Day 208

When I saw him, my heart broke.

He walked up to my car, spirit fragmented.  He was still my friend—the one I remembered from high school, but he was also very, very different.

Aged.  Tormented.  Struggling.  Hopeless.

I had come to Christ the winter before this visit, and had not expected to share with anyone back home my new feelings.  But when I saw him, I knew.  I didn’t have a choice.  How could I withhold from him what had saved me?

We talked for hours in that parking lot.  I cried for him.  He cried.  He questioned.  And we continued to talk through the night.

At the end of it, I didn’t want to walk away.  I wanted to keep loving him.  To keep pouring into him.  And I vowed that I would.

When I returned to Memphis, I bought stationery.  I wrote a letter every week for several months.  I didn’t even know if he’d receive them, a nomad sojourning from home to home.  They were filled with words of encouragement, Scripture, promises from God and visions of what could be.  I filled each letter with a piece of my soul and God’s love and sent it to the only address he had given me.  And in my time of desperate need, Streams in the Desert had served as a bouy, so I also sent a copy his way, praying he would receive that and be blessed by it.

Throughout the months I continued to pray for him, but as time has a habit of doing, it slipped away from me.  My letters became fewer and fewer until none were sent at all.

When I returned for another visit in February this year, we didn’t see each other.  Time and opportunity didn’t allot for a reunion, and I left the state supposing he had forgotten me and the hope to which I had so desperately wanted him to cling.

This morning I finally decided to sort through four weeks of mail.

Junk, I murmured.  Ads.  Coupons.  Credit card applications.

Then there it was.  A plain envelope with the words scribbled on front: ONLY GOD CAN.

I flipped the envelope over.

His name was in the upper left corner.

Before I even opened the letter, my heart thumped.  Hot tears formed in my eyes, and I felt a sudden guilt for assuming none of it mattered.  The prayers, the texts, the letters…

Eager to read the contents, I tore through the folding and my pulse raced.

Simply, he unfolded his life for me.  He wrote about school, work, and his pastor.

His what?

Pastor.  Church.  Scripture.  God.

Paragraph after paragraph, I felt feelings of wonderment and remembrance be absorbed all over my body.  Just in awe of the words I was reading.

The beginning of my own journey with Christ was reflected in his words.  The curiousness.  The wonder.  The confusion.  I could sense his mind grasping to make sense of Christianity while trying to keep himself tethered to God in the midst of not fully understanding.

It’s a start, I thought.  A beautiful, beautiful, beautiful start.

We don’t understand how God uses us.  The smallest things we think mean nothing mean something!

God, I will share my life with anyone to whom You call me.  I am an advocate for sharing your life with people in an honest, loving way so that they may see how much God loves us.

I’m a terrible person! I cry.  Look at my hideous life!  Look at what I was, look at what I came through—but even more, look at me now!  Look at the love, the joy.  How immensely my life has changed because God has saved me!

Some believe a blog is narcissism at its core.  But I tell you, I write because I want to share my life with you.  I want you to know my struggles, my accomplishments, my joys, my pains, because it’s a door.

A door for non-believers to move past stereotypes and see we’re not so different.

A door for believers to know we share the same struggles.

A door for the in-betweens, those plagued with illnesses, those that have suffered serious tragedies.  Anybody.  Everybody.

You do not walk alone.  You are never alone.  And you cannot overcome it on your own.

But He can.

He walks with you, if only you’ll let Him.

And there is nothing more beautiful to a believer than when someone comes to Christ.

This is why I will spend my life, married or unmarried, seeking out those God calls me to seek.  To save.  To love.

Love comes in many forms.  But true love is in the way of the Lord.

And I will share that message, in any forum, in every forum, until I die.

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another (John 13:34-35).

Day 207

God, I’m going to be blunt.

A husband is at the end of my list right now.  I know, the priority of the girl doing the OYC isn’t a husband right now?!

Gasp.

Yes, that has freaking fallen to the last of my list, because other things have finally taken the front seat!

What?!

Yeah!  A purpose beyond that of being a wife.

God, I need You to give me something I can be passionate about.

I feel and I’ve felt like I’ve been walking aimlessly now for the last…at least…year of my life.

