"That" Girl

Heartbreaks have a weird way of morphing and changing over time. There is the initial shock and grief, then as time sets in, more and more questions come, anger, then more sadness, then more questions, then more anger, then more sadness over and over. New things come to mind that hurt all the more and all you want is to have the source of the heartbreak refute them, make them go away.

I finally realized last night how much rejection I felt. It hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart just fell all over again as I felt a different sort of blow than I had felt before. It came from hearing some of the words he said at the end like a record, over and over in my head. The message was so loud and clear and so hard. The message was of rejection, a sort of I'm done with you, this wasn't worth it and neither were we. I was just with you because I was afraid to be alone...

I felt myself split into a million pieces as I heard old words with a new and terrible twist. At first I tried to brush them off as just an excuse, as something to retreat into as a means to get out of a relationship that required more than he wanted to give, but the more I heard them, the more I heard the consistent message of the last few months over and over, the weight of the rejection sat heavier and heavier. I know I can be a pill and controlling and so frustrating sometimes, but was I really that bad? Did I really become "that" girl? That girl that tries to keep her man, no matter what cost? Ouch...

I cried, then I prayed. Lord, speak truth. I feel like I am drowning here. What am I supposed to do with this?

I sat there for a long time, wondering at the implications, at the truth and at the desire to not feel like it was all a shame and he was only with me because he was afraid of being alone. Is that really what it can all be reduced to? Since when, after all I have been through, would I have not seen that, felt that, known that? I mean I could feel his distance, I could feel his walls, they killed me more everyday, but this, could this really be true?

I went back through my journal and looked over the things the Lord has spoken to me over the last few weeks. More than anything, what He has said again and again: this was real. Don't let anything take that away from you. This was real to you, and it was real to Me. There are things you can't understand, reasons you will never know and questions that will never be answered, but know, with all of My heart, this is not what I wanted for you. This was real, his love was real and so was yours and I promise, I promise you will heal.

There is some sort of validation in that, some sort of relief that comes when I heard the Lord say it again. I wasn't the stupid girl. I didn't stick around just because I was afraid of rejection, I didn't want him just because he was there. We both were smacked in the face with it, with no false pretense of trying to find love. No amount of rejection now, can take that away.

I may never really understand what happened and why we could go from mountaintop to drowning in a matter of a few weeks. I may never know why I lost him months ago and never got him back, I may always have to live with wondering what really happened, but I do know, no matter what anyone says, this was as real as it gets. I wasn't a fool, I didn't love carelessly, or unaware, I made choices, eyes fully open, knowing exactly what I was choosing and I felt the Lord every step of the way. I can't account for why he didn't, or what was going on in his mind and heart, but I know enough of who he was, of who I fell in love with to know, whatever he says now, there is no explaining away his love, or mine.

I guess I'm choosing to believe the man I knew before I lost him the first time, way back when; way back before the walls were built and I got panicky and all hell broke loose.

It doesn't change anything. It doesn't take away all of the hurt, the grief, the loss, but it does help me not internalize the choices of him as a comment on my worth, or value. Everyone has choices to make and there are always consequences, good and bad, for the actions we commit. At the same time though, those choices, those actions aren't always reflective of what we really want, or who we really are and they are especially not always about those that are effected by those choices. Unconsciously we protect ourselves, we freak out, or we yell, or build walls, or whatever based on beliefs, hurts, old stuff, bad stuff and lies we have forgotten to forget. Those messages become stronger, or reenforced by circumstances and we make decisions, either aware, or unaware that effect us and those around us. I have a choice though about how I internalize others choices. Once again, it may not be about me.

It's not easy. It's not easy to fend off the thoughts, the messages of worth, but there is a Higher Voice I have to listen to. There is a more important message I need to believe. No matter what anyone says, my worth is defined by His love, His choice for me, His pursuit of me. My value is in Him, no matter how much it hurts to feel someone you love, cast you off, but I know, every hurt is able to be healed, and every wound is able to be redeemed. Right now, it's about feeling the grief, forgiving, accepting and moving on. It's not easy, and there seems to be no end right now, but hearts have broken before, pain has been felt before, and people have been rejected throughout history. I am no different, but then again, neither is the pain. It hurts like hell, but that's okay. It won't forever. He has promised me it won't.

Keep on drivin', your almost there

You can smell the sea salt in the air.

Keep on singin', the beautiful songs,

They will keep you company when the ride gets long.

There may be no body there when you arrive,

There may be no banners wavin' in the sky,

Just keep on drivin'....

Keep on drivin', till the dawn sets it,

Cause you know that every darkness has its end.

Keep on singin', at the top of your lungs,

You will know the words before too long.

There may be no body there that knows your name,

There may be no body there at all, it's just the same.

Keep on drivin',

Keep on drivin'....

-Justin McRoberts, "Keep on Drivin"...

Authenticity

There is one word that for years has been my motivator. It has been the benchmark, the struggle, the bar of accountability in everything I say and do. It is the provocateur, the advocator, the cause for cynicism and hope, the one thing that I can not excuse away or ignore.

Authenticity.

People are always a little taken-aback when I say that. Why would that matter? Why would that be the most important word? Shouldn't it be something like love, or hope, or faith?

