Promise me

 Often:

Promise me “you’ll be good,” says one.

Promise me “you’ll stay,” says the other.

Promise me “you’ll always be mine,” they say in unison.

 

Instead,

Promise me you’ll be you.

Promise me you’ll be true

to you

and to me

And not to whom you think

I desire you to be

Promise me you’ll stay true to what you intend to be true

Promise me you’ll only make promises you sincerely intend to keep

Promise me.

Will you?

I will, too.

I promise.

~~~~

Tomorrow is not promised.

Today is all we’ve got.

And that is everything.

For your consideration:

What about “broken promises”?  Are they based on unrealistic expectations, wishful thinking, both, or neither?

I know for me, an unfulfilled promise hurts more than no promise at all.

Like most every child growing up in Southern California, I fantasized about going to visit The Magic Kingdom…Disneyland.  We did get to go when I was really little, and I was “too short to ride the rides,” as the signs said in front of the line for all the ‘big kid’ rides that my older brothers got to go on without me.

As I got a little older and a little taller, nearly every year, at some point, I would tug on my dad’s shirt sleeve and pester him with “please Dad, can we go to Disneyland again soon, can we, can we?” I believe my father did desire to make me happy, and sometimes, as I know now, he would say what I wanted to hear, without giving much thought as to whether it was likely to actually happen.

One time in particular, I remember when my dad announced to the family: “Yes, we are going to Disneyland,” and we set the date.  I practically squealed with glee and leaped with joy.  I counted down the days, imagining all the fun rides we’d ride at the amusement park, and how I’d get to have my picture taken with Pluto and maybe even Goofy, my favorite.

On the morning of the day that we were supposed to jump in the car and head out to Disneyland, I eagerly asked my dad what time we needed to be ready to leave. I was antsy with anticipation.

Engraved in my memory are these words in his reply:  “Oh, Lori, we’re not going to Disneyland today.”

He didn’t provide a reason why.  He dismissed the promise, and me, as quickly as I had asked the question.

I slumped down into my dejected heart and glumly walked back into my room without a spark of joy left in me.

I didn’t know what to believe.

So:

What if we were to commit to making promises from a place of what’s truly true? What if we made the decision to embody that promising promise now, and to carry it through…for ourselves and for all concerned?

Okay, your turn:

When have you felt the impact of a broken promise?  What does it mean for you to make a promise?

I invite you to share your thoughts, feelings, and experiences in the Comments section, below. Soul-to-soul!

© 2019 Lori A. Noonan. All Rights Reserved.