It all began two years ago. Exactly two years ago. 
If you would've asked me then if I had thought my greatest lover would actually capture my heart by first ripping it into pieces, in all my brazen stubborness, I would've said, "Hell no!"
At that time, I was subletting an apartment in Philadelphia for the summer, finishing up the Master's of Applied Positive Psychology program and working full-time at the University of Pennsylvania. I was about 3 months out of a serious relationship that should've ended a year earlier. I was a free woman, and life was going very well. I was weeks away from accomplishing a major goal that I had been persistently working hard at for the past few years. And in my mind, my future looked picturesque. I saw the makings of my very own American Dream – a book deal and speaking engagements – a successful career, a great husband, a nice house uniquely decorated with a mix of vintage and modern things, dinner parties with friends, perfectly maintained hair, a killer wardrobe and shoe collection, and two kids, cute in both personality and appearance. It played out in my head with a great sense of ease and confidence.
But about midway through the summer, things began to change, and for no obvious reason I began to feel unsettled and unsatisfied. How could I feel such things, especially at the tail end of earning an Ivy League master’s degree in the "science of happiness"? It didn't make sense to me at all.
As I was wrapping up my Master's, I was working on a final project called a capstone. My capstone was to write a book proposal for my book titled: Thrive: Turning Challenge, Fear and Risk into the Good Life. For a solid 6 weeks, I poured myself into this project night after night, sweating and typing away in my quaint Philly sublet.
At that time, I also smoked cigarettes. Even though the smoking was a remnant habit of the bad relationship I had just gotten out of, and even though I wanted to quit, there was something so seductive about the notion of being a “writer” who smoked cigarettes. I couldn't smoke in the sublet, so I'd write for a bit and then head outside to the balcony for a smoke break. Every time I stepped out onto that balcony, my eyes were filled with this overwhelming view of a beautiful, stone church. As I puffed away on my smokes, I felt a sense of guilt as if God Himself were staring at me from across the street, waving His finger at me for willfully choosing to inhale toxins. But that didn't stop me from smoking. After a week or so, even in all it's beauty the church became like a nagging spouse. Every time I looked at it, I felt shame. What was more annoying was that it was THE church that my brother had encouraged me to go to a few years prior. I never went. In fact, it had been about 7 years since I had really been to a church on a regular basis. But even though I didn't go to church, I prayed quite regularly. I believed in God, and that Jesus guy seemed legit too, but I didn’t take my faith seriously.
Night after night, I'd come home from work and write and smoke cigarettes and grapple with that tinge of shame that struck me every time I lit up. I'd write about joy and gratitude and courage – the ingredients of a thriving life. I'd read research article after research article on these topics. I wanted to be purely scientific with the advice I was writing. Still… deep down, I couldn't shake the thought that these same topics appeared in the Bible (a book I didn't really like at the time). I couldn't ignore the fact that God was truly the author of living a thriving life…. even though there was a piece of me that desperately longed for freedom from that fact.
My aversion to the Bible was quite strong. The times I had tried to read it in the past, especially the Old Testament, I was fairly unsuccessful. I couldn't understand it nor could I find any real application to my personal life. So, I did what most curious, not-even-luke-warm Christians do – I avoided the Bible completely, and I began reading Christian inspiration. In particular, I read Francis Chan's Crazy Love. So, night after night, I would write and smoke… and read Crazy Love – which struck my heart in a profound way. Between the research, the writing and the reading, I became aware of the greatest discrepancy of my life. I had come across research that showed that people are best likely to thrive when they align their actions with their core values.
At that time, I was about as goal-oriented and task focused as anyone could be. Relationships were secondary. My faith didn't even make my list of top 10 priorities. And it’s quite possible that eating cheesesteaks and color-coordinating my wardrobe were higher on the list than God. But here was the problem: even though I actively denied God, deep down I desperately yearned for a relationship with Him. Even though I wasn't living out my faith, I sincerely valued it. But I wasn't sure I was ready to full-on embrace Christianity. When I noticed this great chasm between my values and actions, I felt lost and confused. What had begun as an unsettling in my heart turned into a full-on raging war. A heavy feeling of anguish crushed my chest as I fought for relief – yet there was none to be found.
For the first time in years, I really had no idea who I was or what I wanted in life. After working hard for this Master's degree, I thought I had had it all figured out. And for weeks I struggled with all of this, not telling anyone. I tried desperately to "fix" it on my own, but all of my professional experience and training on the “Good Life” did nothing to actually propel me toward happiness. I was in a place where I could do nothing to help myself. Until one day in the midst of despair, I cried out to God while sobbing, "Fine! Whatever you have to do to get me back to you, do it."
And that's when things first changed. That’s when the romancing and renovating began…
NOTE:
I write this story not just for you, but also for myself as my best attempt to etch the story of my greatest love affair into memory so that when I'm going through the desert, I'll read this and know – without any doubt – that I am just where God wants me to be. That He's orchestrated every single step of my life… and that He's been with me all the way. I also write these things to you as a testimony of His great love and power. Despite my initial denial of Him, God has done some completely amazing things in my life that I absolutely have had no hand in. I pray that when you read these posts, God will speak to your heart through them – perhaps differently for each person, but still something you personally need to hear. Thanks for reading!
With Love,
aj