I contend that they are. They are some of the most important concepts, acts, reasons for living, but all of them, all of them are contingent on one thing: authenticity.

It is difficult to describe the ramifications of such a philosophy within my own life. It comes from a place of dissatisfaction, a place of frustration and conceptual need to understand and see the truth. I have watched many fall and waiver under the burden of words such as love, faith and hope when authenticity has been lost. All three become acts, ways of playing the game to get by. They become stones around the neck, drowning people in the "should's" or "should not's."

But the real reason authenticity has been such an obsession in my life is this: it allows for no excuses, no justifications, no imitations of anything other than deep relationship.

If loving people, if having faith, if hoping for something is the call of Christ, if loving Him and His bride is the most important thing we can do, then why would He ever not give us the tools to do just that in spirit and truth? I have heard love described as just an act, as a way of being, but doesn't that somehow take the power of it away? Who wants to be loved in an empty impersonal sort of way? Ask any husband or wife out there, would they rather their spouse do something out of duty, or genuine desire to care? No matter how much you try, you can't separate emotion from love, faith and hope.

That's not to say that emotions don't wax and wane, bringing about at times the need to push past the hurt, the anger, the pain, the whatever, to keep loving and keep having faith and hope, but nothing is 100%. There has to be a point where spirit and truth meet the heart place of real love.

We don't marry someone for contractual reasons, we don't enter into relationship because it's "right." Usually we fall in love, that love starts to grow and the rubber hits the road and out of that love has to bare the fruit of choice and struggle, yada, yada, yada. The point is, it start with a place of real love.

This is a round-about way of saying there is no need to settle. So often I have found myself or others struggling with the knowledge of what love and God are, trying to convince themselves that their heart is in the wrong place, so it needs to change. They ignore the bigger, harder questions they don't want to ask for whatever reason. They have met the Savior and now everything should be fine. They now have the Holy Spirit so everything should fall into place and they just need to act out love. There is a "right" thing to do, or believe, or think, or be and anything else is just wrong. The heart, the heart is completely ignored in favor of understanding or just not wanting to know what the answers to their questions are.

Admitting to the questions that come from pain, loss or bad choices is hard. But that's the only thing that breeds the authenticity. You can't ignore pain, hurt, questions, struggles and try to be just "be" or "love" or whatever, without eventually ending up exhausted and giving up. Without the heart connection between the love of the Father, the grace of the Father, the hope of the Father, actions just become servitude to an unseen distant Lord. It becomes duty rather than relationship.

It's hard, looking into His face and saying "I don't understand. My heart is not engaged, why? What do I need? Where are You? Help me receive this love so I can give it out. Show me grace so I can pass it along, fill me so I can fill others." It sounds like a challenge, a test somehow. It almost sounds dishonoring, or disrespectful. Think about it though, if He is the one that has charged us with the task of loving "in spirit and truth" if He is the one that says to love Him and others is the greatest commandment, if He is the one that says He is love, passionate, true, unending love, than why would it ever be disrespectful to ask Him to give you what you need to do just that? If He is not scared of the questions, the emotions, the struggle, than why should I be?

Asking the questions though, facing the ineptitude of our struggle, giving Him space to move in, heal, complete the good work, give us strength that isn't our own, peace that surpasses our understanding, those, those are things that have to come out of real relationship, and real relationship can't exist without communication. It can't exist without asking the hard questions, saying the hard things, telling the other when you are mad, hurt, frustrated or just plain confused.

The best times in my life have come when I have not excused, buried or ignored the questions, pain, anger, but instead have taken them to His feet, dropped them and said "So what do You think about that, huh? Explain this one to me." The only caveat being, I had to stick around long enough to hear His answer. I had to believe that if He was as good as He says, if He loves me as much as He says He does, if He really does desire me the way He says, than asking the questions, they would eventually lead to answers, healing, or just a peace that would lead me closer and closer to Him. I had to start by believing what He said over the fear, the pain and the hurt. I had to desire to connect, reconnect, or just believe that connecting with Him was what the real goal was. He had to be able to get to my heart in ways I didn't understand. I just knew my part was to show up and start the conversation. The end result was up to him.

More and more I have been learning how true that story is for relationships as well. You can start with an amazing connection, with real love, with beauty and trust and all of foundations that can lead to a deep meaningful relationship, but without the ability to show up, ask the hard questions and deal with pain, fear and anger, authenticity and desire begin to fall apart. Hurts happen, people say stupid things, do stupid things and make us angry, eating away at the genuine love and easy connection. It's normal, it's part of the journey, but if you can't return, go back, deal with it and find resolution, the walls between you and the other get thicker, taller and harder to get past. We bury things, try to "let things go" or just don't say what we need to, and all that's left is duty. It becomes empty acts of "love" that don't feed into a deeper more meaningful connection. We stop seeing the other person for who they really are and we see them only through a haze of hurt, anger and fear. All of the bad piles up and then, one day, it's no longer worth it. The fight is pointless and what we once had dims so much we forget what we once fell in love with.

