on ending up in Nineveh

The word of the Lord came to Jonah son of Amittai: “Go to the great city of Nineveh and preach against it, because its wickedness has come up before me.”  Jonah 1:1-2

Sometimes God gives us clear instructions.  Maybe you feel prompted to speak to the lonely looking person across the waiting room.  Perhaps you get the sense you need to apologize to someone you really feel owes you the apology.  Or perhaps God simply tells you to trust and rest - stop talking, stop pushing, stop trying to figure it out, just be still and know that He is God.

The last instruction is one God has been giving me for nearly three years.  It may have been longer and I just didn't realize it, but it has been unmistakable since sometime in the fall of 2013.  At times, I've really tried.  I've started.  But life goes on, I get busy, new blessings or challenges come along and something happens and I get distracted and go right back into my habits.  I stop listening, resting trusting and go right back to my way of doing things - striving, worrying, trying to plan and plot and predict.

But Jonah ran away from the Lord and headed for Tarshish. He went down to Joppa, where he found a ship bound for that port. After paying the fare, he went aboard and sailed for Tarshish to flee from the Lord. Jonah 1:3

I'm starting to realize you don't have to run in the opposite direction to disobey God - you just have to stop moving in step with Him.  You just fix your eyes on your deal instead of His.  You might just get distracted or lax in your prayer life.  But inevitably, God will have his way.  He will get your attention. 

Now the Lord provided a huge fish to swallow Jonah, and Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights. Jonah 1:17

In my case, there is always some circumstance (stress, fear, heartache) that comes along and drives me back to my knees.  I end up crying out to God for direction, wisdom, help.    

From inside the fish Jonah prayed to the Lord his God. Jonah 2:1

And when I finally get quiet and seek Him, the message is still the same: Trust.  Rest.  Wait.  Believe I'm good and I have good plans for you.  God hasn't changed His mind and He hasn't decided to give me a watered down instruction.  He simply restates the original instruction and waits to see if I want to pick a different response this time.

Then the word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time: “Go to the great city of Nineveh and proclaim to it the message I give you.”  Jonah obeyed the word of the Lord and went to Nineveh.  Jonah 3:1-3

As I reflect on the last few years, I wonder where I would be or what my life would look like if I had just obeyed the first time God asked me instead of taking all the detours and pit stops I've taken.  Because the reality is if God wants to send you to Nineveh, you WILL end up in Nineveh.  You can take the direct route or the "scenic route" through the belly of the fish and it will likely be more painful, more costly, more time-consuming and more challenging.

Thankfully, God is bigger than our disobedience and His grace and kindness are mind-boggling.  He promises to use everything - even the detours - for good if we let Him.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28

I know God is working all things out for good and I'm excited to see what He will do with everything I have to surrender - the good, the bad, the ugly.  And I hope that next time He gives me instructions, I will just go straight to Nineveh. 

on love

I'm in love.

In some ways, I have loved this person most of my life.  For a brief, shining moment I thought he loved me too and we were really happy.  But now he doesn't love me anymore.  He has hurt me in ways I can barely believe.  And even though I know I have to let go and trust God to bring good out of this somehow, it doesn't change my feelings.  I still love him.

I have peace about the situation.  I'm actually kind of excited about what God is going to do.  I have hope for what the future holds even though our futures are not going to be together.

And yet, I still love him.

I was thinking about it this morning and I realized that's ok.  Because that's what true love is sometimes like, isn't it?

But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back.  Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked.  Luke 6:35

I've decided this is a way God can grow me...and teach me...and make me a little more like Him.  Eventually, I know He can be trusted to heal my heart.  I'm hopeful that someday He will enable me to love someone else who will love me back.  But until then, I'm not going to try to focus on the bad or allow myself to be angry or bitter.

I'm going to just keep praying about this person I love.  For him, for his family, for his new relationship.  I'm going to smile about the good memories I have of us.  I'm going to believe the best about him because people make mistakes and sometimes cause pain without any intention to.  I'm going to wish good things for him because when you love someone, you want him to have a happy life even if you won't be in it.  I'm going to love him not because I want something in return - there is no hope of that - but because God showed me what selfless love looks like and then asked me to follow His example.

