I get it. But in a way, I don’t…

IMG_4833I get it. A&E censored a Christian from speaking his mind. It’s not the first time a Christian has been censored. It won’t be the last.

“Indeed, all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted…” 2 Timothy 3:12

I get it. It’s frustrating that everyone else in America can express their opinions, freely worship and denounce things they don’t believe in, unless you’re a Christian. In that case, the world wants you to be silent. But God never told us it would be easy. He flat out told us we would suffer.

“For it is better to suffer for doing good, if that should be God’s will, than for doing evil.” 1 Peter 3:17

I get it. The Bible says homosexuality is a sin. It says the same about drunkenness, adultery, fornication, gluttony, idolatry, jealousy, etc. etc. Everyone else’s sins seem so much worse than your own, don’t they? So you hate. You’re tired of rights being given to people who sin. You see these people as your enemies.

“But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” Matthew 5:44

I get it. I may not agree with you, but I get it. It’s ruined your week and maybe even your holiday to know that a Christian spoke his mind and was then persecuted for it. Now, your favorite television show might not be on the air anymore.

But I ask you this holiday season to open your eyes. Think about the things that are getting you fired up. Is it politics? Is it Obamacare? Is it A&E and Duck Dynasty? Is it Miley Cyrus? Think about the things that, as a Christian, make you the angriest. And then, think about these things:

InIMG_3875 September I met a little boy here in Uganda who survived child sacrifice. He’s been through multiple surgeries because his head was literally cut open with an ax. He was one of the lucky ones because he survived. Here in Uganda, witchdoctors sacrifice children. They spare no mercy when it comes to abducting a child, chopping them up for body parts and organs and leaving them for dead.

The other day I went with some co-workers to a local orphanage. The place is filthy. The playground is insanely dangerous. The orphans’ noses run with no one to wipe them. Bath time means fitting as many children in a tub at one time and hosing them down like they were dishes or something. Orphanages like this are all over the city of Kampala.

To the north of Uganda is South Sudan. So not only does the violence in South Sudan hit close to home because it’s literally close to home, but one of my best friends here is from South Sudan. She has family and friends there, and has to wonder each day whether or not they will fall victim to the violence.

I promised myself I wouldn’t do this. I wouldn’t be the one to say, “Look at what’s making you upset! And yet there are people dying because of such corruption and evil in the world!” But then I started to wonder… maybe that’s exactly what I’m supposed to do. Maybe part of the reason I’m here is to tell you about these things, to tell you that they are really happening.IMG_3976

As a Christian, what makes your blood boil? What gets under your skin? Is it the fact that your favorite reality television star was suspended? Are you going to let that ruin your day when there are people dying in South Sudan, children being sacrificed in Uganda, and orphans being treated like animals?

I’m not saying that it shouldn’t irritate you that Christians are so often censored and persecuted. I get it. It irritates me, too, but the Bible warned us about this, over and over again.

“Do not be surprised, brothers, that the world hates you.” 1 John 3:13

I get why Christians are upset about A&E. I get why homosexuals are upset about Duck Dynasty. I get it. But when I’m seeing the things I see here and experiencing the things I experience here, I really don’t get it.

Open your eyes. There’s so much more going on.

Not good enough for some, but good enough for One…

The maker of this beautiful Ugandan sunset loves me despite my many flaws.
The maker of this beautiful Ugandan sunset loves me despite my many flaws.

“Does he have a girlfriend now?”

My stomach did a flip-flop as I looked at the picture my friend sent me on Facebook. It was a picture of the guy who had a tight grip on my heart for more than two years… and his girlfriend. The guy who didn’t even want a girlfriend was looking as happy as ever in a selfie with a beautiful, petite girl by his side.

I once again realized what I knew all along: it wasn’t that he didn’t want a girlfriend; it was that he didn’t want me as a girlfriend.

It can be a tough pill to swallow. The thought that someone can be so attracted to you, enjoy your company so much, and can trust you with anything, but yet not love you in a romantic way, is quite a mystery.

I’ll never understand it. My friends will never understand why he and I had such chemistry and yet he didn’t want to be with me. It boils down to his selfishness and being shallow, and me not being the “ideal” woman for him to be seen with. He has admitted this.

I accepted the truth more than a year ago, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. And until August, I thought I had at least escaped the hurtful situation with a lifelong friend (silly me). Then some information was presented to me by a mutual friend, and I learned that even our friendship was a lie.