The fight, the pursuit, the struggle comes in not letting that dim. It comes in the form of saying "No I won't settle for this and I believe there has to be more. I'm not going to excuse everything away, or not talk about it, because if I do, I will lose this intimacy, this connection, I will forget who you are and I can't stand that thought. Talk with me, answer my questions, help me see and ask for my forgiveness, change, mold, work with me please as I will with you as we fight to protect this beautiful thing that has started."

It is no different for our relationship with the Lord as it is for our relationship with others. Going deeper, sticking around, fighting through can look like trusting the others heart more than the fear, the pain, the hurt, the restlessness. It says you won't believe in anything besides true love, faith and hope. It says you know there has to be more and you aren't going to settle for anything less. There has to be the possibility of healing, redemption, repair, hope in despair and more than just feeling like a hamster spinning in a cage.

There has to be the possibility of authenticity. Of meaning what you do more than just the actions, of meaning with all your heart the words you say. There has to be the ability for them all to meet and be real, true and fulfilling.

It all has to start with a choice though. It has to start with the belief in the heart of God and His desires for us, because if they are true, than no question asked can't be answered, no hurt can't be healed, no anger can't be released, no forgiveness can't be granted. Life can be fully about redemption, hope, faith and love... authentically.

Don't Worry

Don't worry. Just don't worry.

Simple words, but so powerful.

I went to prayer tonight feeling anything but the desire to pray. I was agitated and angry, frustrated and hurting. I could barely sit still in the worship time. I found myself tapping my foot, biting my nails, staring at the ceiling, arms crossed. I kept getting up and changing positions as if there was something deep in me that wanted to get out. I felt like screaming.

I knew something had to change. I couldn't feel like this another minute. I knew everything I had been praying for needed to come true. I need to FEEL His presence, I need to HEAR His voice and I needed to LET GO.

I have spent so many of my days worrying about how to handle all that I am going through in the best way. Don't be angry, don't feel guilty, don't blame, don't hurt, don't cry, don't laugh... there was nothing I could do to satisfy myself. Everything I thought, everything I did wasn't good enough... for me. It was as if I needed to prove my faithfulness, my love, my heart, my everything to the Lord and myself to justify any sort of hope or healing.

Well tonight I hit the wall. I was angry, and I mean ANGRY. The kind of angry that you can feel making your face red and the veins in your neck pop out. The sort of angry that threatens to give you an aneurism or a heart-attack. And I hated it. I didn't want to be angry. I didn't want to feel pain, I just wanted to be the picture of perfect hope and trust. But the question kept circling: what do I trust in and how do I do it? How is everything going to be okay? How are You going fix this? How can anything ever be right again? How am I supposed to trust the hope for a future, for goodness when it always seems to turn out so badly? I know it's not about having what we want all the time, but where does Your goodness and my life meet?

So I went over and asked a friend to pray for me. I didn't know what I needed to hear, but I needed to hear something. I needed PEACE. I needed a vision I didn't have, I needed to see the bigger picture, and it was a picture I couldn't conjure on my own.

And of course, the way He does, He spoke with His quiet voice that only He has. He simply said "Don't worry." In a split second I knew what He was saying.

I can't change anything, I can't fix anything, I can't hope for anything, I can't redeem anything... and it's not my job. It's His. Dying to self, healing, redemption; these aren't things I can accomplish. I can barely get myself out of bed in the morning. I can however, trust Him to do them for me. I can do my part by showing up, giving Him space, praying, being with people, going to prayer, going to church, talking with my pastor, but that's the best I can do. The rest, the rest is up to Him. Fixing everything, giving me hope, peace and comfort, those aren't things I can do, but I can ask Him to do it for me. I can place myself at His feet and ask Him to pour in. I can ask Him to redeem and create His will in my life. I may not be able to create anything new, but I can ask Him to renew.

So now, now I wait. I sit still and I wait. I ask for His peace that surpasses understanding, and when it comes, I accept it. I have to stop trying to determine outcomes and make them happen and instead let Him tell me where and when to move. I have to sit in the quiet, let Him have my thoughts and let Him tell me whatever it is He wants to. I make myself available to Him and then I find what I do enjoy in life again and enjoy it.

I choose to not worry because I don't have to. I choose to not worry because I have someone who does for me. Whatever will be, will be. For now I can do nothing but learn to enjoy Him and what He has for me.

The pain, the anger, it will all come and go, but every time it does, I can turn it over to Him, knowing His healing is greater than any emotion, fear, pain or wound I will ever know. His healing, hope and redemption is complete and whatever He wants to do, He will do in completeness... when I let Him. When I let Him speak to me and do what He wants. When I step back, get out of His way and just ask "So what's up for today? How can I learn about You and who You are today? What would You like to bring me today?" The rest will work itself out. Conviction, healing, teaching, those are all things I can trust Him to do in His time and in His way. He doesn't need me to do them.

Thank God.

Hope for today

I woke this morning more hopeful than I had all week. I'm not sure why, maybe it was the grief, maybe it was the journaling, or maybe it was just the goodness of God.

I've processed all I can. I've prayed and released as much has humanly possible. I have chosen to let go trusting God, struggled with accepting His will, asking the why's, then letting them go as I realized deeper and deeper that the why's never matter. Acceptance and walking out that acceptance is what matters.