Love is patient, love is kind.  It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.  Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  It always protects, always trust, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails.  1 Corinthians 13:4-8

A new command I give you: Love one another.  As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.  John 13:34-35

So even though I have good days and bad days, even though I struggle with anger, with missing him, with feeling sorry for myself, with bitterness toward the woman who came between us, with questioning God's hand in all this, with regret for the choices I've made, I keep trying to return to love.  Because God does that for me.  And love never fails.

on missing the forest for a single tree

I have been praying for a husband for a lot of years.  Consistently for more than 5 years, and on and off for over a decade. 

So if I prayed every day for five years, that's 1,825 prayers.  Even if I only prayed once a week for ten years, that's 520 prayers.  When you add in the prayers of family and friends who know my heart...well, you get the picture.  Its a lot of prayers.

I still don't have a husband.

***

Last weekend while walking with my mom I said something really awful and selfish and I don't even want to type it out because I'm so ashamed.  Basically, I said this singular lack in my life is the worst possible thing God could do to me - worse than losing a limb or cancer. 

(Yes, I know that was not only an incredibly insensitive thing to say, it's also ridiculous and stupid.  I warned you it was awful and selfish!!!)

***

Lately, I've started to realize that as much as I would like a husband and a family, God doesn't owe me one.  He's good whether I ever have one.  He's done so many other kind things for me.

The thing that got me thinking about this was a text from my mom.  I've been struggling and my mom has been right there with me, praying unceasingly, encouraging me, loving me when I was at my lowest and worst.  She's been through the ringer with me - basically my entire life (I'm a difficult child) - and she's continued to speak hope and blessing and love over me.  It occurred to me, if the only kind thing God ever did for me was give me this particular mom, that would be enough kindness for a lifetime...but that's not even the whole of it.  My dad is quite amazing too - generous and loving and good.  They have been married 40+ years and still really like each other.  I have never done without or lacked for love or support.  I also have two sisters that are my best friends.  They take care of me and love me even when I'm awful.  They make me laugh and let me cry and never stop telling me good things about myself.  That doesn't even touch on the many wonderful friends I have all over the place - Tennessee and Texas and Oklahoma and all over the place.  I could go on and on and on and never get to the good health or the opportunities for education or jobs to pay my bills or a roof over my head (a quite lovely one, actually)...and after a very long list of good things, I would finally get to things I absolutely take for granted that many people all over the world pray to have and don't.  Things like clean water and religious freedom and enough to eat.  And of these pale in comparison to the biggest blessing God has given me: Himself.

[I won't go into it again but I've written on resting before.]

So I don't have a husband.  Am I really going to focus on that and deliberately ignore all the big and small ways God has blessed me over and over and over?  Really???  Shame on me.

Give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.  1 Thessalonians 5:18

Giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ... Ephesians 5:20

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation of shadow due to change.  James 1:17 

Forgive me, Lord, for my short memory and selfishness.  Thank you for your mercy and goodness that has nothing to do with me. Thank you for grace that is completely undeserved.  Thank you that you're faithful when I am not.  Thank you for meeting every need and giving me every good gift.  I trust you, Lord.  You're all I need but thank you that you are a God of more.

on unexpected joy and peace

I just realized something surprising: I feel really good today. 

I'm not tired, sad, stressed or mad.  I'm not in pain, my mind isn't turning over and over or obsessing, I'm not unfocused or distracted to the point of being barely unable to function.  I'm not afraid of the future or discouraged about the present or inconsolable over the past.

Nothing in my circumstances has changed. 

I'm not having a very good hair day and I'm way behind at work.  I overslept this morning and didn't start the day with a special time of prayer or reflection.  I haven't gotten any special revelations and I still don't understand the season I find myself in. 

I have no explanation whatsoever but I feel really good.  Its not happiness based on something good happening in my circumstances.  Its deeper...fuller...mysterious and lovely and wonderful.

Joy.  With a side of peace.

