For as long as I can remember I’ve been looking for a savior.
A “Save-er”, someone who would step into the gap in my heart and complete me; I wanted someone to rescue me from the world, my shortcomings, my loneliness, someone to just hop on the scene, accept me as I am and make the world feel like everything was okay. Thus, for as long as I can remember I have been looking at every man I met through the lens of, “Is he the one to save me? Could he be the difference-maker in my world? Is this guy the hero I hope for?” Nearly every, single, time. (and maybe even the few times I didn’t I would be angry meeting certain guys, because I knew immediately that they were NOT what I wanted for a hero and so I rejected them at the deepest levels and pushed them away. Get out of here! I refuse to let you be him!)
When you walk around in a deficit feeling empty and constantly looking for something to fill the void, then you’re going to constantly find things that are equally drawn to the void you have. Like a black hole, you consume and consume and consume… but nothing ever fills the emptiness. Unfortunately, when the things we look for are never enough for long enough, we are always let down and often we make unthinkable compromises in our desperate search for fulfillment. Our needs are supreme. We can begin to excuse the unpardonable because anything can be justified on the road to meet our needs.
Example?
He may have a girlfriend/wife, but he would be happier with me. She doesn’t treat him as good as I would. I want someone who loves me the way he does, he makes me feel worth something. I get cold at night, I hate being alone with my thoughts, what could it hurt to just go over there tonight? We won’t do anything, just cuddle. He was crude, toxic, manipulative and angry; but that was because of his ex, he won’t treat me like that, he loves me. It’s only one time. I can do it without becoming addicted.
The list goes on.
I had a painful and deep realization the other day. I realized through a conversation about my traumatic past that my road of sexual abuse began because of a type of savior complex. In psychology the savior complex is when someone has a profound need or urge to try to ‘save’ the people around them; for me the savior complex is the opposite of saving others, it was 100% me wanting someone to value and save me. I fell prey to a pedophile at 14, the man was older then than I still am today and obviously being a grown man he knew what he was doing was wrong: I was barely 14 and failed to see the reality of my abuse because… well, I had Stockholm syndrome with my abuser.
When I met the man that would go on to manipulate and take advantage of me for the next 4 years, I was lonely. I felt ugly, undesirable, isolated, unseen, unsought, and I never got any attention from guys my age unless they were using me to get to my prettier and more popular friends. I felt hopeless, devoid of worth, devoid of value, I myself was a walking void that didn’t know where to turn to fill the hurt and loneliness inside of me. When that man met me, I would probably have never given him much thought if he hadn’t looked at me the way that he did. It was like a match in the darkness, it set fire to my void and the way he spoke to me filled that void with a burning desire for more of his attention and praise. He looked at me as if I were the most beautiful creature on Earth, he spoke to me with such passion and showered me with compliments, he kissed my hand which made me feel older and suddenly… overnight, really, I thought that the kid inside me was a woman after all. I didn’t bother with the guys my age, who never looked twice in my direction. This man suddenly filled up my void and blinded me to reality, to his twisted appetites and sickening behavior. I excused everything in ignorance because the void was hungrier than ever and the only time I felt a glimmer of fulfillment was when he was with me, praising me, complimenting me, or worst of all when he was touching me.
It sickens me to look back on, at the time he was someone I trusted and believed wanted the best for me. He was seeing other women, he got another person pregnant more than once; but she was only his baby-mama, he told me that I was the one he really loved and wanted to be with. Before I knew it, I had a habit of disregarding men’s relationship status, so long as I got what I needed: I needed men’s attention and approval to fill the void, regardless of the cost. I became afraid of commitment simultaneously, somehow, because one mans attention was never enough, not for long at least. I learned to love with my head on a swivel, always looking for the better-man, the real hero, the dream guy.
I wasted a lot of time pursuing men I knew were no good, because (at least for the moment) they could give me something. I was notorious for dumping guys after only a week or two, because they ceased to contribute to my bottom line. Once the hassle began to outweigh the benefit (their shortcomings, bad habits, irritating behaviors paired with a waning passion and lack of desire on my part) then I dropped them like a hot potato. My cycle would reset and the hunt would begin again.
I was so lonely then. None of their attention, affections, affirmations or gifts even began to stifle the gnawing emptiness I felt inside. I felt hopeless. I felt broken.
When I became a Christian at 20, things began to change. I still felt the lure of the former way I did things in a diminished capacity, but the gnawing emptiness was gone, replaced with an inexplicable wholeness. I didn’t even want the same things I used to. Yet I still somehow looked at every guy and wondered if they were ‘the one’ and after a while I began to put my identity into my friends, church, and the reflections I saw in the eyes of the Christian guys I met. The feeling of wholeness only lasted about 9 months, because I relaxed my hold on Jesus and started clawing at the things I was still missing: like a guy. I didn’t receive any attention from Christian guys at all. I began to think that their lack of interest in me was universal, that I was doomed to loneliness again, and when my friends left the island I lived on around the same time… it was the straw that broke the camels back. I ran back into the arms of men, and now I have an ex-husband to show how successful that was for me.