I had an interview Wednesday and yesterday I got a call from her asking if I wanted to apply for a position with Google. They are looking for people exactly like me. Recent graduates, varied background, government experience and a solid GPA. I would be a shoe in. It pays well, the company is notorious for taking care of their employees and the opportunities would be endless. Basically an all around win-win situation.

Except its in Mt. View... and that's one hell of a commute.

Another move, another choice to make.

Its a great decision for me. It's a great new start, new place, new opportunity and to be honest, I'm excited, except I still struggle with such a change of mind and its a little frightening.

The acceptance has to walk hand in hand with the belief in the Lord. The landscape changed as I had known it, but change it did. As I sit and watch it morph in front of me with a speed I didn't know was possible, I realize once again, the only choice I have is to put one foot in front of the other and continue walking forward. I can't plan any more than one step at a time. Today, I say yes to the next step and leaving the past in the past.

Tomorrow the sun will rise, the moon will fall and autumn will still shine through as my favorite time of year. I will still be breathing, living, growing and trusting. The earth will still be turning and God will still be God. I may not feel the most joy and excitement in this new path, but I know that will come with time. I know in a day it will be better, and then in a week still yet better, and in a month, still even better. That's the God I serve. A God of healing, newness and hope, even if for now I am just hoping for hope.

I can change nothing, and maybe I wouldn't, but all I know is I can only play the hand that is dealt me. For now I will apply for the job, not knowing what will happen. Maybe I will get it, maybe I won't. Maybe I will move, maybe I won't. Who knows. I have no idea what the next few weeks, days and months may bring, but that's okay. I've never really known before and that has never stopped life from still happening.

I'm okay. I'm doing okay. Todays going to be a good day, and so is tomorrow. No matter what happens, I'm going to be okay. Letting go of the fear helps me release control and in that, I find my greatest peace. Hope will come as I continue to let go, move on and watch the Lord unfold a different path. He has never let me down and I know He won't now. There is blessing and joy and hope enough for today and there will still yet be more tomorrow.

I am not perfect, and never will be, but I can't control that either. Though I grieve bad decisions and mistakes I've made, they don't take away the ability for the Lord to bless and continue to be near. I can walk forward knowing I'm forgiven and loved. I'm a work in progress and mistakes, sorrows, joys and everything else in between is part of that work in progress.

Everything has changed and maybe that's part of the greatness. I can admit what I did wrong and see it for what it is, knowing, I will never go back and do it that way again. It cost too much and I grieve that. But as Paul said, we don't grieve as non-believers. I may have done it wrong before, but I know I will never return to that default again. I've been marked, scarred by His love and discipline and I'm thankful. There will be grace in abundance today and tomorrow. That's what redemption is and that's what I have to believe in; a redemption and grace bigger than my mistakes.

I guess that's why I'm so hopeful today. I know, without a doubt, how great God is. He has given me today to trust Him with, and tomorrow will be tomorrow. I don't get to know, and I don't need to. I have grace for today and that's enough. Tomorrow everything could change again. Or the day after that, or the day after that. And that's okay, because God will still be God and I will still be me and He's not going to let me go. That's what makes it so okay to move forward. Everything is going to be okay because... well, it just is.

Hosanna

The only place of real peace, real safety, real comfort I have found lately is in prayer or worship. The rough part is, when your heart is hurting as badly as mine, worship and prayer is usually the last thing you want to participate in. The energy spent getting out of bed, taking a shower and not succumbing to the depression that threatens, is all you have.

But real life calls and interviews, laundry, chores and projects don't wait for my broken heart to mend. So after gathering my wits this morning, I started back in on the counters at my parents house. I have been trying to help them fix their kitchen up and the mindless tasks of repetitive motion seem to bring some relief. So I stopped crying, brushed my hair, scrubbed my face, threw on my ripped jeans and destroyed shirt and started in.

I resounded to worship while I worked. I may not feel it, but I needed to pull on the garment of praise and remember that no matter how bad things get down here, God is still good and I still need to tell Him He's good. I needed to tell Him He was good.

A song I used to sing with the worship band back in DC came on while I was working: Hosanna. I started worshipping repeating the words over and over, not knowing what I was really saying. I had sang it so many times in front of people I had memorized it rote. Over and over I sang "Hosanna! Hosaaannaaa!! Hosanna in the highest!" I forgot what Hosanna means, but it didn't matter. I knew it was good and I knew I needed to sing it... loud.

The song built, and with it my voice. Not my heart, not my mind, but just my voice. The song hit the bridge and with it I hit my feet. Stomping, screaming and yelling "We're on our knees!! We're ON OUR KNEES!!! Hosanna! Hosanna in the HIGHEST!!" I lifted my hands yelling out "Heal my heart and make it clean!!! Open up my eyes to the things unseen!! Show me to love like You have loved me!!! Break my heart for what breaks Yours!! Everything I am for Your kingdoms cause as I walk from earth into eternity!!!!"

Everything I had been feeling and hurting over and needed was right there in that statement. Clean my heart, help me love like You do, everything for Your kingdom... it was all I have been sacrificing and more.