My deepest desire is for the Kingdom.  I just don’t know how to serve it.  I don’t know how to use what I’m good at to save people.

I want to be passionate about something.

I want to be on fire.

I want to make a difference.

I want to change lives.

I want to do whatever You want me to do.

So what is it?

Or are you asking me, still, to wait?

And, if so, wait for what?

What are you showing me in this midst of the silence?

I am begging You…You see me down here on my knees, God?  Give me something to do!

I have at least two people in my life that are passionately pursuing their paths designed from You.  And I am so encouraged and challenged by their hearts.  They are amazing people, Christ!  Now could You please set a desire in me?  Or at least a path to get me to that point?

Where can I serve?  Who can I call out to?  Who can I disciple?

Freakin’ disciple me!  Bring somebody into my life that can lead me, guide me, show me, counsel me, push me!

God, give me these things so I can at least adequately and pursue Your heart!

Little bit frustrated.  Little bit challenged.  Overall excited.  But so desperate to find purpose.  Help, Christ and the Holy Spirit!  Lead me to the fount that will give an answer, a direction…

I love You, and I trust You.  You can do anything.  You can make the impossible, possible.

…my best friends can be saved.

…my family can be saved.

…my brother can be healed.

…I can be healed.

…you can make me a wife.

…and I know You can ignite inside me a passion for something.  Anything!

Let’s start making the impossible, possible, God, like only You can!

Day 206

She came in alone today.

She hadn’t been alone the last few times we saw her.

Wearily, in a soft tone, as I welcomed her, she said, “You know my husband passed away.”

And I quieted.

“Four months to the day of his diagnosis, he passed away.”

And when she departed, my prayers went with her.

When we first met them, it was almost four months ago.

Initially, because of her father’s recent passing, they were coming in to update files.  Flustered, quick-tempered, a type of anxiety was written on the husband’s face.

At the end of a frustrated hour, he seemed to exhale in a way of saying, Look, I’m going to level with you…

“I’m dying…”

At his openness, we were all silenced.

Diagnosed with cancer—a diagnosis that sealed his soon departure from this world—he had but one care.

“I need to know she’s going to be taken care of when I’m gone.”

And I remember that moment.  He said it with strength, dignity, and pure love for his wife.  He fought the tears, but I sensed his desperation, his need for everything to be done and done right.

This was man who was not fighting cancer.  He wasn’t even fighting the bank.  No, he was fighting for her.

And as she walked away from our office today, I remembered his love for her.  Accepting his diagnosis and trusting God, his priority went from his own health to her wellbeing. 

And how special that was for me to see a man love his beloved so much as to make sure she was cared for in the midst of his own personal struggles.

Can you imagine the strength, the trust in God throughout his last months?  Knowing what was to come, being prayerful, but being proactive and seeking out her welfare.

One flesh.

A shift in my heart came.

The last few months God has been showing me images of true love.  Of sacrificial love.  And whenever He reminds me of a love searching out the good for others, I am reassured in my singleness.

As my standards and expections are raised by examples of His love, I know that either I’ll have a husband that fights to sacrifice…or I won’t.

The next guy I date will be special.  There is no doubt in my mind that He is giving these examples to me for a purpose.

His will or no will.

I prayed for her tonight, praying for peace in her heart at her loss, but mostly praising the beauty in her having experienced His love here on earth through him, and knowing that she’ll one day see the man who sacrificed for her right next to the God who sacrificed for all.

Day 205

I woke up at 5:30 in the morning, painfully cold.

For the third morning in a row, the set-to-freezing air conditioning in the beach house refused to let me sleep.  It was obvious God had bigger plans for me than a few extra hours of rest.  I heeded the call, albeit uncomfortably, and rose.

Before the rest of the house awoke, I showered, and made my way back to the beach for one last visit.

The morning was still.  Peaceful.  I walked down the row of colorful houses, admiring the freshness of the day.  Quietly, I began to sing...

Savior I come, quiet my soul, remember

Redemption's hill, where Your blood was spilled for my ransom

Everything I once held dear, I count it all as lost

I hummed a little as I reached the top of the stairs right before the beach.  I sat and surveyed the ocean in all its morning glory.  The sand.  The blues of the water.  The quiet sky.  It was all much too beautiful and as the lyrics continued to run through my mind, the inevitable happened.

