Waitng For Godot…


One of my favorite plays seems to be about absolutely nothing, but when I read it I got so much meaning from it.  Waiting For Godot by Samuel Beckett is about two days in the lives of two men, who are waiting.  They are waiting for someone named Godot, whom they hardly know.  In the time they wait they eat, sleep, even think of suicide -“to hold the terrible silence at bay.”  I have related myelf to these two me for a very long time.  I have been waiting.  As a child, I waited for other kids to ask me to play, I waited for my mother to be happy, I waited to be happy,  and today I am still waiting….  Not to say I haven’t tried, but have I really tried as much as I could, have I really put in the effort it takes to have a life worth living, or am I just sitting around waiting like these two men, for this external force to come into my life and save me.  Tonight was especially difficult, the monsters in my head were acting up and I could not bear the pain alone.  So, I did something I have done before but the result was different.  If you read my blog “Dear God”.. you may know the story, me drugged up running to the rectory to get some help from a priest , only to be told they were too busy.  However, I tried again tonight, I stopped waiting and went to God… different church.   Shivering in the cold and rain, I knocked on the rectory’s door.  A  sweet elderly woman answered the door, who immediately let me in to speak with a deacon.  Thinking I was going to get some lecture about how I have sinned and must confess, which is what I am used to by the Catholic church, I began crying.  Sitting across from me, without even hearing my story he began speaking.  “You’re suffering, you’re in pain.”  “I have been there.” SHOCK. A man of God was suffering and in pain?  He told me of his life’s struggle with heroin, cocaine and crack addiction, of his alcoholic father, and physically and verbally abusive mother.  I could not utter a single word, I could only weep.  How could this man, who is a messenger of God, who we go to to pray with, who we look  up to, revere, see him as almost a Supreme being have been a drug addict?  “Whatever, they have labeled you as, Borderline etc… I probably have it”, he said.  “But, I’m telling you there’s hope.” ( For some reason this scared me, and I’ll get to that later on.)  He asked me if I believed in God. “NO”  “Why not?”  “If there was a God, why would I be suffering so?” “Why me?”  “Why not?” he answered.  This went on for about ten minutes.  I gave up. I taked very little and listened closely.  “I grew sick and tired of the way I was living  my life, it’s all I knew, but I’m telling you there’s a different way.”  Again I got scared.  “O.K” I said. “How?”  “I just surrendered.” he answered.  “I had no ties with religion, but I was so desparate, I surendered to God, and little by little asked Him to come into my life.”  “How?” again I asked, still skeptical and afraid.  “It’s simple, humans make it complicated just tell Him, God I can’t do it anymore and open the door to Him.”  Still, in my agnostic head I wanted to believe badly there was a magic door, all I had to do was open t up and all the pain would be gone, but I still couldn’t understand and I still don’t.  He asked me to pray with him and I tried to say the Our Father, I began, but then I just began sobbing.  I’m not sure why, but all I could do was sob as he prayed and I mouthed the words. I think I sobbed because I had said that same prayer as a child so many times, and nothing had ever changed, God had not listened.   He handed me his card after about two hours of speaking to him and told me I had a friend.  I’m not sure how to practically follow his advice, but I know I have to.  After, I left, walking home in the rain and cold I felt a burden lifted off of me, however I also felt fear.  You see, I have ben waiting, waiting for things to change, yet they are in my power to change them aren’t they?  And, I am afraid for waiting around is all I know , Godot has not come, he is not coming and I must accept this and stop waiting.  Hope is a good thing, but it is also a scary thing.  What do you do when you are finally able to face the world, where is my path taking me, how can I handle a life worth living?  I am as hopeful tonight as I am scared and I’m not sure which is worse….

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