My life, my circumstances may never quite turn out the way I want them. I am broken and hurting and when this heals, I am sure there will be something else that I will have to heal from and round and round it will go as I walk from here into eternity. But that's just the thing. This still isn't about me. My life is a sacrifice in return for His sacrifice. I have promised everything to Him, my future, my past, my present. I can't take it back now just because it hurts. So my heart hurts, so I feel like I've lost everything, so what if I am scared and broken? Does that ever change His heart, His sacrifice, His love and grace for me? No. It never has, so why should it change mine for Him? Should He become untrustworthy because I feel confused and hurt? If this is what is part of my journey that will turn into a sacrifice of praise and maybe one day brings something to His kingdom, than who am I to question? Who am I to withhold?

His faith in me has never wavered, it has never changed and has never lessened, no matter what mistakes I've made, no matter what stupid things I have done, why should my faith in Him waver, when He's not even human? These aren't even mistakes, or failures, they are part of His larger plan. Why should it change my love and commitment to Him and His cause just because I don't like part of it?

If all it was, was to love and learn to be loved, if all it was, was to experience this heartbreak and know how much more I love the Lord, if it was only for a short purpose and time, who am I to judge? I am a vessel to be used as He pleases. I trust Him. He doesn't use capriciously and He doesn't sacrifice for nothing. That's not His character, so if He doesn't, than whatever He is asking me to undergo and still trust Him, it is part of His good and mine. It becomes my honor, my joy to choose to love Him and others in the face of loss and confusion.

Someday I may understand, someday I may see better, someday I may be aware, but if I'm not, if this always feels like an experiment gone bad, if I never get to see the fruit, that's okay. I know somehow, somewhere, it was part of a bigger plan. My heart was scarred to want to love like I have been loved, my heart was broken for what breaks His, my everything again is turned over for His kingdom. I am being taught in real time, in real experience to love through pain, to want the best for someone over getting what I want, my heart is being broken to not return anger for pain. That's enough. That's so good for now. That's what I want, that's what I have always wanted. If this is what it takes, if this is what it means to learn it, than I'm okay with that. When the pain comes, I will continue to turn it over, when the anger comes I will continue to yell "Hosanna! Hosanna in the highest!!! Your will be done!!!"

As the song finished and my arms lowered, my heart broke again and tears began to form over what should have been, what I thought was, but that's okay. It's going to hurt for a while, its going to be painful. It's part of the sacrifice, part of the journey, part of the plan. It's not something to shrink from, to ignore, to pretend it isn't there, it's part of learning to still love in the face of pain. My life is in His hands, safe and tucked away as a living sacrifice. He is a Healer and I know I will heal in time.

I won't fear what's to be, I won't fear tomorrow, I will embrace today for what it is, a day in the kingdom. I won't let fear steal the love I have. I may never know something like what I lost again, but if that's His will, I have to trust. This is a transitory life, marked for eternity and that's my goal, not here... not now. I pray blessing in my life, but not circumstantial, heavenly. give me more of You Lord, give me more of You.

As I went back to scrubbing and crying, the song changed, but I still mumbled the only phrase I could. Hosanna... Hosanna in the highest.

Worth it

I've spent the last few days asking the hard questions that must be asked at the end of something significant. All of the why's, the what if's, the if only's have circled around, found a settling place, then circled back around.

Something wasn't right. The normal cliches weren't working. The pieces to the puzzle weren't fitting. There were too many loose ends, too many unsettled points. Why Lord? Why if I was so careful, if I was so diligent did I still face loss? Why, if You said yes, was it still a no? I don't understand. I never asked for this, I never sought it out in the first place. It was all You, from beginning to end. I lived in that truth, so why? Why if You knew it would end this way would you still take me there?

So I sat down with my pastor today and asked him those very questions. He had known my heart from start to finish, he had walked the journey with me and understood me along the whole way. If anyone would understand my dilemma, my frustration, my hurt, he would.

I guess I sort of expected the normal pat answers, because when he answered the question in the only way he knew how, I was a little shocked, and more than anything, thankful. He said "Because he was worth it. Because to Jesus, he was worth asking you to go through this."

Surprisingly, I agreed. Something settled deep in me and I released a held breath. I closed my eyes, soaked in the truth and sat back, feeling a deep sense of yeah, okay. I can live with that.

Truth be told, it makes sense. In the end, it was always worth it to me. Loving fully, completely, without reservation, without hesitation, it was always good. I loved him. I loved him with all heart and hope and perseverance. I gave it every bit of me the Lord asked me to give. I moved when He said move and I jumped when He said jump. I asked if it was right, it was, so I obeyed and moved forward, and I don't regret. Not one bit.

And since I loved fully and saw fully and accepted fully, I know, I know without a doubt, that love will not come back void. It may not have the result I want, I may not get to experience, or see the fruit of that love, but I do know one day, at some point, the love I let the Lord pour through me will find its way into a deeper, more abundant life for the man I loved. And for now, that's enough.

I always wanted the best for him, and my obedience was part of that. My love was apart of the best for him from the Lord and when you truly love someone, that's all you want. All you want is for them to know the love of God more and more and any part you can play in that, well it's good. It's enough. I may have loved imperfectly and I know I made glaring errors, but it's enough. It's enough to know my imperfection doesn't invalidate His perfection. It's enough.