I started crying.  Almost to the point to where I was sobbing.

Everything I once held dear, it’s lost.  In my mind, I recounted where I stood a year ago.  Exactly to the day.  A week from today, last year, something would happen that would strike a fire—an initimate implosion that would change my life forever.  And I was fearful.  I was hurting.  I was in a terrible place.  I was a terrible person making terrible decisions.

Despite everything—everything—He stopped me.

He loved me enough to stop me.

And it’s exactly His love that brought on the outpouring of emotion in front of His beautiful creation this morning.

Redemption.  Much of this trip was an opportunity for redemption.

He gave me the chance to do certain things over.  To act differently.  To speak differently.  To be different.  And maybe most importantly for this time in my life—to see the difference.

I almost can’t believe just how much has changed since May of 2011.

Changes I had always deep down desired but never had reason or strength to pursue…He answered.  And I feel it.  I feel how I’ve changed.  And I feel Him.  I feel it like I can feel the wind on my face, the ocean waves lapping at my toes, the sand beneath my feet.

I know He exists, because who I am now—this complete transformation—has nothing to do with me or who I was.  I had not the strength, the will, nor the desire to change until He came into my life and rescued me.

He could have let me drown in my ocean of sin.  He could have let me die.  But He didn’t.

I am so grateful to God for showing me that I am not who I was 365 days ago.  I am so honored and humbled that He met me where I was and tore me from my worthless pursuits.  I am so thankful that He reminds me from where I came, and pushes me further, encouraging me to drive closer to Him.

And the closer I draw to Him, the farther away I walk from myself.

Today was a reminder of what was, what is, and because of Whose grace and compassion and love and righteousness and mercy that I am saved.

As I stood from my seat, I breathed a silent farewell to the image of majesty set before me, and wept tears of gratitude, humility, and love.  I feel Him now more than ever.  And it’s encouraging, overwhelming, scary, reassuring, and unbelievable all at once.

Day 200

This kind of love it's what I dreamed about

Yeah it fills me up

Baby it leaves no doubt

This kind of love it's why I'm standing here

It's something that we can share

I can't enough of this kind of love

This Kind of Love, Sister Hazel

I loved him.

It may have been one of the shortest love stories of my life, but it was by far the most powerful.  A lot of nights lately I think of him.

I miss him, I think.  And I think.  And I think.

And then I thought, But why do I miss him?

And I started thinking about what I miss about him.

His friendship.

What is friendship?

Friendship is loving someone for all that they are, through all that they are.  I miss that he loved me for all that I was, knowing everything about me.  I miss how we laughed together, and how goofy we were.  I miss how we were friends.  I miss how he respected me.  I miss how I could so freely be myself and that he loved me through it all.

And as I let these thoughts drift through my mind, I do miss him, yes, but it’s more I miss what was because I don’t believe this will ever happen to me again.

To have someone know me—know all of me—and love me still.  To want to be with me.  To be tender with me, to be my best friend, to laugh with me, to enjoy the same things together.

I think this is why Bryan’s prayer on Sunday caused tears to well up.  His words of a loving, but strong husband left me feeling empty.  Who would ever be that to me?

I think myself so odd that I may fare better alone than ever with anyone again.

No, not fare, but be left stranded, for who would die to themselves so much that they would love me?

Even now as friends prime me for dates, as men are beginning to notice me, as I’m beginning to have options, I really don’t see them as options as all.

Someone is laying groundwork.  God, I feel You starting something.  Right now, He’s lining up men I can and will say no to, because I’m developing some standards.  It's like a practice run.  An exercise.

But the flip side is this: when other men ask—men that I feel would be lowering their standards to date me—will I say yes even then?

Or will I make the decision for them?

Suddenly, I leave the realm of me simply saying No, I’m not attracted to you and bump into No, I’m not good enough for you so let me save you the trouble of getting to know me and let you spend your time on another woman who would be such a better wife to you, a woman not so stained and heart so battered.

There is a part of me that believes the lie that it was a fluke that he came into my life.  It was all a fluke; the timing, the love, the circumstance.  It wasn’t a gift from God, because I don’t deserve gifts as beautiful as that one.  And if it’s a fluke, it’s not likely to happen again.