The bible talks a lot about joy and peace:

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance."  James 1:2-3

"Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for God has already approved what you do."  Ecclesiastes 9:7

"Peace I leave with you, My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you.  Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid."  John 14:27

And two of my favorite verses ever:

"May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit."  Romans 15:13

"You will keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You, because he trusts in You."  Isaiah 26:3 

Now that I think about it, I think it started last night.  I didn't take my dog for a walk or work out or eat dinner.  I didn't clean or work or do anything productive.  Nope, I sat on my couch watching Suits, surfing the internet and crying about things I may never understand.  Sounds fun, right? 

Then, at some point, I stopped crying.  I started moving.  A weight lifted.  I caught up on listening to my voxer group and when I sent back my messages, I heard myself laughing and cracking jokes.  When I had to get up and let my barking dog out in the middle of the night, I didn't get impatient or mad, I just did it and went back to bed.  Driving to work this morning, even though I was late, I didn't get irritated with myself or other drivers.  While sitting at work and looking at all the things I need to get done between now and the end of the month, I didn't feel overwhelmed or immobilized.  Then walking on the sidewalk back in to my office after running out to my car, it hit me like a bold of lightning.  I feel really good. 

Joy.  Peace.

If I can't explain how I got here, why make a note?  Maybe to point out that part of having joy and peace is realizing it when you do and pausing to appreciate it, to revel in it. 

Maybe to say sometimes it isn't something you have to struggle to get, its something freely available if you will let go of whatever is blocking it. 

Maybe just to reassure those of you that have been wondering if I might need some professional help or a short term commitment to a psychiatric facility. :) 

Or maybe just to stop and thank God for giving it...for the knowledge that in spite of all that's lost, joy and peace are still possible...and they feel really good.

***

P.S. Thank you for all the prayers.  They are felt and appreciated.  God is so faithful.

on finding forgiveness

Grief comes in waves.  One moment you're standing in the water and feeling like maybe you're going to be ok...maybe you will be able to walk back to shore and resume your life after all, maybe you can lean back and rest on the water...

then the next thing you know you're upside down and under the churning sea, drowning, choking, eyes stinging, heart racing, utterly disoriented.

And just about the time your feet find the sand below you and your lungs gasp the air above you, the next wave hits.

***

Over the past few weeks, I've been in and out of valleys and deserts, through all the stages of grief (repeatedly and out of order), and up and down more than a roller coaster.  I've confidently assured people that its all going to work out, things just need a little time.  I've spent nights on the floor in my shower sobbing my eyes out because I will never love again.  I've binge-watched Suits and eaten ice creme and I've slept entire days away.  Some days I've even gone through the motions of my normal life.  

The last few days I've had new information that both closed the door of any hope for future reconciliation but also shed new light on everything I thought this whole thing was but obviously was not.  In some ways, it was freeing.  A weight lifted and I felt peace...but then the anger started and I launched into action. 

I unfriended all of the people he introduced me to.  Then I contacted my favorites and told them why.  

I deleted every picture of us left on my phone and every message he'd sent me.  Only after re-sending them to him so he could remember all the lies he told me.

I shredded all the letters I've been writing during this "break" and canceled our trip to Hawaii. 

I took everything he'd ever given me - the key to his house, a shirt he loaned me, the note saying how much he loved me - and mailed it back to him.

Occasionally, I'd take a break to Facebook stalk the new girlfriend to remind myself why we are never ever ever ever getting back together.  On one such mission, I discovered the overlap between our ending and their beginning and became enraged and devastated all over again.

I blocked them both on Facebook and deleted every picture I'd ever posted of the two of us. 

I uploaded posters with pointed messages and described how I'd been wronged by him then made sure the posts were public so he (and all his friends and family) could see them if they wanted to look.

***

The last time I saw him, I had driven 6.5 hours to surprise him for Father's Day on Sunday.  I made him his favorite meal and gave him and his kids tickets to go to the amusement park.

On the following Tuesday, he told me I had shown him what real love was.  That night he asked for a little time and space to sort out his stress. I did not respond well because it seemed so out of the blue - something felt off but I was still believing we were forever so I agonized for a week while he "worked on his stress."

I texted to see if he still wanted to me to come see him for the 4th as we had planned and the next morning he called and told me he needed to be alone to focus on his kids and he couldn't handle a relationship right now - he just had too much to deal with.