It’s all a reminder that people will hurt us. Not to say that you shouldn’t ever trust anyone, but you should never trust someone more than you trust God. You should never put all of your heart and soul into a person, only God.

For years I’ve allowed this guy to hurt me, to make me feel terrible about myself and to remind me that I’m not the poster child of the perfect-looking girlfriend. But guess what? I’m also not the poster child for the superstar Christian. I’m damaged, imperfect, flawed, defective… every word you can possibly think of that makes me not worthy of God’s love. He loves me anyway.

So while this guy from my past has made it clear that I’m not good enough to be his girlfriend, God has made it clear that I am a child of His and that He will always love me, no matter what. Only God’s love is perfect, and that’s all the love I’ll ever need.

“…nothing will ever separate us from the love of God…” Romans 8:39

Most orphans don’t have curly red hair and freckles…

orphan – (n) a child deprived by death of one or usually both parents

My entire life I’ve feared the death of my parents. No one has supported me more, loved me more, or taken better care283670_3138899200926_1422215904_n of me. The thought of one of them passing used to bring me to tears. It was also something that kept me from serving overseas where God was calling me, but I’ve found a peace within the last six months. I’ve had 32 amazing years with my parents. That’s much more than many people get.

In four days we leave for Zambia where we’ll be working with Lifesong for Orphans. My heart is already breaking for these children who have lost both parents, usually to HIV/AIDS. Can you even imagine? As if survival wasn’t tough enough in a place like Zambia, they have to face the world as orphans.

Not saying it’s any easier for orphans in America, but at least orphans here often have other family members that can take them in. Zambia has a life expectancy of around 49 years. There usually aren’t older family members to take care of the orphaned children.

Our typical view of orphans comes from movies like Annie. Wow did I love Annie, her curly red hair and freckles when I was a little girl. I listened to the soundtrack so many times that I wore out the tape. The movie also led me to believe that all orphanages were run by women like the alcoholic Miss Hannigan.

Luckily, that’s typically not the case. That’s definitely not the case at Lifesong for Orphans, where their motto is “Bringing Joy and Purpose to Orphans.” The people who work for the organization have dedicated their lives to making someone else’s life better- the orphans.

God couldn’t have been more clear in the Bible about how Christians should treat orphans:

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world.” James 1:27

7980_3138908681163_1818934831_nThere are many, many more verses in which God addresses the fatherless and how we should help them. Maybe that’s by sponsoring an orphan, visiting orphans, or financially supporting missionaries and mission trips… there’s something you can do to help.

I’m so glad Lifesong for Orphans brings the message to the Zambian orphans that they do have a Father in heaven who loves them very much. I can hardly wait to give them hugs with hopes that they’ll feel God’s love in the midst of my embrace.

Photos courtesy of Janeth Ibarra.

The curse of seeing someone’s potential…

1237608_trophy“Potential has a shelf life.”
– Margaret Atwood, Cat’s Eye

It’s typically thought of as a positive thing, to see the good in everyone. I am one of those people who instantly recognizes someone’s potential. In all honesty, it’s both a blessing and a curse.

If potential were a trophy, I see almost everyone I know carrying it. The problem is, not everyone is lifting that trophy up, some aren’t even looking at it, while others are kicking it around on the ground with no plans to ever pick it up.

Seeing the potential in people can be heartbreaking when they don’t reach that potential. It’s a dangerous road to travel when you see potential in the wrong people and when you let it consume you. I’ve experienced this heartbreak as a teacher and as someone who has been in relationships with guys who have so much “potential.” Right now I’m struggling with the latter.

Seeing potential in the opposite sex

Seeing someone’s potential as a future husband or wife can be very dangerous. Seeing what someone “could” be is so intensely different from what they actually are. When it comes to dating, I have learned that you must see someone for what they are at that present time.

I’m not saying you might not meet someone who just needs a little encouragement or support. I’m talking about the jerks, the players, the non-committers, or some other type of guy or girl who has qualities that make them a poor choice for a life partner. You can’t consider their potential. You must consider the present, and if it isn’t good, move on.

Potential… according to who?

There are two specific guys from my past that I have always believed have all the potential in the world, but they refuse to grow up. I see they have the potential to be two of the greatest guys in all of Fort Wayne, quite possibly all of Indiana or even the entire country, but both of them refuse to live up to this potential I see in them. They are nowhere near reaching their full potential as professional, beautiful, outstanding men on this planet!

They might not ever reach their full potential. But “potential” according to who?

According to me.