How little do I trust my God with this?  I choose to be led to see differing patterns of either He never gave and it was coicidence, to He gives, but only to take away.  It happened with him, and it happened with my community.

There is so much hurt in my heart still.  Deep, settled, rampant hurt.  And I know I want to trust Him with my heart.  I just don’t know how to get there.

And so I think of what’s past and wonder if I’ll ever feel that way again, or if I’ll keep my heart locked up forever.

Happy 200th day, beloved, I hear Him say.  I know it's only by Him that I have come this far.  So why do I feel so hopeless?

Day 199

Within the last couple of weeks I've grown so miserable.

Something inside of me is being ripped.

And it's leaving a gaping hole in its tracks.

But what is it?

I have friends.  Friends who make me laugh, who listen to me complain, who encourage me, and who sit beside me in the moments I need them the most.

I have a church.  A Biblical, God-fearing, God-aiming, people-loving-and-edifying church.  The very thing I searched for, for so long I have.

I have a home.  An apartment that I can come home to and relax in solitude.

I have a job.  A job that pays the bills and doesn't drive me crazy.

I have self-worth.  The OYC has given me so much.

...and yet, here I am, feeling emptier than I have in a long, long, long time.

And insatiable hunger...but for what?


And this hunger leaves me angry.  Unforgiving.  Condemning.

Just what is this feeling I'm feeling, and how do I overcome it?

Day 198

I used to think that if a man sunk so low as to ask me out, I owed it to him to say yes.

Whoever asked me out was doing me a favor.  Horrible, ugly little girl I was, I was lucky to have anyone ask me out.

And I kept owing and paying until it was given and until He said stop.

And I stopped.

It’s been 198 days.

And something miraculous happened two weekends in a row.

After six months of never being asked out, I was asked out.

Two weekends in a row.

Two men that, in a former life, I would’ve weighed the little options I had, and said yes.

Instead I said no—though not because of the OYC, although it gave me a strong foundation that without I would have never had the strength to decline the same path I once traversed.

For once in my life—for twice in my life—I had standards.

What once was a pendulum, a melodic swinging of shifts, swinging between worthless and undeserving, was instead a scale.  On it, was me.  The new me.  New decisions.  New hope.  New standards.  New desires.  On the other side, was the old me.  The old decisions.  The old comforts.  The old deceptions.

So I said no. 

And saying no birthed two trains.

One, I really am changed and new in Christ, and can be stronger through Him.

But, two, with this new ability to walk away, I realized could very well be single forever.

I think this dawned on me Sunday while sitting in church.  Pastor was talking about marriage—praying about it for the congregation at the end of his sermon—and it took everything in me not to cry.

Why would I cry?  Because all I could hear was…

He’s not talking to you.
This isn’t meant for you.
This will never be you.

And sometimes I feel like I take ten steps back for every step forward.  Saw this on my Twitter feed:

And after all this, after all He has brought me through, I still struggle.  Still struggle to believe He is capable—beyond capable.

Less than six months to go and so still much to learn.

Day 195

"My only regret in life is that I didn't have another son for you to marry," he laughed.

"Aaw, I can still call you 'Dad,' right?"

We all laughed.  I was sitting at a table with my best guy friend and his parents.  A family preparing to celebrate a graduation and an upcoming wedding.  I'm ready to celebrate, too.

I reflected on the last two years with my friend and his beautiful soon-to-be wife being in my life.  What an impact they have had on my life!  I have no doubt God strategically gave them to me, knowing fully I needed them.

I remember meeting them several Novembers ago while I was in a terrible relationship, and thinking, "I wish I had a relationship like that one."

I remember as he became the first guy to really love me as a friend, showing me what a Godly man is, and watching him as he continued to lovingly pursue his girlfriend.

I remember as she, though being so young, led me spiritually in moments where I desperately needed a strong Godly woman in my life.  The nights she spent on my couch while she was in town visiting him, and how comfortable she is with who she is in Christ.

There is a part of me that will miss the pre-marriage version of our friendships.  I'll miss her spending the night or him counseling me through relationship and men stuff.

But, then, as I was driving the other day, I heard God say that it's okay to miss people and things and seasons of life.  We don't miss the bad things...

Oh, I miss him breaking up with me.

