“…We are going steady.”
I have to remind myself of that sometimes, because some other times, like now, I just want to take a deep breath and say this to a certain someone out there in five seconds flat: “HeyguyIreallylike,Ithinkyou’reamazing.Wannagoout?”
Sometimes, like now, I am just soooooooo tempted to just ask or do something–anything!–to let him know I like him. Sometimes I just want to send him that first “Hey, thinking of/praying for you” text or chat. Sometimes, I just want to find out if he likes me the same way, too.
Sometimes I actually slip a little. I might smile too much at him when we’re talking. I might laugh a little too hard at something hilarious that he said. I might pay extra attention to what he’s saying and forget that there are other people in the room with us. I might let my eyes flicker towards where he is a little too much. I’m pretty sure that he’s already caught me staring too many times.
Let me just slap myself away from these silly thoughts. Argh.
I remember coming out from Sunday School when I was 12, and there was a 15-year-old boy (that I actually really liked in secret) who had just asked me privately if it was okay that he liked me. I told him nonchalantly that it was okay, making sure he did not find out through my actions and facial expressions that I actually liked him back.
I told no one of this as I met with my parents and brothers again to go home, but after one look at my face in the rear-view mirror, my dad stopped the car, turned around, and asked me, “Alright, little girl. Who is he?”
“W-what?” I stammered and tried to feign innocence.
He sighed, “Your eyes–they’re sparkling again. I know something’s up when your eyes are extra sparkly.”
Twelve years later, and I’m pretty sure that my eyes are still an open book. I just can’t seem to keep any emotion concealed, especially when I am really excited or really passionate about certain things (or people).
Emotion and passion: they worked well for me back when I used to be on the debate team, in public speaking competitions, and in the theatre group. I could sway an audience with how passionately I spoke, whether it was about abortion, education, or a tiny piece of bread. I could hold an entire roomful of people’s attention for fifteen minutes and at the end everyone would be holding in their breaths at the sight of me portraying a dead Jewish girl. I was dramatic on stage, and timid off the stage. But my eyes never changed character: they always lit up at the smallest things.
Emotion and passion, I found in my late teen years, are my hamartia. My fatal flaw, my one great weakness. I have seen them try my character so many times. I have seen them go against my upbringing, my morals, my beliefs, and most importantly, my faith.
Over time, God has been teaching me that while I am passionate, I must learn to channel my passion into something for His glory. Pursuing an acting career would have pointed all glory to myself, and it would have taken away Sundays because of endless rehearsals and shoots. Emotion, while God-given, must be kept under submission. It must not take first place, and it must not rule over our mind. Expressed too much, and emotion will bring chaos.
Passion and emotion are both beautiful things. But as powerful as they are, they are also fragile and weak. They can so easily shatter on the floor as little balls of glass. They are a weapon that can turn on the wielder as easily as they can be used. They are unstable little bombs that can blow up because of too much “spark.” Emotion and passion, dealt at the right time, is beautiful. But too much at the wrong time will bring destruction to one’s self.
I remind myself of this verse every time I feel great urges to express myself, especially nowadays, to “confess my love” (LOL joke) to a certain someone a few of you might know: “Casting down imaginations, and every high thing that exalteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ.”
“Steady, my heart, steady. We are going steady,” I tell my passionate heart.