Knowing now, that time has passed and that for my sake, for his sake, for whatever sake, my loving him is no longer needed, or purposed, or right, makes me sad. It hurts to watch that love disappear without seeing the fruit of it, but that's the beauty of the Lord. I don't have to see it. I can surrender to the goodness and sovereignty of my God, turning over my love and expressing it differently.

Now it becomes thankfulness mixed with sadness. A bitter pill to swallow, but a necessary one. I can still love, I can still be open and giving, but in a different way. Now it's from a distance, from a space, from a place of my protection. I laid down my life for a friend and now it's over. It's okay to move on, to still love, but to let go and let God be God. His heart is now in the Lord's hands and that gives me the peace I long for.

And in that moment, one of my favorite worship songs comes on: I surrender. Over and over it repeats "Your love makes it worth it all." In contrast to what I would expect to feel, I know I didn't love at the expense of my heart, I loved at the gain of it. I may have lost someone, but I lost none of me. In fact, I gained. I gained a newer, deeper knowledge of the love of the Father, of His kindness, His mercy, His deep desire and commitment. I learned of His ability to bless in the ugly, to come near and give hope in the midnight hour, not in spite of the midnight hour.

I asked to be used for His glory, and I know I was. I asked to learn to love recklessly, and I did. I asked to learn to be open and vulnerable and I did. I asked for Him, and I received. Not in the way I wanted, not in the way I thought would make sense, not on paper, but in a different way. In a way that can't be taken away. It way that isn't dependent on others, but only on myself and Him. There is no ability to lose when you love that way. Pain comes with loving like that. Risking rejection and hurt, but I will take pain over regret any day. The Lord is a healer and loving fully and completely will only hasten Him to come quickly and patch the wounding. I can trust Him with my heart and give and take it as He please because I know Him, because I believe Him when He says He wants the best for me. Because in this place, I have peace. I may have pain, but I have peace, I have hope, I have the sweetness of One who comes to rescue when I am spent from love. I have a voice that says "I am proud of you and I have not forgotten in you. You are mine and because of that, you are blessed and my treasure. Well done."

My love still burns strong, as I am sure His (the Lord) does, and my heart still aches, as I am sure his (the other) does, but it doesn't bleed the way it could. I loved, I lost, but still, it was better to love and lose than to never have loved at all. If only because no love ever returns void. It was worth it. He (the other) was worth it.

Loving him was never a mistake, it was never an error, it was, and still is, one of the best decisions of my life. It was made from a place of health, from a place of trust in God and living life that way can never be wrong. For all of his mistakes, his faults, his goodness and sweetness, his ups and downs, hurts and strengths, I truly did, and do love him. I always will. I will always want the best for him, I will always want more and more of the Lord for him. I never needed, but I did love him, and that, that was the heart the Lord gave me for him and I will never, ever regret that. No matter how much it hurts now, no matter how long the pain lasts, no matter what I went through. Love is never, ever a mistake.

It's not about me

Sometimes the hardest part of letting go, is letting go.

When something dies, it must fully die. There can't be any hope, any will for it to come back. There can be no bargaining, no more hope for it to come back, in any form. When Jesus let Lazarus die, it was a complete death. He wasn't just severely ill, or on life support, or comatose. He was dead. And when Jesus came to him, He wept.

Everyone was waiting, feeling the death with Him. Those that were family and friends of Lazarus had no idea what would happen. They knew Jesus could have saved him from illness, but not the clutches of death. It was too late. It was too far. He was too gone. The pain was too great and too much had happened. Nothing is more final than death.

Hope hurts too much in those death moments. How can you hope for resurrection from something so final, so complete, so... dead? You don't. We don't crawl in the casket at funerals and we don't jump in the ground at the burial and curl up hoping it will bring back to life who or what has died. Even Martha says "If you had been here my brother would not have died. Even now I know that whatever You ask of God, God will give you." Jesus replies "Your brother shall rise again." Thinking she understand what He is saying she replies "I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day."

There was no hope. She couldn't comprehend that He would do it now. That something could be so resurrected. She didn't want to. That would be too painful. Hope in death is so painful. Acceptance, was the only key to success. She had the faith to know Jesus was real, to know He was the Savior and His will and requests were right, but that was as far as she could go. It's as though she was saying "Just because You didn't show up right then, in the way I wanted You to, I still trust You. I still know You are good and real and supreme. Whatever You will, I will accept."

Acceptance of his death made the miracle even more real. All of those around Jesus had known the death, seen it, felt it, accepted it. There was no changing, manipulating, arguing through it. It was what it was, and the Lord was still good. Maybe there was no understanding, no figuring out why Jesus didn't come when He could have to save their brother and friend.

But she was no longer asking why, she was moving on. They had buried Lazarus and let it go.

Then, as if there was a torturous moment, a teaser of hope that probably felt like mockery, Jesus calls for Lazarus to rise. We have no idea how long it was before He stood up and called Lazarus to come out. We don't know if it was an hour, or two, or even half a day. We don't know what happened, or what was going on around Jesus, or any of the details, that would seem so insignificant, until we experience death ourselves. Then those minutes, those hours, those days seem to crawl by, as we hope that the next one brings more relief. That something, somewhere comes in and rescues us from the truth of the circumstance.

