“Nothing can be necessary that he withholds”
Last Friday, I listened to Taylor Swift’s 1989 for the entire 9-hour drive from Denver to Kansas City. Collectively my favorite record I’ve heard in ages, it just might have the power to pull me out of athletic retirement and train for another half marathon. Running would probably be good for me, seeing as how these days I’m wound as tight as a guitar string one pluck away from snapping up and whipping you in the eyeball.
In the past month, I’ve been in a lot of airports – Denver, Minneapolis, Austin, Atlanta, Kansas City, Chicago, Rochester, and Baltimore, to be exact. Between work and my far-flung family and friends, I travel more than the average person – and I’ve found that the only way I can survive the aggravation of airline travel is to wear earplugs at all times. Not ear buds – I don’t want music. No, I want to drown out everyone and everything, even at the risk of appearing rude to my fellow passengers. Oh, you just introduced yourself? UNACKNOWLEDGED. You’ll get over it one day.
But despite the irritation, airplanes get me where I want to go – which, this weekend, was upstate New York for 24 hours. While I’ve been a bridesmaid more times than I have fingers, “godparent” is a new role for me – and there was no way I was going to miss Colin’s baptism. He is 6 months of chubby, flirtatious perfection, and I’m honored beyond words that his parents would choose me.
When the service was over and the reception was in full swing, I stole away to the edge of Will and Miranda’s dock on Seneca Lake. Their property is beautiful – it’s been in Will’s family for generations – and I needed to be by the water. At the risk of sounding all woo-woo, water affects me spiritually. It cracks my hard heart wide open. It’s a shame that Denver is so landlocked.
There on the dock, I thought about the stories that the majority of my friends are living, and how different mine is turning out to be. I tried to tell myself that it’s okay, I’m okay, that not having a family of my own is actually far less complicated and I should be happy for the simplicity of my little life. After all, as some well-meaning friends have told me, it’s dangerous to love someone so deeply – because then you have so much to lose.
Well. I’ve never been divorced. But I’ve never been married. I have never lost a child. But I’ve never had a baby. Hope unrealized brings with it its own invisible grief, one that doesn’t fit into an obvious category, the kind that solicits cards and casseroles. Could it be that things that haven’t happened can hurt as badly as things that could?
Because it’s one thing for all of your friends to get married. It’s another when they start having kids. It’s entirely another when they decide to be finished having kids… and you’re not sure if you’ll even start.
I know, cue the sob fest and the weeping ovaries. Except.
Here’s what I’m discovering: joy is found in connection, and connection comes in all sorts of forms. I might not be a wife, but I’m a friend who can and will hop on a plane at a moment’s notice to fly across the country. I might not be a mom, but I’m an auntie, and a dog lover, and now a godmother. I’m a daughter and a sister. I’m a hard worker who cares about the well-being of the people I work with. I’m a writer and a wanderer and a hoper and a dreamer, and damn it, I want to be one who celebrates the things worth celebrating, even if they’re not happening to me.
And until those celebrations are my own, I’m clinging to John Newton’s words: “Everything is necessary that [God] sends; nothing can be necessary that he withholds.”
Given that, I’m really thankful that God has sent Foxy Brains and Colin Warder and Southwest Airlines and red wine and Taylor Swift.
share:
tags: Annie Parsons | Babies | Colin Warder | Denver | Emotions | Family | Geneva NY | Grief | Life | Miranda Warder | Quotes | Relationships | Taylor Swift
Beautiful and wise and yes.
“Could it be that things that haven’t happened can hurt as badly as things that could?”
Yes. A thousand times yes. I love you, and your excellent words on this difficult subject. And I will never stop praying for the fulfillment of all the longings of your heart.
You are an amazing writer and all-around incredible person…and gifted writer. I hope that as you pass down I-70 next time you remember that you have friends in Manhattan, KS. :)
Thanks for sharing these thoughts Annie. You hit the nail on the head for a lot of us. (Sorry for the cliche!) Congratulations on becoming a godmother!
Annie, this was such a beautiful huge piece of your heart. I am sure plenty of wonderful things are working their way to you.