 If their potential is just my opinion, the only one they’re really disappointing is me. Why am I so concerned about them reaching what I think their potential is, especially when it’s only disappointing me? Probably because I love them both way too much. It’s not a situation of being “in” love or wanting to be with either of them, I just plain love these two guys with all my heart. When you love someone, you want them to succeed and be the best version of them they can possibly be.

Letting go of potential

If you’re like me and you see the great potential for someone who isn’t interested in reaching it, maybe it’s time to let it go. Pray for that person, but stop letting it tear you up inside that they aren’t what YOU think they should be. If someone doesn’t want to be a better person, that’s their choice. You can’t force them.

It’s a beautiful thing to be able to see people’s true potential, but I guess I need to just see that potential and then let it go. Otherwise, I’ll continue to fall for guys and their awesome potential, not who they really are.

What about your own potential?IMG_20130504_232645

I think people like me get so caught up in other people’s potential that we forget about our own. I’m sure if I asked God if I was living up to my potential, He would say I’m not. I imagine He would say no one is. Who knows, maybe there’s a guy out there who wishes I would live up to my potential.

If seeing someone’s potential is tearing you up inside, let it go. Spend more time worrying about your own potential. There’s a good chance you’re not reaching yours either.

Think I’ll stop drinking rat poison…

“Not forgiving is like drinking rat poison and waiting for the rat to die.”
– Anne Lamott

574986_poisonI have to be honest. I’ve been drinking a glass of rat poison every day for the past year or so. I’ve been waiting for the rat to die, but instead I’ve only been killing myself.

My spiritual gift is mercy, and I’m quick to forgive. We’ve all had to forgive people for hurtful, heartbreaking things they’ve done to us. But for some reason, there’s someone I just can’t bring myself to forgive.

It’s not the guy who broke my heart a few years ago after he claimed to love me and wanted to make me his wife someday. I’ve forgiven him. It’s not the guy who ripped my heart out of my chest repeatedly in most of 2012 and kicked it around, stomped on it and tore it to shreds. I’ve forgiven him.

It’s an ex-friend who deliberately deceived me for the year or so that we were close, close friends. It wasn’t one event that ended our friendship, it was more of a situation of, “I saw the light.” Others had warned me repeatedly that her motives are never, ever pure at heart. There’s always something in it for her. I didn’t see it at the time, but now I look back and see how incredibly manipulative she was with me- how our entire friendship was a lie.

Guys can be jerks. They break our hearts, that’s what they do. Our best girl friends? They are not supposed to break our hearts, but she broke mine. Once I learned many of the lies she had told me throughout our friendship, and the lies she told other people about me, I felt stupid. I felt like a fool.

Is it obvious yet that I am holding on to a lot of hate? I’ll be honest. I am. I couldn’t tell you anyone else on this planet who gets me more worked up than she does. I haven’t been able to forgive her. I can’t let go of that hate.

We are studying Joseph in the book of Genesis at Bible Study Fellowship. Last week we studied how Joseph forgave his brothers even after they tried to kill him, threw him in a pit, and eventually sold him into slavery. He forgave them because it was the right thing to do. It was what God wanted him to do.

941127_chained_loveI’ve felt chained up and trapped since the friendship ended. I read stories of people who forgave those who killed their family members or abused them. There’s no reason I should be holding on to this hate. No reason to not forgive her, even if she can’t see that she did anything wrong. I’m drinking the rat poison day after day expecting it to kill the rat, but it’s only killing me.

After Bible study I talked to one of the leaders about my situation. She suggested I pray for the ex-friend I can’t forgive.

Wait. What?

I flat-out told her, “I don’t want to pray for her.” 754548_lamb_of_god_1

She told me it’s not a matter of what I want to do. It’s a matter of obedience and what God REQUIRES me to do. If I pray for her, maybe I can eventually forgive her.

And it makes sense. Why on earth should God forgive me of my sins if I haven’t forgiven this person?

“And when you stand praying, if you hold anything against anyone, forgive him, so that your Father in heaven may forgive your sins.” – Mark 11:25

I’m done drinking the rat poison. I know I don’t have to like her, I don’t have to be friends with her or even talk to her, but I do have to forgive her. Hopefully I’ll reach that point by praying for her instead of holding on to all this hate.

It’s not about being judgmental…

“I smoke, by the way. I hope that’s OK.”1391828_untitled

It was the text that took my heart from, “Could this guy be my happily ever after?” to “Take care, it was nice meeting you.”

