God and I have been having quite a few conversations about heart things over the last year—love, marriage, family—and I can feel Him sifting sour feelings that had set down unnecessary roots in my life. Even now, I recognize a shift in the soil of my heart as if it’s preparing for new seeds to begin rooting truth where once lies had grown wild like weeds.
What I’ve realized with new clarity over the last year, is how much I’ve allowed the lies formed within an unhealthy relationship years ago to harden my heart towards future relationships; never wanting to again feel the hurt or pain I experienced in that relationship, I’ve become a master stone-stacker, adding height to the walls around my heart and emotions; keeping anyone who wanted to get close from getting close enough to hurt me the way he did.
Love has felt too risky, too vulnerable, too uncertain to walk towards again. You know what I mean? So on the rare occasion that a friendship begins to head for more, or I notice someone is gaining a hold in my heart that they could one day twist against me in their anger, their shame, or their guilt—like I experienced in the past—I shut them out and I walk away. Sometimes slowly, just inches at a time. Other times leaving them in an unexpected dust of confusion as I cut ties quicker than cookie monster clears a plate.
There was a moment at the beginning of the race, month one, where a woman named Robin, who knew nothing about my story, walked up to me during a time of prayer and said, “God is telling me you need to let go. Let go of the fear to love again, Victoria. Let go of the fear and wade in.” Little did she know, just moments, mere seconds before, I had prayed, “God, I feel like you’re trying to tell me something, and if you are, I want you to tell it to Robin on the other side of this room and I want her to walk over here and tell me.” So, God did just that.
SORRY, WHAT? Yeah.
Here’s something I learned in that moment; when we come before God boldly, He meets us.
It’s in this space of prayer, this space of conversation with God, where He can really soften and mold our hearts. It’s in this space of dialogue where God’s able to restore what has been broken or twisted or manipulated. It’s in this space where God’s able to repair, and replace the junk with what has always been true. It’s here where we give God permission to shape our desires so they fall more in line with His heart. It’s in prayer where I’ve found my ears opening and my mouth closing, as I wait for the Lord to speak, expectant that He will.
I think about the passage from Luke where Jesus is teaching the disciples about prayer,
“I tell you, ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened. What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!” -Luke 11:9-13
What Jesus is talking about here is persistence and habit. Keep knocking, and the door will eventually be opened. Keep praying and your prayer will eventually be answered—maybe not in the way you expect or in the time you expect. But, when the answer comes, we can trust that because it’s from our Heavenly Father, whatever comes will be for the best—remember His wisdom is far beyond our understanding. If earthly father’s can give good gifts to their kids when they naturally have to fight to pursue what is good and holy, how much more can we trust what God gives—God, the essence of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control.
There’s a promise found in the book of James that if we are persistent with our knocking, and our asking, and our seeking of God, He will never fail to meet us. “Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.” (v. 4:8). He will—did you catch that?
So, I’ve been turning over those comforting—and challenging—words from the Lord for the last year, “Let go of the fear to love again, Victoria.” I’ve been praying into them and over them, and drawing near, and asking Abba to give me new sight, new hope, for what love and relationship can be. Somewhere in the messiness of my humanness and experiences with the world, to love another person deeply became something I feared rather than something I saw more of Jesus in. To risk the hurt for the hope of gaining trust, joy, intimacy and honoring love, just seemed too great. But, I’ve been asking Abba to take the fear, handing it over as often as I recognize it trying to settle back down in my soul. And as I’ve been making space for conversation with God I find Him asking me if I’ll let Him redefine what love is; what it looks like, how it will treat me, how it’s meant to be given and received. The Lord’s asking me if I’ll walk with Him towards something new, something good.
Sometimes Scripture refers to God as a potter, and I really like that. I picture Him sitting at His wheel with the clay of my life, taking what I’ve seen as too broken to ever be beautiful again, and slowly but surely He is pulling something extraordinary into existence. His hands are strong and skillful, but gentle as He takes the pieces and not only repairs but makes new; washing water over cracks in the softened clay He fills in what was lost, and wholeness forms.
The hum of His voice is steady and confident as He works, “Love as I intended, Victoria, is going to be patient. It will wait and work with kindness. Love as I intended will not be heavy with envy or revel in jealousy. Love as I intended won’t puff up with pride or self-righteousness. Love that’s true will not fight for its own way without regard for others. Love as I intended will not be easily irritated and it won’t harbor resentment or bitterness. Honest love doesn’t crouch in the shadows waiting to catch someone in the wrong, but instead rejoices and celebrates what is true, honoring, and full of Me. Love as I intended believes the best in others and hopes the best for them. Love as I intended, Victoria, is steady and true; it has no end. Trust me.”
This is love, actually.
