I’ve spent most of my life in solitude, so it is strange
to me that at this stage in my life where God has blessed me with friendship, I can still feel so alone.
Over the last months of my life, God has given me wonderfully thick friendships. And so I
was confused last night initially, wondering why I would be alone at yet
another event.
With seven hours spent on understanding suffering, ironically,
part of that time was dedicated to the story of Job.
Last night was designed by God. How else could I understand why I was alone?
Thinking back over my life, being alone has given me so
much. So much pain. So much
appreciation for Christ.
I wonder sometimes what people think as they read what I
write on this blog. Am I thought of as
selfish, or conceited, or attention-starved, or self-centered…or lonely?
I write because I know the deep ache of being alone and
the haunting hurt loneliness brings. And
because I know this pain so intimately, a vow has been made. Because God has loved me so and has filled my
life with love, I have promised Him that I will heed His call and use this pain
for others—that I will do as much as I can to open my heart, to let somebody—anyone—know
they’re not alone.
Because ultimately, we feel more alone than we really
are. I write not out of a desire to
share my life for the mere sake of sharing, but in the instance that someone
should stumble upon my words and know that pain, loneliness, guilt, and shame
are not isolated emotions that separate them from others.
The more I know God, the more I understand why He has
ordained my life to be as such. Because
of what He’s brought me through, I’m capable of being alone when He calls me to
be, because I am beginning to understand it—suffering—serves
a higher purpose.
And last night opened my heart and set if aflame for I
felt knowledge wash over me like I have never experienced before. A passion was ignited in my heart, and I
realized how desperately I want to share the gospel with others. Pain is real, suffering is real, but God is
real. And that is what most do not know.
Last night, with love deepening for Christ, He pointed me
to look at my past relationships. From
the “sovereign perspective of heaven,” I watched each fall apart. And part of me understood. Part of me realized that God knew that those
men and I were not headed in the same direction. Not that
their direction is any less than mine, but ultimately at some point our desires
and purposes for Christ would diverge us.
And I think now if any of those relationships had worked,
I would not be fulfilling my life for Christ, because I would have been satisfied with settling. And here God has orchestrated the greatest
moments of my life through loneliness—that I forge ahead because of it! I wouldn’t be learning about Him. I wouldn’t be pushed to extend myself outside
of the immediate community. I would be
satisfied with loving God a little less, because my life in the world would not
call upon Him.
In my heart of hearts, I desire to be uncomfortable. I desire to live my life in such a way that I
beg for the world to despise me—for my love of Christ to be so great, that the
Enemy fights to take me down.
Now, my flesh is terrified. What does that mean? Will I lose my car? My job?
My friends? My family? But in the “sovereign perspective of heaven,”
will these keep me from glorifying God?
My heart dedicated to Christ craves glorifying Him.
I pray for discomfort, because I want to be a threat to
the Enemy. I don’t know what His plan holds for me, but as I edge on in this
OYC, as I grow stronger in my faith, as my knowledge grows, there is a deep,
unsatisfied desire to reach people.
And I want to be unsatisfied, because our dissatisfaction
keeps us close to Christ and ultimately the will of God.
Dear God, it is my deepest desire to pursue You, to love
You. And I see now why those
relationships were ripped out of my life.
You knew we were different. You
knew our desires were different. You
knew our walks for You and with You would be different. For the first time ever, I say, God, if I can’t
have a husband whose purpose mirrors sanctification of Your children, then I’m
okay with what that means. Because
loving You and honoring You, and serving You means so much more than a marriage
that will satisfy only my flesh. I beg
that when I begin to date again, You give me eyes to see a man who ultimately
wants to love You and glorify You, even in the midst of discomfort, because he
will know You are our satisfying reward.
No one should be alone, Father. No one should not know You. And I want to live my life in such a way that
I can share You even when I’m scared, even when it’s dangerous. Your purpose is higher than my pleasure. You know in my heart of hearts that I want to
be married, but not at the cost of spiritual suffocation.
When I take my last breath, oh, Lord, I want to know I
followed You and I did Your ways and I lived how You wanted me to love. And I pray that my passion for You continues
to grow and that my knowledge of You continues to deepen, so that I may move
from this self-examination and healing stage into sharing You confidently with
others, serving Your purpose for my life.
At the end of this, I don’t even know if tonight’s post makes any sense. So in an attempt to summarize:
·
My passion for Christ has increased.
·
In doing so, I’ve realized that God is my
ultimate love.
·
And I only want to be married if I have a
husband who shares a passion for Christ.
·
Because my mission while on this earth is to
share that passion with others.
·
So that they may not stand alone, but sit next
to the throne of God, in love, in redemption.
·
Because this world is dying and we have a
responsibility to love and save.
