Every pattern of behavior is established somewhere...
I totally get it: relationships are hard for everyone. My baggage and my hurts probably pale in comparison to most, and I've guarded myself from further pain by abstaining from romance in general. I don't know what it means to physically and emotionally connect with a woman through a sexual act, and I'm grateful that God has extended me that grace.
But our hearts are peculiar animals, and we usually cannot convince them what should or should not make them hurt. I could spend all day being told how wise I am in giving relationship advice, but I know where my own patterns are still skewed. I'd like to hope that I can speak into the lives of others with spiritual discernment and objectivity, but I haven't made enough practical use of my principles to grant full assurance. I must trust that God will make me His vessel, despite my brokenness.
I met Heather at a party during the year of my ministry internship. We fell for one another pretty fast. I hadn't dated since high school, and she was still healing from an abusive relationship a couple years prior. We shared the same interests and felt amazingly at ease with one another. Years later, after reestablishing a friendship with one another, she confessed how comfortable she was sharing silence with me. For a girl with an amazing gift for gab, this was a special honor.
That Valentine's Day, I had been scheduled to work until 9pm at Woodies, so I made dinner reservations for 10:30. We doubled with her cousin and her cousin's boyfriend. I brought Heather a single red rose, with a handwritten letter wrapped around the stem. Heather created a bouquet of "encouragement flowers" out of pipe cleaners and was shyly concerned all night that I wouldn't like them. I bought her dinner at Tippecanoe Place, one of the finest restaurants in South Bend. The night was beautiful, magical, and innocently romantic.
As I was driving Heather back to her cousin's apartment, I told her that stories like ours rarely continue. She was wide eyed on account of the evening, and assured me that we could maintain this level of intensity long-term. It was a couple months before her past was rehashed by people back home, and she grew scared that our relationship would become as unhealthy as the others she had endured. Suddenly, she felt trapped by the very intensity that drew her to me.
I can share this story with a great deal of grace and forgiveness. On the other side of my own baggage, I know how my heart and my mind are often not aligned. My heart can be crying out for its deepest longings, while my head wants nothing more than to resist the potential for heartache. It is not unforgiveness or bitterness that lingers, but the difficult task of battling nearly ten years of reinforced lies. I want to believe that my heart's desire can be matched. I want to believe that someone would have the same level of care for my life as I have for theirs. I don't want to begin a relationship because I can, or I should, or because someone is interested. I don't want her to complete me, for I am fully complete. I want her to be good. My service for God should be enhanced and His glory more greatly manifested through my union with her.
It has been hard work reviving what were once dormant feelings. I pray for the grace of a woman who admires that hard work, rather than despises what I am yet to be.
3 comments:
I've been enjoying this series, so first of all, thank you for sharing it with us. This memory in particular seems to have been hard for you to talk about, but I get the sense that you needed to express your thoughts on it and that there are people in your readership who need to think about your words.
I resonated especially with this line: "I don't want to begin a relationship because I can, or I should, or because someone is interested." I feel like people push us to begin relationships simply because we've reached the right age and appear to have all the financial necessities in order. For me, however, that's not enough. It has to be God's time and God's person for me. And yes, we want our service to God to be strengthened by the union and His glory to be magnified all the more.
Thanks for a post that's as challenging as it is encouraging!
Thanks for your comment. It's beautiful how God redeems the painful moments of our past for His glory and uses them to build a deeper intimacy with Him.
Though He's still digging away and speaking truth into the insecurities gained through my experience, He was even so good to bring a graceful resolution to this story:
A couple years later, while I was working at the church from #5, Heather showed up on a Sunday morning. She had no idea that I attended there, and asked the youth pastor if she could help out.
He approached me to ask if I knew her, and I told him that we had been a couple. When he asked how comfortable I'd be working with her, I told him not to consider my feelings in the matter; I knew she'd be amazing with the girls.
Over the next six months, I was able to watch Heather serve our youth in spiritual freedom, and God gave me the opportunity to see the fruit of her singlehood, to admire her as a sister in Christ and not an ex-girlfriend. It was an incredibly humbling experience, but it's a constant reminder that His will for my life is larger than any heartache.
Anthony,
How wonderful that God allowed you to serve with Heather again, to see what He had been doing with her! I always love the way God works even the heartaches into His best plan for us. I often think we learn more through pain than we do any other way, even though it's so much more fun to learn through joy, or something else. Still, I'm glad He uses a combination of teaching methods in His dealings with us!
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