The prophecy

When I was in my twenties and crushing on some guy, I went to the fortune teller to ask if I would ever hook up with this guy. She seemed slightly amused by my question but she was dead serious with her answer. “But you don’t really want this guy,” she told me. I sat there, puzzled.

And then I asked her another question. Would I get accepted to this program that I had applied for abroad? Once more, she looked at me and said, “But you don’t really want to do this.” I remember thinking why she thought she knew better than me.

But she actually did. I didn’t get to hook up with that guy. And I didn’t get accepted to that program that I had applied for. It was only many years later though when I realized she was absolutely right—I didn’t really want that guy or that program abroad. I just thought I did.

Today, I sit here, mulling about my future as foretold to me three decades ago. She said a lot of stuff—many of which have been realized. Still, I chose, for decades, to forget the parts that had not yet come true because I didn’t want them to come true.

I went to see a fortune teller in my youth to know the future. But what good would that have brought me to know what was to be? I guess, even then, I wanted full control of everything in my life--including and especially my future.

I don’t even believe in the horoscope. I only ever read the horoscope when I’m desperate (which translates to thinking I’m in love). And that’s how I found myself in front of a fortune teller three decades ago.

I was distraught for many years after seeing her. I had asked her a lot of questions and her answers didn’t paint a picture of the future I had envisioned for myself. And then she told me something especially horrific—at least to my young mind.

For many years, I lived in dread of this prophecy until I successfully buried it deep into my mind. After surgery last year, though, the memory of this prophecy came back to haunt me—almost making me feel like it was my head they had operated on instead of my kidney.

I was not old enough to understand the prophecy when it was revealed to me but now that I am old enough to understand it, I can’t say I am any less terrified. It has not yet come true. I wait in terror for its fulfillment. Of course she could be wrong. But so could I. Maybe it is nothing to be terrified about.

Is it the prophecy I fear? Or is it my inability to control it from happening that terrifies me?

Now that I am in my fifties, I no longer believe in fortune tellers. I believe in God. Perhaps, God is sending me a message. Perhaps, He is telling me that it is time to let go—time for me to relinquish control of my fate to Him. I say I don’t want the prophecy to come true. God says, based on my track record, I don’t really know what I want.

Thy Will be done.

Is it the prophecy I fear or is it my inability to control it from happening that terrifies me?