Once upon a time there was this guy …
I met him in the fall during my junior year of college, and
to this day I believe it was fated. It was a Sunday afternoon at a church
picnic, and though our series of interactions that day were awkward and
peculiar, our fellowship didn't end as the picnic did. We went for a cup of
coffee and spent three hours talking, laughing, and enjoying the company of the other.
Even though I didn't fully know him yet, I remember thinking
that this man was amazing. (Spoiler: He is
amazing).
It didn’t take long for us to hit it off, and we became
great friends. After a few months of pursuance and patience on his end, we
officially became a couple. Our relationship held its own difficulties and
issues as any relationship does, but it was ultimately wonderful. We seemed to
have the perfect blend of similarities and differences that we were able to be
compatible, yet interestingly unique.
We had fantastic conversations- spiritually, politically, romantically- and we both have a childlike spirit that gave us a host of laughs
and fun memories. He challenged me in
ways, as I challenged him in others. He brought out the best in me, and I
brought out the best in him. We were the kind of opposites that we thought were
perfectly complementary, and more than anything else we may have been, we were always
(and most importantly) best friends.
He and I were in a
relationship that appeared to be hand-crafted by God.
As it tends to do, time changed things. I started to feel
unsettled and uncertain about our relationship. I’m not sure when it all began,
though by the end I couldn’t ignore it. It was one of those things you don’t feel
much at first because it’s so small, but then it really hits you one day and you realize you’ve been feeling it for
awhile. For a handful of reasons, I felt led by God to end the relationship- so
I did.
It was heartbreaking.
I let go of this amazing, godly man I believed for two years
I was going to marry, and it broke my heart. At the same time, I had a deep
peace about it from the Lord, and I was confident it was the best decision for
my heart. I needed this season for myself, and I needed it with God alone. I
knew I had to let go of my idols and security blankets if I wanted the Lord to
teach, transform, and deeply move me in the ways I needed at this time in my
life, and my boyfriend had been one of them.
As much as I have felt peace about my decision months ago, I
have also felt deep sorrow. There have been days during which my heart ached so
strongly that all I could do was collapse to the floor and sob. I would cry out
to God and plead for another way. “God, why does it have to be one or the
other? Can’t I have this wonderful season with you and him? Show me what I can do.”
“Oh my daughter, how you don't yet understand.”
Even when I would cry, I knew deep down this was it; this
was what I needed. Needless to say, however, I still couldn’t bring myself to
fully let him go. I kept holding on to hope that maybe someday we would find
ourselves back together. I had an idea of what would need to change- either by
time or by the Lord- for a relationship between us to again be an option, and I
believed it could happen.
I liked the idea that he and I would again be together,
and so I began to imagine it. I daydreamed about how God could orchestrate it and what
it might look like. I loved imagining how this season could be a bittersweet part
of our love story. Then one morning it occurred to me: that’s not what this
season of my life is about.
This next season may
be a beautiful part of a love story, but it’s not ours. No, this is a chapter
out of me and God’s love story.
That’s what I wanted this season to be originally, anyway. I
wanted to pursue God’s heart (while uncovering lost pieces of my own) at discipleship
school in California, and that’s exactly what I’ll be doing. I wanted to know
God more, and he gave me a beautiful opportunity to seek him. I wanted to fall
desperately in love with the Lord, and he has already begun sweeping me off of
my feet.
The other day when my heart was aching, I allowed myself to
wallow in memories and conversations of the past with my boyfriend. I missed
him greatly and I sat reminiscing about how well he loved me, how deeply he
cared for me, and how continually and beautifully he pursued me.
Oh …
“Yes Lord,” I said aloud. “I hear you.”
You see, God loves me,
and God is pursuing me, and we are
about to have an amazing season
together, but I was missing it because I wasn't willing to fully let go! I couldn't continue idolizing and obsessing about this man and expect my heart to still be fully committed to God.
You can’t hold on to
an idol with one hand and expect to reach out to God with both- you don’t have
that many hands.
I’m still scared to let go fully because I still want that
man in my life. I want to be with him and love him forever, and I’m afraid
completely letting go will mean losing him forever instead. Just like I couldn’t
ignore the pit in my stomach, though, I can’t ignore this call from the Lord.
It’s a call that says my vision needs to change, as this season is not about that
man. I must stop focusing my time and attention on the relationship I left, and
I should no longer strategize ways we could possibly make it work.
It’s not a call that asks me to stop thinking about him,
praying for him, or desiring him, but it is
one that asks me to stop fixating on him.
I obviously don’t know yet how our love story ends; I don’t
know whether it’ll be when I’m old and gray and we've spent our lives together
or if it’ll be in two months when we no longer speak and I've realized we will
never get back together. I don’t know what it would look like if we were to get
back together, and I don’t know how it could be accomplished if I fully let go.
I guess I don’t know anything about the future, really. Go figure.
What I do know is this: the best kind of love and life you
can receive is from the Lord, and if He is inviting you into a season of
intimacy with him to experience those things, you ought not to let anything
stop you from running full speed into his arms.
Oh, and make sure to let go of your idols before you go. God
won't let you bring them along.
"When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But it's a rather special sort of 'No answer.' It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but in waiving the question. Like, 'Peace, child; you do not understand.'" -C.S. Lewis
God was calling, and you were paying attention. I respect you for hearing God's call, and more importantly for LISTENING.
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