Oh, I miss her using me.

Oh, I miss that job that made me feel worthless.

If we miss something, it was special.  That's why we miss it.  And I don't know how I didn't understand that sooner.

There have been so many things I've been missing lately.  I wish I could go back to this time, this friendship, this season...

But then I'm neglecting the space for new things, new people, new experiences...

All the people I've gotten to know lately, all the delicious food I've been able to eat, all the fun first-time-things I've been able to enjoy...

If I held onto the same friendships, in the same seasons, in the same place, life would be routine.

Anticipating this wedding, I am so excited for them, and their new life.  She'll be living in town now.  Both of them right down the street.  She’ll be a wife and he’ll be a husband.  And they’ll still be my friends—friends that I’ll get to watch build a life and a family together.

Change can be good.  Change can be great.  And this is opening my eyes to how very good it can be.

Counting down the days to beignets, New Orleans, and seeing two amazing people tie the knot!

Day 194

"Soooooo...are you going to barbecue fest?" he asked.

"Uuuuuuum, I haven't decided yet."

"Well, in case you're not, [so and so] is playing a free concert at Levitt Shell tonight."

"That sounds like fun..."

"Yeah...they had me at 'free.'"

"Haha, 'free' always draws me in, too!"

"If I didn't have to work tomorrow, I'd be there, downtown, but I'll be here...peddlin' booze."

I laughed.

"I'll be there tonight...tall guy, red shirt.  Maybe I'll see you."

I walked away, smiling, liking how he left it open-ended, not asking for my number or pushing for anything.


I figure I complain enough about the gross 60 year-old men in my life that it's high time to give some credit elsewhere.  A few times recently there have been guys flirting with me.  Nothing grotesque in nature or humiliating or derogatory.  Just guys who make me laugh.  And I think that's important to recognize.

Can't complain about the bad and not recognize the good.  There are some guys out there who flirt a little, leave the ball in the girl's court, not being pressing, demanding, or disgusting.  Just good honest flirting.

I've been appreciative of the guys God has maneuvered in my life, even if just for a moment to show that if even some men are attracted to you they're not going to push the envelope to get to you.

I need to see that.  Because I was losing faith in mankind.

Day 193

"Something secondhand and broken still can make a pretty sound."

Smash

Day 192

"So..." he started chirpily.

His voice was happy and curious, and I could tell he was excited even over the phone.

"...how you doing?  Still 365 days?"

I smiled.

"Yes, dad, still 365."

I was tickled to know how much it made him smile.  Of course to Dad, my dating fast is just a time for me to love me.  He doesn't understand the relationship I'm trying to build on God.  But his excitement brings me joy nonetheless.

And it makes me wonder...if my earthly father finds so much joy in my sacrifice, in my discipline...then, how much more is my Heavenly Father rejoicing above?

Of course I'm sure He'd be rejoicing more if I had more faith in Him through this process...more faith in His will for my life and its goodness.

Today I sat next to my coworker, settled in my self-pity.

"It's a trick," she said.  Imitating the enemy, she continued, "'Oh, I can't tempt you with a hottie, but I'm going to test you.  All these old perverts.  It's a test of how you see yourself through God.'"

And she reminded me of a story in this book.

A story of a woman who idolized the blessing rather than worshipping The One Who Blesses.

Will I still love God if He doesn't give me what I want?

Will I still love Him if a marriage isn't in my future?

Will I believe that I'm beautiful to Him without an earthly husband?

That's a huge struggle for me.  Believing I'm worthwhile without relying on a man.  And the further I go through this challenge, the deeper I delve, the more I realize this is a wound that isn't close to healing.

This is the rebuilding time.  The time is now.  Break me down, God.  Help me heal.  Help me see myself through Your eyes.

Day 191

Marriage is like a fairy tale.

I sit, I watch, I rejoice as husbands cradle their wives, wives clamor to their husbands.  This has been the year of weddings, and it's not over yet.

Each time, there is a deep joy in my heart that two people have found each other in the masses and have committed to spending their lives together as one.  With that joy, there's also a subtle ache.  Kind of like the drunk uncle that shows up to the wedding and starts dancing.

You don't want him there, but he is.  Prancing all over your feelings.

