In the past, I have attempted to write my blogs from a more pragmatic approach, knowing my audience would be fairly diverse, from believers in God, to believers in a god, to those who don’t generally believe in the existence either. After being raised in the American version of “Christian” church, then leaving the bubble and seeing faith in action around the world, I have found a lot of times the “christianese” we speak has a tendency to isolate most of those who have not been brought up inside the bubble. I understand there will be an aspect of our vernacular as Believers that will be different. But when we speak in a language so unique to our own kind we are unable to extend even the simplest invitation because the everyday person can’t understand what it is we are saying, we have missed the point somewhere along the way.
Disclaimer: this is not one of those pragmatic blogs.
Not because I don’t wish it to be, but I don’t know how to describe what happened in a “sensible” way. Honestly, I’m not sure there is any sense to it at all. I’ve tried my best to remain as “level-headed” as possible on this adventure. I’ve tried my best to write about the experiences I’ve had in a way that is as genuine as possible. I don’t want this blog to be any less genuine. Taking it at face value, this is just a story: I said a few words, shed a few tears, and laughed until my side hurt. The End.
But for me, it is so much more, because for me, there is more to it than what can be seen…
The Back Story:
I ‘m not sure what fell faster that Wednesday evening, the phone from my hand or the tears from my eyes. My glass slipper was shattered. My fairytale was over. “Forever” had an expiration date after all. What took a year and a half to build was destroyed in a mere four minutes. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t hold on to my “happily-ever-after” any easier than I could hold onto the tears streaming down my face.
I quickly realized the hardest part was not forgetting the past but knowing I had to let go of all the memories I had created of our future together. I had experienced break ups before, but not like this. This one left me devastated and exposed. I had given him my heart with an open hand. In return, I was given it back, bruised, tattered, parts removed, shredded and torn. I picked up whatever pieces of my glass slipper that I could. I used the shards to construct a wall around my broken heart. Love had failed me. I gave everything and in return was left with nothing. I cried for days, months, until I couldn’t cry anymore. It was as if he had died that day, and everything I had given died with him and was buried six feet down.
The worst part was what came to fill the holes. The occasional text messages that used to say “I love you” were replaced with a constant voice inside my head…
You failed.
You weren’t good enough.
You weren’t smart enough.
You were too emotional.
You were too dramatic.
You weren’t worth keeping promises.
He’s a guy. If you were prettier, you could have at least kept him for the superficial reasons.
Over time, the were‘s became are‘s; the what-if’s and should-have’s haunted me. I was living in a nightmare, and there was no way out.
Present Day:
Last night, we were given the opportunity to “receive the Holy Spirit.” (Just go with me on this.) It’s difficult to explain in 120 words or less what that really means. I’ve grown up with this stuff. I’ve been exposed my whole life. I’m barely scratching the surface myself. Let’s just say, without getting into the theology of it all, it is something I still consider…well…weird. But, hey. If I’m willing to risk my life and slide down the side of an active volcano this year, surely I can go all in on something seemingly safer. What’s the worst that could happen??
So, I went for it. (Stay with me.) I was standing by myself, eyes closed. Light permeated my eyelids despite their best effort to block out anything from getting in and distracting me. Suddenly, my mind was full of thoughts. (Really good ones I might add.) I couldn’t control them. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t change the topic. It was like I was being told information from an actual person standing next to me talking (quite loudly) into my ear. The words were poetic, clear, concise, and powerful.
You will speak boldly.
You will speak from a place deep inside you.
They will not be your words but My words.
Suddenly, I heard a guy (a real one) behind me praying. The only thing I heard him say was “all you have to do is accept it.” Immediately, the Voice in my own head said it:
Just say I do
I reacted the only way I could at the moment. I cried and crumpled into a puddle on the floor. I always imagined falling in love and getting married at the age of 24. (Don’t ask why 24. It just seemed like a good, even number to pick.) Here I was, standing in a hotel conference room in the middle of Thailand, realizing all the dreams I had for my life were coming true. For the last six months, I’ve been falling in love with people I never knew existed. Every month, I found my heart heal a little bit more. I found myself becoming a little bit stronger. The pieces of glass removed, refined, transformed into something beautiful, and left behind as a token of love to the people I served alongside that month.
When I got the strength to stand back up, the Voice was back with a new script:
I want to fall asleep with you every night and wake up next to you every morning. I want you to say yes to Me. I created you to love Love. You already know how to love. You know what it means to love completely. All I’m asking is that you love Me the way you loved him, that you pursue Me the way you pursued him, that you worship and idolize Me the way you did him. You don’t have to learn a new skill set. Just redirect your focus. Live out your life the way I created you. Make Me the object of your affection and love. This is all I’ve ever wanted. Just say yes. Let Me be your Happily-Ever-After.
I really like anniversaries and their significance. I can tell you the day I started my first job. I can tell you the day I got my nose pierced. I can tell you the day I had a 4-minute phone call that is the reason I’m writing to you from Thailand and not Suburbia, USA. In this particular moment last night, I was reminded that it was June 27th, exactly 2 years to the day my glass slipper shattered. Once again, I did the only thing I could. I fell back on the floor, this time laughing hysterically. I was having the time of my life with the One who created my life.
Whether you take this story at face value or factor in the additional spiritual aspects is at your discretion. On the outside, the entertainment factor of watching me act like an absolute lunatic is present in both. (If you ask nicely, I’d be happy to reenact.) But for me, the difference I feel is profound. I can’t forget the things that were said in my head last night. A weight has been lifted. The voice that haunted me has been drowned out by a new Voice. The best way to describe how I feel emotionally is to compare myself to a girl who got to marry the love of her life last night. It’s the same giddiness, happiness, and excitement. Call me crazy, I’ve already accepted I am, but I know this is a marriage that will last a lifetime.