A few days later he celebrated the 4th with a new girlfriend and her kids.

***

Tonight I had what may be the last conversation I will ever have with the grown-up version of the little boy I fell in love with over 30 years ago.  The same person I truly believed was the man of my dreams less than a month ago.

He was cruel and cold and condescending.  I was shrill and bitter and judgmental.

He blamed me for pushing and denied any wrong-doing.  I called him a liar and threw every promise he made and broke in his face.

I ended up hanging up on him and then immediately sending a text that I'm sorry because I hate ending something that once meant so much to me on such an ugly note.

I want to take back every unkind word - but I also want to throat punch him until he comes up with a decent apology.  I want the ending to be less ugly because the beginning was so beautiful.  I want to find a way to have peace.  And again, I realize, I'm not going to get what I want in this.

Still, the truth is, I love him.  In spite of everything that can never be undone, I truly in my heart of hearts want him to be happy and to have the best life he can.  I want him to be the man - the father, the spouse, the friend - that I still believe he's capable of being...even if its never going to be with me.

But its over and there is no way to deny all big and small wounds we've inflicted on each other.  

Ultimately, that's how I know it was really love - at least for me.  He may not have meant any of it but I know I did because I still want good for him.  Oh, I absolutely regret every mistake and would take back so many of the choices I made - so so many - but I can still walk away knowing I gave him every single bit of love I had to offer.  I wasn't wise or cautious (and I suffered for it) and heaven knows I wasn't perfect, but I loved him with all I had.

And now, I'm left to sort through the regrets and mistakes and hurt and anger and broken pieces of my heart and hopes and dreams.  

I'm trying to hold every little thing up to God and give it to Him to handle.  I tell him how sorry I am.  I ask him to remove my sin as far from me as the east is from the west and to take every handful of ashes and make it into something beautiful.  I ask Him to forgive us both, to heal us, to set us free.

I'm sorry, Lord.  Help me let go.  Heal me, Father.  Help me forgive.  Give us your peace.

I'm trying to catalog the good that came out of the heartbreak - the big things (I met wonderful people through him, since it ended dozens of friends reached out to comfort me) and the small things (I lost 10 pounds) and the really important things (I returned to a consistent prayer life, God has been faithful, I found peace that passes understanding).

Thank you for the good memories, Lord.  Help me not to forget that it wasn't always a disaster.  Help him remember my best moments.  Thank you for drawing near and loving me and holding my heart.

I know we will probably never speak or see each other again.  The idea of "us" from childhood is forever tainted, and in some ways, the loss of that fairytale is as painful as the loss of the reality.  No matter how much good God brings out of this, there will always be a scar over this relationship, this season.  

But I've drawn a line in the sand.  I won't cry any more tears for something we never really were.  I'm done being sad over someone I meant so little to.  I'm fixing my eyes on God and trusting Him with my future, whatever it looks like.

I'm not sure how long forgiveness will take.  I choose it over and over but then another wave knocks me down and I come up gasping and spitting and cursing his name.  Why.  Why.  Why.  

But I refuse to allow the enemy any more ground in this.  He has taken more than his share from both of us already.  

So I refuse to resent her.  I refuse to wish him ill.  I refuse to hate.  I refuse to stop praying for his family.

Lord, give him wisdom.  Send your hound of heaven after him and don't allow the enemy to cause him any more turmoil.  Protect his kids.  Heal their hearts.  Give them peace.  Do a miracle in the mess.  Show them mercy.  Show them your best plans for them.  

I refuse to be bitter.  I refuse to keep judging because I remember my own shortcomings.  I refuse to question God's love.  I accept that I may never understand.  I refuse to be negative about the future.

God, I know you can work all things for good.  I know you love all of us.  I know you have good plans for us.  Do a miracle.  Be glorified.  Redeem all this heartache and searching.  Save us, we're lost.

***

The waves still come and sometimes I slip underneath the surface.  I can't see or breathe or move for a moment.  But my feet keep finding the ocean floor.  I keep standing back up.  I keep wiping my eyes and gasping for breath.  I keep moving toward the shore. 

Eventually the crashing force that keeps knocking me down will just be a gentle lapping tide around my ankles.  

