead of indulging in it, I wait it out because I do not deserve to burst out in anger or seize control. These are things that just happen and are not me. It is funny now, they feel like my panic attacks because I see them as something with no true legitimate cause, just something that happens that I must ride out. Ask Miss Peligra about San Francisco, she was lucky enough to witness my first triumph over this rage.

"Anna you can't come with me. You were right."

"No Danny I was wrong. Listen! My mother told me to do something extraordinary and look! I'm standing here at a train station like some character in one of her Russian novels. Take me with you!"

"You don't even know where I'm going! Anna, this is passion, passion makes you do stupid things but it won't last, I should know!"

"Danny what have I done to you, you sound just like me."

Sometimes I think it is so immodest of me to write my feelings out like this, for anyone to see. But it feels good right now, and I'm doing what I feel for a change. And speaking of change, the devil doesn't lie when he says people don't change, he simply takes the truth out of context.

People don't change. . . people, God changes people.

We never shut up long enough to hear the whole sentence.

Dialogue is from the 1997 film Music From Another Room. A movie whose ending I knew within the first five minutes, but watched every sappy moment anyway and cried when Anna and Danny kissed at the end. . . to the song Truly Madly Deeply of course. I know, but it felt good.

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