I can’t even say that sitting here today I’m free from this tendency. I still do it. And it’s exhausting. I’ve travelled to a dozen countries already and everywhere I’ve gone I’ve asked in the back of my mind, “Could this guy be him?” Every ministry, every casual conversation with a new person, and every silent moment alone I have sat and pondered my options. I know what I don’t want in a man, and I think I know now what I do want… but what I think I NEED more than anything?
A still heart that allows Jesus to sit on the throne of my life, trusting his decisions and timing and rulership in my life. To stop getting impatient with God and taking the throne of my heart back from him, trying to run things my own way and watching the kingdom in my life collapse around me…
It’s because we all live with the same voids inside of us. We all have a black hole. If a black hole is sitting on the throne of my life, then of course my life is going to fall apart and never be full enough to satiate the endless emptiness. I think the belief as Christians is that we all have a God-shaped hole in our hearts, and that once we accept Jesus into our hearts that void disappears. I’M HERE TO DISAGREE. LOUDLY. I think that the reality is that once we accept Jesus into our hearts, to allow God to rule the thrones of our lives, the possibility to plug the whole becomes a reality. However, I don’t think God plugs the hole in this life… actually, I don’t think he plugs the hole in heaven either. Hear me out:
Imagine you are a black hole, this represents your dissatisfaction with this life and the constant ‘pull’ you feel towards more in your life or heart. Now Imagine you are a black hole, seated on a golden throne, and everything you grab goes inside of you, but nothing stays there, and nothing lasts long there. Before Jesus, this is us; a hopeless black hole, wanting more out of life, wanting opportunity to find rest from the weary rulership that never seems to do much in the long-run, wanting the constant swirl of darkness inside to abate and the kingdom of our life to flourish in peace.
Now imagine that in comes Jesus, a humble kind and gentle king who offers you his hand, you present to him your throne and ask him to sit and rule for you; he accepts and he seats you at his feet to rest, basking in his warmth, glory and the tranquility you’ve sought after is finally real to you. You don’t cease to be a black hole, not yet anyways. He is there and your swirling stills when you look to him, at peace in gazing upon his light. But when you turn and gaze out at your kingdom and see how Jesus rule is working for you, we don’t always see things go the way we want them, they way we expect, or the way we think is best. So we tell Jesus to move aside for now, we take back our throne and fix our eyes on our kingdom and try to get things the way we want them, and the swirling black hole speeds up getting more and more consuming. Eventually we often realize that our way isn’t working, so we hand the throne back to Jesus, go back to resting in his presence and the churning stills to a very slow, nearly still, pace. But we repeat this cycle, over and over again, and the work we could see accomplished in our lives is detoured, stalled out and started over so many times because of our interruptions in the rule of our hearts.
We as Christians get upset, wondering if there is something wrong with us because we still struggle with desiring the wrong things, desiring control, desiring sin and not having faith in God. My honest opinion is that God leaves us with the slight pull of the void, the draw of the black hole inside, to remind us we are destined for greater life. He doesn’t want us to be so satisfied with this place that we forget he is preparing an eternal kingdom and home for us. Once we give him our hearts, its forever his, even when we try to rule our heart it is still his domain, but he gives us the option of dominion and desires that we trust him and allow him to build the kingdom, because only he knows what will bear the most fruit in your life. He wants us to live for eternity, where the black hole won’t be filled but it will be renewed in perfection. What is a black hole after all, isn’t it the fallout of a dying star? In Psalms 34:5 (NLT) it says, “Those who look to him for help will be radiant with joy; no shadow of shame will darken their faces.” We will be made new, incorruptible, and the desires will all finally be met, fully satiated at last. The constant churning will end, and like little stars we will be radiant and whole, made in the image of the SON (sun), full of life and light. In Isaiah 29:18 it says, “In that day the deaf will hear […] and the blind will see through the gloom and darkness.” And in 1 Corinthians 13:12 we read, “Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.” We can’t rightly rule our own hearts because the darkness of our black-hole-heart which doesn’t allow us to see properly. When we fix our gaze on God, the one who calmed the storms, who conquered death, whose great love drove him to give up his life so we could be with him… when we gaze on his light and grace and love…
When we lock eyes with Jesus, ‘looking full in his wonderful face, the things of Earth will grow strangely dim… in the light of his glory, and grace.’
When we look to Jesus, we finally find our savior; the one who rescues us from ourselves, from our fears, who is always by our side and seeking to love us deeper than any ‘hero’ ever could.
Sitting here, tired of running my own show and watching my attempts fall flat and fatiguing my mind with the possibilities, I am choosing to let it all go. If you’re out there reading this, “Mr. Right”, I really do hope to meet you soon. But if our time is still a long ways off, then I pray we remain faithful to God, to each other, and to the mission he has given us. You’re in my prayers, and I hope I’m in yours too. We serve an amazing God, don’t we? I know someday I will look back at this blog and be really, truly, thankful for choosing to get off my throne and choose rest and trust in our Lord. Why should I freak out worrying about when you’ll come? You know God just as well as I do, and I know he never leaves you or forsakes you (Duet. 31:6).
I have a savior. He is real. He is so good. He is the perfect man who loves me, rescues me, finds value in me, gives me worth, identity, rest and peace. I hope you choose to know Him too.