Eventually I will walk steady on dry ground.

Eventually my broken heart will be healed and hopeful.  

Eventually my hurt and anger will be completely and securely replaced with peace and forgiveness.  

Eventually. 

Mondays With Stella

Written 1/4/16

I brought Stella home late at night on the Monday before Thanksgiving and from the very beginning, I was wholly unprepared for her.  

I had mysteriously developed a case of puppy fever and had been obsessing over it for weeks, constantly looking at adorable puppy pictures, checking online for adoptable small dogs that were NOT Chihuahuas, asking friends and family what they thought about me getting a dog (most common response: “Are you crazy???”) and at one point, seriously considering spending my entire bonus on the online purchase of a pomski puppy from out of state.  Seriously.  

I researched and analyzed and obsessed.  I completely ignored the reality that I’m not a dog person.  I proceeded on my search oblivious to the glaring obstacles: that I don’t really have time for a pet (much less a puppy), I certainly don’t have the right environment (small upstairs apartment) and I have rarely met a plant I couldn’t kill (including a cactus).  I could not be hindered by logic or swayed by reason.  It’s entirely possible that I went temporarily insane.

From this slippery slope of poor judgment, I proceeded into even more dangerous terrain…the harmless Facebook post seeking feedback.  “I’m thinking about getting a puppy…advice?”  The opinions poured in.  Don’t get a dog.  Dogs are the greatest.  Get an adult dog that is potty trained.  Adopt a mutt.  Get a pure bred. Don’t get a dog, they are a ton of work.  It will be your best friend for life.  A friend private messaged me.  “I’ve had two shih tzus and they are great dogs.”  She followed up with several traits that were very appealing to me: minimal shedding, don’t need much exercise so great for apartments, not yappers.  Hmmm.  

So at 7 pm on the Monday night before Thanksgiving, I google “shih tzu puppies” and get bombarded with adorable pictures.  I NEED ONE OF THESE!  I add “in Las Cruces” to my search and find a female for sale.  I text the number on the listing.  The number immediately texts me back.  Yes, she is still available.  I ask for a picture.  Moments later, a picture of the cutest little ball of fur pops up on my screen.  I text to see when I could see her.  The response comes back that this stranger from the internet can meet me in about 15 minutes.  Wait, what?  This seems like bad judgment.  I go get cash out of my secret stash and call my sister.  She lives just down the street and has the best dog I’ve been around.  I figure she can both provide expert dog information assistance and keep me from being kidnapped and murdered.  I pick her up and we head to Wal-Mart.  

It’s cold out, so we end up meeting Jose from the internet in the back booth of the McDonald’s just inside the super store.  It’s now just after 8 pm.  He reaches into his coat and pulls out a tiny ball of black fur and puts her on the table.  The fur is so black it takes a moment to find her giant sad eyes.  She quivers but doesn’t move or make a sound.  My sister asks reasonable questions like what has she been eating, is she old enough to be weaned, how big are her parents, how old is she, etc.  I barely pay attention and gaze deep into those huge soulful eyes.  Ignoring all reason and good judgment, I pull out my cash and bundle her up in my arms.  After thanking Jose, we head to the pet section for essentials.  I have no idea what these essentials are, but my sister saves the day, selecting a few items to get us through the night.

For the first 24 hours, I’m really worried about this tiny quivering mass.  She hardly eats, she doesn’t go to the bathroom, she doesn’t make noises or move around.  I try giving her milk using a medicine syringe.  I wonder if something is wrong with her legs because she doesn’t walk, just kind of scoots along.  I take her to the vet Tuesday.  Turns out Jose from the internet has taken her from her mom weeks before she was ready to be weaned.  She doesn’t even have her puppy teeth.  I feel like a horrible person and wonder which is the lesser of evils – keeping her or taking her back.  But the vet finally gets her to eat at little and sends her home with wet dog food.  She starts to move a little.  She occasionally emits a squeak.

Everyone who sees her loves her immediately.  She is adorable beyond words.  I pray that we can do this and that she will be ok.  I name her Stella (star).  I look online and find an Irish “middle name” – Neve (bright).   I buy her a striped puppy hoodie and more toys than most toddlers have.  I only feel slightly ridiculous.  I honestly can’t help myself.