In November I went on a few dates with a guy who seemed pretty cool. I wouldn’t say we “totally hit it off,” but we certainly had a good time, and there was potential there. But then he let me know that he was a smoker. At first I thought he was kidding. There was no way this athletic coach was a smoker. Turns out, he wasn’t kidding.

I let him know that I don’t date smokers, and then before I knew it I was being called judgmental and that him being a smoker didn’t define him.

There’s a huge difference between being judgmental and knowing the habits you don’t want your boyfriend or future husband to have. I have friends who smoke, and while they know I worry about them for health reasons, I don’t think any of them would say that they feel I judge them.

557070_alcoholic_dream_Another example is drinking. I don’t mind a guy who drinks socially, but I do mind that guy who posts on his Facebook, “About to get WASTED tonight!” For me, that’s an insanely huge turn off. It doesn’t mean I am going to un-friend the guy and no longer speak to him, it simply means he’s not a guy I would want a relationship with.

I’ve noticed a few things this week in the opposite sex that I definitely don’t want in a mate. Some of my guy friends have these traits or habits, and they know I’m not judging (I’m also not trying to date them).

If someone doesn’t want to date you because you smoke, drink too much, have too much debt, or some other reason, it doesn’t always mean they are judging you. It just means you have some qualities they aren’t looking for in a mate. Respect that, and move on.

A letter to my 18-year-old self

18-year-old me
18-year-old me

I was thinking today about how my life as a 32-year-old woman is nothing like I imagined it would be. I wouldn’t ever want to know the future, and it’s not that I have any regrets, but if I could write a letter to my 18-year-old self, a girl just a few months away from graduating high school, this is what it would say:

Dear 18-year-old Natalie,

Things are exciting right now, aren’t they? You’re about to graduate high school and head off to Indiana Wesleyan where you will study art. You won’t be there long, but you’ll figure all that out, and it’s for the best.

There are some things I want you to know. I could tell you what’s going to happen to you, about your college career, the places you’ll move, the jobs you’ll have, the hearts you’ll break and those who will break your heart, but you need to experience that on your own.

What I want you to know is that things aren’t going to turn out like you think they will. That’s not a bad thing. Your family, friends, society… will all make you think that there’s a playbook of life and that it’s the same for everyone. They will make you think that there’s only one definition of success and happiness, but that’s not true.

You will not find happiness in a man, Natalie. You will try. You will try very, very hard, but there are other things in this life that will make you much happier. Don’t let anyone make you think that where you are in life isn’t “normal” or that there are things you are “supposed” to want.

God is going to use you to do things other people can’t do- in the same way He uses them to do things you can’t do. You have to trust that all your frustrations and hardships are leading up to something wonderful that God has planned for you.

Relax. Enjoy the ride. When you’re 32, you’re not going to be where you think you’ll be. Instead, you’ll be exactly where God wants you. And I can say with confidence… you’ll be the happiest, most confident, and most peaceful you’ve ever been.

All my love,
Your 32-year-old self

32-year-old me
32-year-old me

They just don’t know what to do with us…

It was a glorious Sunday morning when I walked into a potential church home. I was excited at the new friends I would meet, the great sermon I would hear and the spectacular worship I would experience. I was there by myself, of course, I was a single woman with no children.1308201_objects_of_propaganda

I looked to my right and saw a man in a suit with sunglasses on and a walkie-talkie. He looked at me and frantically muttered something into his walkie-talkie. I looked to my left and saw three other men in suits and sunglasses running towards me. Not knowing what to do, I ran down the nearest hallway only to be pulled into a dark room by yet another man in a suit and sunglasses. They shut the door, set me down at a table and put a spotlight on me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Well,” one of them said. “You’re single.”

“Yeah,” I said, not understanding what the problem was.

“This is church,” he said.

I was even more confused.

“We don’t know what to do with you,” the man said. “Single people in their 30’s scare us. We don’t know where to put you.”

“Could I start off by just going to church?” I asked.

They laughed.

“Who will you sit with?” one of then asked.

“Myself. It’s not social hour, I’m here to worship and learn,” I said.

“But then what? Then what do we do with you?” one of them said. “Where do we put you?”

“Well, is there a place for me?” I asked.

The men all shouted in unison, “No!”

“Can we create one?” I said.

They all just looked at each other before one of them spoke up. “It’s just easier if we ignore you.”

My heart broke, but I wasn’t surprised. It was the same story at every church I’d ever been to.

“We do have a women’s group!” one piped up. “It’s for ladies in their 30’s, just like you! They meet every Tuesday morning at 10 a.m.”