For Lazarus, redemption looked like the fixing of the circumstance. A setting right of that earthly version of what was happening. It was a 180 degree turn from what was happening. There was joy instead of mourning, laughter instead of tears, beauty from ashes. From acceptance of death, to marveling at the wonder of what Jesus could do. It became a miracle that became proof that became a foretelling. It had larger ripples in a pond that had more than just the rescuing of pain for Lazarus' family in mind. It has been read and reread and told and retold to tell of the greatness of God. It changed the world.

We are not all so lucky though. There can be no substitute for acceptance. No tricking myself into believing that "maybe, if things were different, if it was done this way." No hope for a different outcome. Death is death, in any form. Anything short of acceptance is cheating my way out of God's will. It's circumventing the process and what is to be. A bigger plan is at work, for more people than just me. Lazarus' death wasn't just about him, and the death in my life is never just about me. I don't know what God could be doing in anyone else's life and trying to predict it is just as futile. It may not be about me, and I may never get to know what it was about.

No one knows what the story is before it unfolds. Something dies and we say "It shouldn't be this way..." then, if or when resurrection comes, its not a miracle, its just righting a wrong. It's a heavenly manipulation. It's pointing the finger to try and make my plan the right one, when the only right one, is probably the one I didn't think of.

Acceptance, now that's different. Realizing that even if something were to come back, it still wouldn't be right, because there is a path that has to be complete, a death that needs to be death, a release that needs to be released, that becomes trust. That becomes love of the Father. That becomes faith. Faith not in circumstance, or blessings, or good things or what we want, but faith in a larger picture. It becomes faith in a bigger God, in a better God. It becomes hope in Him, rather than what He gives.

That process is never easy though. Planning the funeral can sometimes look like putting one foot in front of the other and starting over. Finding a new job, moving to a new city, starting new dreams and new desires. Reforming the view of the world with the new complexity of the death. Starting to see yourself through the lens of a changed color, not the way you expected. Not the way you had hoped.

That's the trust though. The trust is when every moment of pain comes, when the fear of starting new, when the anger at what has occurred tries to barge in, turning to the Lord and saying "Even now... even now I know what You ask for will be given to You. I know You are good. I know I can trust You, even when this pain feels so unfair. Even when I feel like it should have been different, I know... I KNOW You are good. I know you are bigger, better and a Healer. I know You bring light and not death, and even in this, there is life. I trust You."

At that point, whatever the next day brings, it has come from a place of trust. There is no alone, there is no hopelessness. There is no need for explanation, or justifications, or blame or anger. It's His. It's always been His, because it was never about me.

"Meant to Be"

I am beginning to hate the phrase "meant to be."

I used to see it as a promise. A place of hope and dreaming. Something to hold onto when things get rough a why of trusting in the Lord. Trust that He was sovereign over all and that no matter how ugly something gets, that never determines His truth. It's just a matter of time, patience, and work.

It didn't mean there was no more work to be had. It didn't mean it wouldn't be hard. It didn't mean I wouldn't get hurt along the way. Those things are inevitable. When you really love something, or someone, and you want it forever, there is bound to be times when you think its impossible, or they hurt you so bad you think you won't recover, or a door gets slammed in your face when you thought it was supposed to be open.

And if I had faced all of those things before I had done the work, asked the questions and faced the options, all of these things could spell out that I had been wrong, that it wasn't "meant to be" or that I was making a mistake. Every pain would mean it was maybe wrong, and every mountain would seem to say that I was headed down a dangerous path. The negative could have reenforced the fear, the uncertainty, the questions and the shaky ground.

But I didn't. I had asked the Lord to lay the foundation. I had debated, talked through, gotten advice and faced the ugliness of the options. Either the path I was heading down was wrong, or right. Either the choice was good or bad. Which was it Lord? I don't like this about it, but I love this about it. This scares me, but this seems right. Back and forth, back and forth, like a tennis match. I wasn't going to settle. Not this time. This time, I needed to know. I needed to admit all of it. The ugliness, the greatness, the truth of what it looked like and the way I loved and felt. I wanted to be open and honest and not hide myself from the pain of what the answers could be, either way. I was going after His best, and I trusted Him to give it to me. I wanted to be sure.

So I made no promises, I lived my life, and I processed with God.

I waited patiently for the meant to be moment; the moment it all comes together, the fears, the hopes, the dreams, the pain, the uncertainty. And the moment came. In all its gloriousness, it came. Peace settled in and dreams began. I could take stock in what the Lord had done. I had gone about my business with eyes wide open. I had prayed, thought, struggled through the pros and cons. I had faced the questions that made me wonder if it was right in the first place. I did the work... and it paid off. I was sure. It didn't matter what happened now. It was all a matter of figuring out what the right compromise, path and middle ground was. It was about now dreaming in the surety of what I knew the God had given to me.

So I walked forward, in confidence. But what I forgot was, there was another part to the story. There were other factors at play. Not everyone in the world lives their life quite like I do, so I forgot. I forgot to be aware of others and their journeys. Maybe I was mistaken, or naive, or whatever, but the outcome remains the same. I moved forward, only to be shut down. As soon as I stepped down the path of what had seemed like a "yes" I received a very firm, real, immovable "no."