She still won’t go to the bathroom.  I call the vet.  I try giving her the recommended warm water enemas with a tiny syringe.  I try massaging her little bum with olive oil. [Yes. This happened. We will never speak of it again.]  I wonder who the heck I’ve become.  I don’t even like dogs to lick me.  I start to panic because it’s after hours the day before Thanksgiving and I have no idea what to do with this poor little constipated puppy.  

I call Petsmart and ramble on about how I know nothing about dogs and I’m a new pet owner and I’m worried and she won’t poo and I don’t know what to do.  I speak to an angel disguised as an employee who recommends feeding her some pureed pumpkin.  I drive to three different stores to find pureed pumpkin.  Apparently pureed pumpkin is a hot commodity at 10pm the night before Thanksgiving.  I take Stella with me in a tiny bag I carry like a purse because I can’t leave her alone.  We go home and I feed her disgusting pumpkin puree from my finger because she won’t eat it otherwise.  We do this every few hours. All night long.  I stress.  I pray.  Finally, and with no little struggle, she goes number two.  I feel like I’ve won the lottery.  I log it in my answered prayers list.

Since that first night, she’s won over my co-workers, my family and just about every stranger she’s met.  She’s made friends with a couple sweet labs and been tolerated by several cool cats.  She’s done horrible disgusting things like eat her poo and irritating mean things like try to bite me on the face.  She wakes me up sometimes in the middle of the night to clean up messes and occasionally somehow manages to fling/scatter tiny pieces of you-know-what across the whole little area where she’s confined.  

But more often than that, she looks deep in to my eyes and lets me know she truly understands what I’m going through.  She tilts her tiny head and really listens when I talk to her. When I'm sick, she lays with me and comforts me.  She makes me laugh every single day and she’s always excited to see me.  Occasionally, she even lets me hold her in my lap without trying to gnaw off one of my fingers.

Today was a long, hard Monday.  The holidays are over.  Work was crazy.  I was tired and cranky and I feel a cold coming on.  Stella and I have been working for three straight days on potty training and she was doing awesome.  But today, every time I came back to check on her after a few hours at work, I find she has made mess after mess after mess.  Even when I was home, she was a complete terror, barking (she never barks), running around like a dervish, lunging and snapping at my pant legs.  But then…when I was nearing my wit’s end, she stopped.  She looked deep in my soul, tilted her head and listened as I whined about my day.  Then she returned to running around like a crazed furry pinball with my sock.  And I laughed and laughed.  

Stella has taught me that love is hard and messy and exhausting and requires unending patience and rolls and rolls of paper towels.  She’s also challenged me to grow – she’s got me thinking about going out on my own (so we can work from home), buying a house (she needs a yard) and being content with the life I have right this second (instead of waiting for a husband come along and complete me).  She is forcing me to be less controlling and selfish and lazy – all things that have needed to happen for a long, long time.

I really don’t know how someone like me – definitely NOT a dog person – has so completely lost my mind…and my heart.  I’ve spent hundreds of dollars, endless hours and completely sacrificed my freedom for the next 12 – 14 years (hopefully, at least!).  And still…I wouldn’t trade anything in the world for these Mondays with Stella.

on getting what you should have prayed for

I've been reeling from a heartbreak lately.  Nothing like having all your hopes and dreams shredded to get you on your knees.  I have been crying out to God nearly 24/7 over the past few weeks.  Today He answered my prayer.

Let me back up...the man of my dreams and childhood prince charming showed up on my doorstop a few months ago and told me everything I'd ever wanted to hear.  From the first moment, it was like something out of a movie.  We were perfect together.  We laughed and told all our secrets and met each other's friends and family.  We planned for the future and starting dreaming together.  We were happy.  We were going to be happy forever.

Only, I left out one little detail.  He wasn't completely free from his past.

Still, when my true love said he needed time and space to deal with everything he hadn't dealt with, I really thought it would be ok because we loved each other...and because we were childhood sweethearts...and because we were so very happy and God wants us to be happy, right?

Yes.

And no.

