Six months ago, I was going along fine. Everything was going well. When suddenly, everything changed.
As I started to become more interested in him, I knew it couldn’t work out. I put it down, stifled my feelings, did all I could. Then one day I found out.
It could work out after all. My heart soared at the revelation. Everything could be ok, I could allow myself to feel what I had tried to keep under wraps, I was free!
One week later, my world crashed. It couldn’t work out. Not anymore. I lay on my bed crying, feeling hurt, betrayed, lied to. I tried to pull my heart away, but I couldn’t. I was angry, sad, confused, hurt and depressed all at once. I vowed I’d go on, told myself that my whole life was just beginning, that men were 49% of the population, surely I’d find another. I talked to friends, to family. I tried to go on like nothing had changed, but I was miserable inside. I tried to hold out hope; surely if it was God’s will, no other could stop it?
Six weeks later, the final blow came. It really was impossible. I confronted him in tears. I explained how I felt. How I had walked around for the past six weeks with my heart in pieces. He listened, but nothing could change. Not without hurting him and her. Not without making a big mistake. We agreed to go on friends, as I had forgiven him, but I was still wounded.
All summer, I went on as well as I could. More and more sad songs found their way into my playlists. I found myself reading Les Miserables, feeling deeply along with Eponine. I tried to keep in touch with him some, but distance (and my feelings) made it hard.
When all of this began, I wrote something, a little musing called Roses Have Thorns. It became the first post on this blog. I began to explore my feelings, to work through them and find the larger truth, to write and set down my ideas. Initially, the tone may have been sad. But then something began to change.
Somewhere along the line, I began to heal. Somewhere along the line, the pain began to recede.
Somewhere along the line, I fell in love.
This time, I’ve fallen for good and always. This One’s never going to leave. He’ll always be there just as close as He can be. I’ve known Him for a long time, but for the first time, I think I’m really discovering His fullness.
This time, I’ve fallen in love with Jesus. And I’m never going back.
He’s better than everyone I’ve ever known. He’s stronger, He’s wiser, and He’s more faithful. He’s everything I ever needed and more.
But now I wonder: what of this other one? Was he sent?
What if he was sent to help me understand? To push me to a place of neediness so that I realised how much I needed to lean on Jesus? To show me the range of my emotions and human needs? To…make me a blogger?
Hats off to you. You know who you are. You’re responsible for a heartbreak, to be sure, but even more, God has worked so much good through it, good that might never have come any other way. You brought me to a starting point I might not have come to otherwise. You’ve helped me grow. You’ve provided the inspiration for many a blog post. You even drove me to reconsider my career plans (country music, anyone?) You’ve shaped my life more than you know…and you know quite a bit.
Jesus, you’ve brought me further than I could’ve imagined…and we’ve only just begun. You’ve made good from the bad, beauty from pain. I hang on Your words, and listen for the breaths between them. Thank You, thank You, thank You. I love You more than I ever dreamed I could.