“I have a job.” I said.

“Well most of these ladies are stay-at-home moms. Don’t you want to be that?”

“No,” I said without hesitation.1379514_a_lonely_chair_on_white_background

The men were so baffled that they removed their sunglasses and rubbed their eyes.

“There has to be a place for me!” I screamed.

“We have a great college group,” one began.

“I’m 32. I’ve been out of college for 9 years,” I said.

“We’ve got a phenomenal group of singles who are divorced or widowed,” one spoke up. “They like to get together and talk about their hurts and how hard it is to move on.”

“I’ve never been married,” I said. “Can’t I just join a group that focuses on my relationship with Christ?”

No one said a word.

“Isn’t that what it should be about?” I asked.

Finally someone spoke up, “But we still don’t know what to do with you.”

“Would it be easier if I just left?”

“Yes!” they all said.

So I stood up, walked out of the room and out of the church. They just didn’t know what to do with me.

———————-

1354792_churchThere’s a spot for everyone at church, or so they say. But I think being a single person above the age of 30 is the worst thing to be at a church. Even a drug addict can walk into a church and people will know what to do- they will pray, help the person find addictions counseling, sign them up for Celebrate Recovery, and get them well on their way to a better life. You could be someone who just lost their entire family in a horrific shark attack and the church would know more what to do with you than it does with a single person.

Why do you think so few single people go to church? It’s because we don’t fit in. People think you aren’t married because you must be some sort of demonic person or partier, or that you have absolutely no social skills.

Women’s groups are all focused on being a wife or a mother, or both. Men’s groups are the same way, you’re a husband and/or a father. Churches have tried the whole, “people in their 30’s, no matter what their situation” type of groups, but they don’t work. It always turns into talks about being moms and dads. Plus then the women get catty when you have more in common with their husbands than you do the them. Sorry gals- I can’t talk breast feeding and potty training with you, but I can talk about last night’s IU game with your husbands, and it doesn’t mean I’m trying to steal them away from you.

I wish it would just be about God. I know small groups are intimate and women will share sdetails of their lives with each other- that’s to be expected. It just seems like so many groups are solely focused on being a spouse or a parent.

The church just doesn’t know what to do with us. I can’t say I blame them, and wish I knew of a solution. While my story above is obviously fictional, I have been told by multiple workers in various churches that they really don’t know what to do with us. This isn’t all in my head!

I’ve resorted to having my own Bible studies… with myself. I guess that’s fine, at least I’m getting spiritually fed. I just hope that maybe someday churches will figure out what to do with all of us crazy single people.

Meeting Mayrober

His picture jumped out at me right away. His giant brown eyes couldn’t be ignored, and I knew he was the one for me. “Mayrober” was his name, and he would be my sponsor child from Nicaragua.

That was a few months before I went to Terrencio, Nicaragua on a church mission trip, and many of us felt led to 200745_10150105570821573_4972463_nsponsor a child from the village through Food for the Hungry. All I knew about Mayrober at the time was that he was five years old and liked to draw. My heart danced when I got my first drawing from Mayrober, and I could hardly wait to meet the little guy on our trip.

When the day came that I would meet Mayrober, I was a little nervous. OK, I was horrified. For four months he had been a piece of paper, a beautiful picture of a child who lived worlds away in poverty. What on earth would I say to him? I knew some Spanish, but not a lot. There would be a translator, but still, what do you say to a five-year-old living in poverty? He doesn’t have a favorite television show or cartoon character. He doesn’t follow a basketball team or play video games. But aside from all of that, I was excited beyond words. Others in our group had met their sponsor kids the day before and had awesome stories about how the kids jumped into their arms and thanked them for writing and sponsoring them. I was so excited for my “moment” with Mayrober!

207828_10150151374481573_3642730_nWhen we arrived at Mayrober’s home he was sitting in a plastic chair outside. Their home was like a hut- it had some sort of roof made of random materials and a couple of walls made of sticks. Mayrober’s mother stood behind and the translator introduced us all. Mayrober didn’t jump into my arms, he didn’t even smile.

Mayrober looked at me like a scared child looking at Santa. He just looked at me and didn’t even blink. It was like he was trying to figure out if he wanted to cry or run away.

“Hola Mayrober!” I said. “Como estas?”

He just looked at me.

I looked at the translator and he said something to Mayrober in Spanish. He still just sat there, but his mom tapped his shoulder as if to say, “Answer her!”

He whispered a tiny, “Bien,” meaning he was doing well.