God has good plans for us.  He loves us.  He dreams dreams for us we couldn't possibly come up with for ourselves.  But He wants us to trust Him...and He wants us to be obedient.  And sometimes, He knows what we need better than we do.

So in my prayers, I have been asking God to give me back this love that made me so happy.  I told Him I would wait as long as it takes.  I would do whatever He wanted me to.  I begged and pleaded and cried my eyes out and prayed with all my heart.

Today, God told me no.

He showed me what I was begging for wasn't any of the things I thought it was.   He revealed in a painful and completely unexpected way that my prince charming wasn't coming back - instead he had already moved on to a new love.  The life we had planned together was over before it had begun.

I immediately began to question everything.  Were we ever really happy?  Was it ever really love?  Why did God allow this?

But the unknown answers to those questions don't really matter.

Because the truth is, my love was never free to be mine.  I knew it from the beginning but I thought maybe since God loves me and wants me to be happy, He could overlook the fine print.  Sometimes two people are meant to be so the rules shouldn't apply.

But that's the thing...the rules aren't there for God - they are there for MY protection.

His principles (like you reap what you sow) are a kindness to us.  God's mercy shows us what we can expect.  By ignoring God's boundaries and truths, I put myself in the position to get crushed.  To save me, God allowed the crushing.  This isn't to say that I think God was punishing me - I don't believe that at all.  God loves me.  He wants good for me.  So if He allowed this, its for my benefit and His glory.

So tonight, even though I lost everything I thought I wanted, I have peace.  I have hope for healing.  I have a powerful reminder that God loves me too much to give me what I beg for if what I'm begging for isn't really good for me.  And I have a lesson - to wait on Him next time...to seek His will and not my own...to trust that His boundaries are for my good.

So I can thank God for the no along with the broken heart and healing balm that His love is already pouring out over me.  Because the no to my request was really a yes to what I should have asked for from the beginning...not my will, Lord, but yours.

I need everything God gives me, and want [or feel the lack of] nothing He denies me.

- Joseph Elliot

on expecting good (or which wolf are you feeding)

I have always considered myself an optimist, a glass half full, keep on the sunny side of life, everything happens for a reason kind of Pollyanna.  But over the past few years, a subtle pessimism somehow snuck into my thinking.  At some point, a seed of doubt had been sown into my faith.  A hint of mistrust toward my Heavenly Father had developed despite walking with God all these years.  Faith was supposed to be one of my spiritual gifts but mine felt tattered and worn.  I don't know when it started and I really hadn't noticed it until people close to me started pointing out my negativity...but over time, it had started to color every facet of my life.

So I went to a counselor.  She recommended that I start focusing on gratefulness.  I downloaded an app on my phone that would prompt me every evening to answer a few questions about my day and list things that made me happy and what I was grateful for.  At the end of the questions, the app would ask me to select a picture to describe the weather (raindrops, sunshine, wind) and how I felt (happy face, sad face, mad face).  The thing that really struck me after a few weeks was how many days I picked the happy face.  Even on days I would have characterized as "bad" or "stressful" I still felt more happy than sad or mad or even neutral.  It sounds silly but it was a very eye-opening exercise for me to realize that even though I was focusing on the negative, all and all, the overall picture of my life was pretty positive.

After a period of focusing on gratitude, things seemed to start turning around for me.  It was almost as if my positive attitude was attracting more positivity.  My house that I had been trying to sell for seven years finally sold.  I got interviews for really competitive and prestigious job opportunities and ultimately was offered an incredibly rare position that on paper seemed impossible for me.  The boy I had a crush on my entire life showed up on my doorstep and declared his love for me.  I met his kids and fell in love with them and they seemed to like me back.  After 37 years of longing for a family, I finally felt like I was part of one.  I thought all my dreams were coming true.  Life just kept getting better and better.

And then it all fell apart.

Suddenly, I was right back in the pit.  In spite of all the answered prayers and all that I still had to be grateful for, all I could see was what I'd lost.  My pessimism returned.  I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up or believed I could be happy because things never go my way.  I knew God couldn't be trusted to give me something I'd always wanted, of course He wants me alone and miserable and carrying my cross and bearing my thorn.  Of course I wasn't chosen...I will always be unwanted, I'm unlovable and cursed, rejected and discarded like garbage.  How could I have ever believed that I could be happy?