In my own city, for my own reasons, feeling an ache with you and reaching for that high flung hope.
Love you AP. You sure make a beautiful godmother.
I feel you so whole-broken-heartedly. I know the pain you describe. I was 34 when I finally got married. That’s a solid 14 years watching friends and family get married and start having kids. Now, having lost the boy who taught me how deep and profound love can actually be had been taken from me in a violent way. I can’t fathom having a child of my own. It was my life’s dream. Not anymore. I’m paralyzed by pain. I hope I can find a way to be hopeful sometime. Life is far too constant.
Love you, kindred.
Really enjoyed reading this, so much truth and a reminder to be compassionate and gentle with each other…faith and desire can be so hard to reconcile!
“Could it be that things that haven’t happened can hurt as badly as things that could?”
YES
Brave and Beautiful.
Much love…xoxo
Once again amazed how you can take thoughts out of my own head and put words to them that I’ve struggled to find.
“Hope unrealized brings with it its own invisible grief” puts the most accurate and realistic set of words to feelings I’ve so deeply experienced. Thank you for giving me a way to explain them.
Always wise, never alone.
Thanks Annie.
I needed this. Thank you. I’ve often thought to myself that perpetual singleness is its own form of infertility…. however I’m hesitant to go around saying that as to not be insensitive to those with an actual medical condition. You found a way to say what I have felt with so much eloquence. Thank you.
Beautiful. And on a really deep note, your hair looks awesome.
Hope unrealized… is an amazingly hard thing. And I’m right there with ya. Thank you for putting this into words so perfectly.
I never know what to say when all I have is the nodding of my head, over and over and over. So many of the same thoughts and emotions have been running through my mind and heart recently. Thank you for tacking on encouragement and hope…
Still my favorite blogger in life!
-MJ
This was deep, Annie. Colin is one blessed godson.
You have the most beautifully fragile heart. What bravery for you to confront unmet desires and share with us. You know that Paul thinks you are better off single – -more wholly devoted and purpose driven (but I get the idea in general he enjoyed suffering)
These words ring very true for me too right now, Annie. Thanks for sharing. I too am praying for the peace and trust evident in Newton’s words and for the grace needed to look beyond and above self-pity and love others well, through all life’s stages.
“When the service was over and the reception was in full swing, I stole away to the edge of Will and Miranda’s dock on Seneca Lake. Their property is beautiful – it’s been in Will’s family for generations – and I needed to be by the water. At the risk of sounding all woo-woo, water affects me spiritually. It cracks my hard heart wide open.” You are my sister, which I have known for some time, now. Blessings to you and the little one and his parents. It is an honor and a responsibility, this thing called love. Such a beautiful post, dear Annie. I’m sorry I gush all the time…it is the way I am. But you are so special, and I want you to see what we see in you. Obviously I am not alone is this *looks heavenward*
Right there with you, my friend.
HI Annie,
Thank you for putting into words what I feel – it helps to read others feel these same feelings.
Thank you for continuing to write and put your feelings out for others to find solace in.
Christine Crowe
Love you, Annie. So glad to have ridden with you to the Loveless and get to know you a crack. Love your beautiful photo. So happy for you! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VU_rTX23V7Q
Love the song at the link. Hope it works. Called Who Am I. Hope you do too.
[…] Nothing Can Be Necessary That He Withholds. “Hope unrealized brings with it its own invisible grief, one that doesn’t fit into an […]
Whoa whoa, thanks for making my brain explode. I needed this today.
[…] “Nothing can be necessary that he withholds” […]
I love everything about this post and am shouting Amen from NC! Thank you for being open, real and honest! And as for the new Taylor Swift album…it is a keeper!
Here is a wonderful teaching on whether we “hope for” or “hope in”, or living with the tension of both. The woman speaking, Gayll Phifer-Houseman, is very funny, wise, practical and honest. Thought you might find some value in it. Love your courage and laser-like ability to express what all of us spend time trying to talk ourselves out of. http://www.the-river.org/sermons/the-gift-of-hope/