That’s how the next ten minutes went. I would ask a question, he wouldn’t resond, his mom would make him, and he would have a one word answer. 215199_10150151374606573_4561465_n

I wanted a picture, but Mayrober was afraid. His mom had to pick him up and put him beside me. I went to put my arm around him and he leaned away from me. It was official: my sponsor child hated me.

When I got back to the bus where everyone on our mission team was waiting, they were so excited to hear about my experience. I told them how terrible it was, and they tried to make me feel better by saying he was younger than their sponsor kids, that he must just be really shy, etc. etc., but I was still heartbroken. On the drive away from the village and back to Managua, I got tears in my eyes wondering why things went so poorly.

A few days later was the final day of Vacation Bible School that we were leading in the village. I was assigned the job of helping the kids make paper bag puppets. We had crayons, pipe cleaners, googly eyes and all sorts of things the kids could glue on their paper bags. Seems like a simple craft, but these kids looked like they had never seen or done anything so fun and amazing. They were in heaven making their puppets.

With only about 20 minutes left, I saw Mayrober walk into the “classroom.” He saw me and kind of smiled but then noticed that all the seats were taken… except one at the front of the classroom, right beside me where I was hanging out glue sticks.

207426_10150151390566573_1671953_nThere were three or four of us helping in the room, and I’ll be honest, the moment Mayrober got there, all my attention was on him. I was glad I remembered the Spanish words for eyes, nose, mouth, face and hair so I could help Mayrober decorate his puppet. After each part of the face he would look at me like, “What next?”

It was my happiest moment of the trip, to be sitting next to him, helping him make his puppet and seeing him smile.

He hung around with me even after the puppet-making class. Everyone was to go over to the village church after activities, and Mayrober walked with me. I knew it was the perfect opportunity for a much better picture than the one we’d taken a few days earlier. Sure enough, Mayrober had no 216075_10150149305886573_3381294_nproblems giving a big smile as I put my arm around him for a picture. We were buddies now, and he knew there was nothing for him to be afraid of.

You always see these kids on television, the ones who have no home, barely any food and live in poverty. I can’t vouch for other organizations, but I can say that Food for the Hungry is legit. The money you pay for your sponsor child helps the entire community.

I also learned that the money is only half of the impact you can have on a sponsor child. They love hearing from their sponsors back in the US! I’ve gotten endless drawings from Mayrober, and I love writing to him. Food for the Hungry takes care of the translation both ways.

Meeting Mayrober was one of the greatest experiences of my life and I will continue to support him for as long as the program allows (until he is 18). I write to him, support him, and pray for him. While things didn’t start off the best between us, I am so happy that we eventually got to spend some time together and that he was genuinely happy to meet me.

208432_10150151390671573_7490252_n

Heart on a String

Wrote this poem a few years ago. I’ll just leave it at that.heart

Heart on a String

Not easy to acquire, this heart inside my chest.

I made you work harder, harder than all the rest.

Life had showed me that my heart is a precious, precious thing.

But even if I gave it away, I’d keep it on a string.

I’d keep it there so I could yank it back, if it ever came to that.

You could have turned out to be a liar, a psycho or even a rat.

But something strange happened, something that’s never happened before.

Even though I gave you all of my heart, I found myself wanting to give you more.

So then I did something crazy, an absolutely unthinkable thing.

I handed you my heart… and I also gave you the string.

My heart was easy to give back, you gave it back to me with ease.

Now you won’t return the string, but I’m begging you to do it- please!

Things are the worst they can be, because you hold that string.

That string, much more powerful than my heart; it’s really a peculiar thing.

Because while my heart tries to move on, while I try to get away,

You lightly tug on the string with the confusing things you say.

If I were strong enough to break the string, I’d do it without question.

I’d have my heart back with its string and you could have no objection.

But now I sit, with just my heart, and the sad songs it begins to sing.

What use is a heart that needs to heal, when you still hold the string?

It’s not very useful, not at all, because all it does is make me blue.

It yearns for love, it pleads for affection, and only yours will do.

Because this game of my heart on a string, totally controlled by you,

It’s only making life impossible; it’s breaking my heart in two.

Perhaps you’re holding on, you hope to get it back someday.

That would be the ultimate reward- for that is what I pray.

It’s unfair to give me back my heart but still you hold the string.

Not asking for a wedding, not even asking for a ring.

A few choices are in front of us, I pray you decide what I think you should.

Say you’ll hand me the string on my heart, or take back my heart for good.