The enemy whispered constantly in my ear every lie I'd ever believed about myself and picked at every wound I'd ever suffered.  I tried to pray and seek God but deep down, I didn't really trust a God who allowed this heartbreak...especially after I was FINALLY so happy.  I cried.  I screamed.  I laid on the floor and wished I could die.  I sat in the adorable car I loved in the garage of my beautiful new home and considered driving away from my life and disappearing.

It's been a little over two weeks since the first sign of trouble and a little over a week since the bottom fell out of all my hopes and dreams for the future.  Some days have gotten a little easier.  I think of all that God can teach me in this season and hope that maybe what was can be restored.  But some days are still almost unbearable.  I think if this is my life, I don't want it, please just let me get hit by a bus or struck by a meteorite already.

Even as I write this, I don't have answers or clarity and I haven't gotten any revelations.  Really, there is absolutely no reason for me to blog this - it can't possibly help me or anyone else.  I really don't even know if there IS an answer, much less if I can figure it out or understand it if its shown to me.

But I always feel the urge to write these little notes to myself when something inexplicable starts bothering me.  When thoughts get stuck in my head or well up in my chest and I can't sort them out but I know somehow that I need to.  And the thing that keeps niggling at the edge of my consciousness is the idea of TRUTH.  What's true?  What do I know to be absolutely true?  Not what do I feel (hopeless, rejected, brokenhearted) and not what do my circumstances scream at me (no one will ever love you once they know you, you will never have a family, you will never get to stay happy) but what is completely indisputably true?

I'm not sure but a few things keep popping into my head:

God is good.  

God loves me.  

God's plans for me are good.  

God doesn't change. 

My circumstances do not reveal anything about God's character or feelings for me.  What He did on the cross settled that.

Nothing I do makes me more or less lovable to God - His love is based on His nature, not mine.

To be completely honest, sometimes knowing truth really doesn't help.  I just want my happiness back and nothing else matters.  Fix it, Lord.  Give it back.  Let me be happy again.  Make the pain stop.  Please, God.  Please.  I'm begging you.  I know you can, please just come through for me with this one thing.  You know how much I love them.  You know how much I want the life we planned.

But other times, I realize (even if only fleetingly) that my feelings and my circumstances are temporary and truth is eternal.  That God is the whole point of my existence, and my happiness and desires are insignificant.  I trust you, Lord.  I know you're good.  I know you will work this all out for my good and your glory.  Help me not to waiver in unbelief.  I know your timing is perfect.  I know your plans are better than mine.  Help me rest in you. 

To say it is a constant battle would be a huge understatement. 

***

My mom loves the old story about two wolves.

An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he said to the boy.  “It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.” He continued, “The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”  The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, “Which wolf will win?”  
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”



She constantly asks me, "Which wolf are you feeding?"  I've always understood the metaphor but this is perhaps the strongest I've ever felt the fight raging in me.  Fear or faith.  Belief or unbelief.  Trust or doubt.  Hope or despair.  Joy or misery.  Life or death.  

God...or satan?

Maybe that seems like an exaggeration or overstatement...but I'm not so sure.  Because if you aren't siding with God, then who are you siding with?  If you're calling God a liar or questioning His intentions, whose character assessment are you choosing to believe?

***

I don't have a verse or an answer right now.  I feel weak and broken and sad and afraid.  I don't want to be ripped apart by my internal wolves.  I don't want to be tossed to and fro or live double-minded.  I don't want to walk in defeat and doubt and fear for another second when as a believer, God already secured victory for me.  But at the same time, I still want to cry and beg God to give back all that's been taken from me.  Please.  Please.  Please.

I don't know how I'm going to manage it right now, but I want to choose faith...and belief...and trust...and hope...and joy...and life.  I want to side with God.  I want to believe Him. I want to rest in Him and wait on Him.  I know He deserves that. 

I don't know how I'm going to manage it, but I want to feed the right wolf...and I want to starve, once and for all and forever, the wrong one.

Help me, Lord.