My surety met the unsurety of another. So, broken heart in hand, I went back to the Lord. The problem is, I forgot to live in the surety I had asked for. When I got the firm no, or the closed door, or whatever you want to call it, I didn't go to the Source of the first "meant to be moment." Instead, I went to the source of the shut door, started pounding on it and telling the person who had shut it why they were being an idiot. I looked for a window, or an SUV tp traverse over the mountain, rather than going to the Creator of dreams, options, opened doors and peace. I blamed the mountain, the door and myself for seeing it wrong. I created plans and started tunneling, I tried to cajole and move the object. I did everything short of what I should have done. I manipulated and forced, bulldozed and tried to convince the object to do it my way... because mine was better, of course.

Fear got hold, peace fled and along with it sanity. I turned into the worst thing of all: human. Selfishness tends to run right along with fear, so I let my needs, my wants, my desires run rampant, rather than doing the vary thing I had asked the Lord if it was right to do: walk, trust, love and be patient. I wanted everything to line up perfectly, to reenforce what the Lord had said. I hit a hiccup, and I panicked. I was asking something outside of myself to do the very thing I needed to do. Trust God and not give up.

Hindsight is always 20/20, and in moments like these, forgiveness for self is invaluable. Well, almost as invaluable as His forgiveness. I wish I had sat in front of the mountain, pulled out a picnic basket, a bottle of wine, and watched the sunset. I wish, when the door closed, I had turned back to the Lord and said "Hmph. What now?" I wish I when I heard the "no" I had listened louder to the "yes" from above and not let it shake me. I wish I had sat still, trusted Him, and not let the fear, panic and hurt be bigger than God's grace, hope and truth.

"Meant to be" is an invitation. An invitation to trust the Lord. To not let the bumps in the road diffuse hope. It's an invitation to face when someone or something hurts you and work through it with the Lord. It's an invitation to take responsibility for a dream, or a desire, or a path, and let the Lord bring it to fruiting. It's not a phrase to escape responsibility or to rush past pain just to get to the end result. That is a fools errand. Trusting the Lord says something different. "Meant to be" is just another way of saying "I trust you Lord. I trust that if this is what You want, that if this is what it is supposed to be, then any hurt I incur, any road-block I hit, every mountain I come across is just another chance to trust You, no matter where it comes from." That trust doesn't give in easily, it doesn't give up hope, it settles in as a resolution to not be swayed by someone else's humanness or failing, or slammed doors, or anything else.

But all that has to be started with a foundation laid. It has to be started with the tennis match and back and forth. It has to begin with asking the hard questions. It means you can't be resolved to an answer, before you ask the questions, or not willing to admit to the pros and cons of the path or dream. It means you have to do the work, to ask the questions you aren't sure about, until you get the peace.

But once you get the peace, it becomes about trusting Him more than ever. Opposed to popular thought and theory, the journey only starts at the "meant to be." That's the hardest part. If something is really "meant to be" that means that all the pain, hurt, frustration, joy, fun, greatness and everything in between are apart of it as well.

I'll never fully understand. I'll never fully see. That's because I can't. I'm not supposed to. At the end of it all, I am apart of a body, and I can't always see what is happening in the other parts. It's not always about me, or what I could have, or should have done differently. My world is just spinning in a universe I can't fully comprehend. Who knows why the door was shut so tightly, or the mountain was so unmovable and it doesn't matter. I don't know what the Lord is doing behind it, or what volcano the mountain is. I'll never understand why I was so diligent, heard one thing, but another came about. And I guess I'm not supposed to. The bigger picture is just that, a bigger picture. I don't have all the answers and I don't always get it right. That's what makes Him God, and me... well me.

But that doesn't mean I can't learn. That doesn't mean I can't grow. It doesn't mean I can't heal. I can look back and see what I did wrong, the lessons I can learn. Like learning that loving doesn't mean getting what you think you want, but sometimes it means turning around, sitting down before Him and waiting rather than pushing the door down. Maybe the lesson is trusting His voice more than the voice of someone/something smaller than Him. There is no mountain He can't move, there is no door He can't open and truth be told, He not only doesn't need my help to do it, but getting out of His way is more loving. Sometimes patience looks like silence, and trust looks like encouragement. When the scary parts came, I should have run to Him and let treat my wounds rather than trying to make the dream fix them.

So now, heart broken anyways, dreams having died anyways, but now carrying the burden of having scorched and dented the door, or having scarred the mountain, I turn and finally walk back to the Source and ask "What now?"

Pieces of me in hand, head hanging, tears streaming, I have to turn, pull out a picnic basket, grab a bottle of wine and cry with Him while I watch the sunset. The mountains gone, the door has disappeared, but with it, the path I had asked about, the dreams I had started. I cry because of what I thought was "meant to be" I cry because I don't understand, I cry because what it was, was so beautiful. I cry because I loved and lost, because I tried and failed, because I couldn't see my mistakes before it was too late, and even if I had, it may not have changed it. The door may never have opened now matter how long I waited. The mountain may have never moved. I cry because I was human and no matter what I could have or should have done, it was meant to be. It was meant to be exactly what it is.