Living in Grey

I've always liked spelling the word "gray" with an "e" rather than an "a."

I have no idea why. Something about it must suggest more grey-ness to me: something a bit foggier, something that throws people off a bit, that makes you look twice. Something that's not so predictable.

Yes, something like that.

Because isn't that what grey is, after all: half black, half white; the in-between; the blur; the fog?

And now, suddenly, we're not talking about a color (though I suppose we weren't to begin with, anyhow). Now we're talking about life. We're talking about uncertainty and fear; mental and emotional fogginess; unpredictable futures and seemingly unbearable present.

And now we're uncomfortable. At least, I am.

I don't tend to like living in grey, though I pretend I do sometimes, because I pretend to be "perfect at life," even though that's impossible, and even though I'd really rather not be perfect, or even try to be... *headdesk*

Anyway.

I don't like it when everything's uncertain. I don't like having people ask me questions like, "What are you doing after you graduate?" or "Do you think you'll ever be on Broadway?" or even "What do you want to do for dinner?" Hmm. Extremes, much? I suppose that last one is purely indecision... but the point is that I don't like open-endedness.

Does anyone, really? Does anyone like feeling like they're free-falling through life? Does anyone like it when the rug is pulled out from under you? When a job you were counting on falls through, or when someone dies unexpectedly? Or even the good things: does anyone like it when there are a million different options available, but there's no clear indicator as to which you should take? When all you have are open doors, and you don't know which is best to go through, or if you'll regret choosing to step through one rather than another?

At one point in my journey, I may have said that specific times in life are more grey than others. There are times that are "easier," in a way (at least for me): when decisions seem black and white, virtually made for you; when everything, or at least the important things, seem neat and orderly; when, in those rare and beautiful times, everything goes according to plan -- your plan. The times, however, when it feels like Jesus has asked you to jump off of a cliff, and you can't see far in front of you (whether that's a few years or a few minutes) -- those are the times that feel grey. They feel foggy and abyss-like, dark and unclear, with only the glimmer of a light flickering somewhere within the shadows.

Just because they feel grey, though, does that mean that they actually are? Are parts of our lives actually less certain and more insecure than others? Or do we merely think that they are?

Hello, philosophically minded self.

But really. Aren't we often in grey areas of life when we find ourselves outside our comfort zones? Aren't we most vulnerable, most worried, most fearful when circumstances in our lives seem absolutely out of our control -- whether for the (seeming) better or worse?

Aren't things most grey when our expectations don't come to fruition?

They may be expectations of a 5-year plan, expectations of a relationship, expectations of a job or a future you'd always planned for, or a specific emotional state (or lack thereof), or even a particular spiritual "goal" or "level" (whatever that means). When those expectations don't fulfill themselves, though -- or even when we don't fulfill them -- we find ourselves in the grey.

This isn't to say that all expectations are bad. It wasn't wrong for me to expect to graduate from the same college at which I began my studies. It wasn't wrong for me to hope for a phenomenal freshman experience. None of that happened, of course, but it wasn't a bad thing to expect any of it -- to hope for that, to plan on it.

The thing that did happen when I found myself miserable, depressed, and spiritually attacked, and when I later found myself sliding a withdrawal form across a Cloroxed office counter, feeling like I was signing my life away, was that I found myself in new territory. It was grey territory, yes, but that demanded action. It demanded change. It demanded me to change.

I'd defined a world in black and white for myself. And yes, I'd liked that, because I thought I had control over everything, and I thought I knew what life was going to look like (at least for three or four years)... but that was so limiting. I was confined to that three or four year plan, because I thought I wanted to be. When it came down to it, though, I couldn't really control what was black and white. It was all grey anyway, whether I wanted it to be or not. I started college with a three-and-a-half-year plan on paper, but that changed in a matter of months. I tried to talk myself out of depression....

HA. Yeah, that worked really well. *rolls eyes*

I still don't really like living in the grey, but I suppose I've come to realize that I am living in the grey whether I want to admit it or not. And honestly, I suppose that's freeing more than anything. Living in the grey means accepting the question marks, letting Jesus lead, and doing my best to follow a step at a time. If I attempt to live in black and white, in clarity other than that which He gives me... I'm merely taking the reigns back, saying that I can do it better, limiting my options... and enslaving myself.

Ouch.

And again, I don't think that means throwing caution and dreams and plans to the wind. I think it's more a realization that I'm not in control of this life -- at least, that I don't want to be. What He's got planned is much better. When the Wind blows and leads me in a different direction than I'd anticipated... shouldn't that be exhilarating more than terrifying (though it certainly may be both)? He's proven Himself trustworthy time and time again, has He not?

Living in the grey is living with open hands, open ears, open heart. It's living in perpetual adventure, whether that adventure leads us to a small-town community college we swore we'd never attend or to the middle of the mountains in Africa. Sometimes He'll do both in a year. (Hahahaaa!)
Hm. Sometimes I forget these things...

I rather like adventuring with You, my Love.

Lead me into the grey.