I think deep down I believe in marriage.  I believe in love.  I believe in commitment.

But only for other people.

Not for me.  No.  I'm far too stained and far too gone for anyone besides God to love.

I never imagined at 27 that I'd be single.  In fact, there were plenty of things I never thought I would be at 27, but here I am.  All that I have made me to be.  All the sin, all the dirt, and the death.  Forget all that I am and all that God has made me to be—no, I'm far too dirty to be loved by another person.  God is going to have to suffice, I think, because no one else could possibly love me like God.

Who would sacrifice his desires for me?

Who would sacrifice his health?

His wealth?

Who would sacrifice his life for me?

No, no I don't believe in marriage for me.

That dancing uncle is all I have.

How much longer will I ache for the husband that doesn't exist?

Take this fire from me, God, and let me only want You.

Apparently my trust in God is waning.  As is my hope.  And so is the knowledge that I've been forgiven.  Hashtag, more issues to deal with.  Hashtag, sigh.

Day 190

Things are going...

...to be okay.

Whether car troubles, work troubles, friend troubles, community troubles, money troubles, body troubles, beauty troubles, health troubles...

...things are going to be okay.

Because child, you are forgiven and loved.  Every day is an opportunity to cry, to heal, to prepare, to fix, to help, to hurt, to rebound, to try again, to work harder, to love more, to save each other, to be saved by Him.

And I'm trying my best to let Him save me instead of working to save myself.

...which we all know is useless anyway.

Thankful for my mother today, and praying that the Lord saves her soul.  I pray that He brings someone into her life that can share the gospel with her in subtle, endearing ways.  Let her not be frightened, and let her feel peace in You, Christ.  Please bring her to You.  Please let her be saved.  She's my mom.  I love her.

This is the 6th Mother's Day I've spent away from her.  Let someone be at work in her life even if it's not me...

Day 189

Tonight I went to see the movie Think Like a Man.

And I think I know what I want.

And it’s Dominic.

Okay, so not really Michael Ealy—though he is fine.  But who he was in that movie.  A man, not necessarily having much, but having a dream and being someone willing to pursue that dream.

I want…a dreamer with a dream that matches mine.  And mine is to be someone who disciples, sharing the gospel with others.  A life lived for others.  My dream in life is the leave the materialism behind and seek out the world and fight for those in it.

That means my man has to be:

·         A believer.  A nonbeliever and I aren’t walking in the same direction.  We don’t have the same goals.  I want to pursue God.  He wants to pursue a Bentley.  I want to pursue Heaven, he’s walking towards Hell.  Can’t do it.  He’s supposed to be able to spiritually lead me, too.  Ever since Bryan talked about Ghandi, it just set something in my mind: being good is different from being saved, and does not compensate in any way.

·         Outgoing.  He has to be able to reach out to others and be welcoming.  Able to put that first foot forward.  Because otherwise people are going to pass us by.  We have to be willing to be the first to reach out.

·         Talkative.  Quiet men do possess strength, not arguing that.  But I’m a talker.  That’s how I draw people in and how we communicate with others.  He can’t just sit back and be, he has to approach and speak.

·         Biblically sound.  If we’re going to be sharing the gospel, he has to know what he’s talking about, what we’re sharing with others.

·         Sacrificial.  Willing to put others before him.  That’s what a husband does.  That’s what a father does.  That’s what a believer does.  I’ve walked the sacrificial road before and I can’t do it alone.

·         Ambitious.  I want him to be motived.  Motivated to reach out, to provide, to love.  With that though, I want him to be secure in Christ and not things of this world.  If we’re not like every other American family, but we’re following Christ, that’s all I want.

Of course there are other things I want in a man, in a husband, in a partner, in a lover, in a friend…marriage is a big deal.  And in a way I’m so thankful to Christ that I haven’t married the wrong person.

…I didn’t marry the wrong person.

Which means, if God made a guy for me, he’s still out there.

And if there’s not a guy, that still means I didn’t walk down the wrong path.

And because of that, I know there are still so many dreams I have that I am able to follow.

Where will my dreams lead me?

We should believe, believe in each other's dreams

Jesus left a long time ago and said he would return

But he left us a book to believe in

And in it we've got a whole lot to learn

Wholy Holy, John Legend

Day 188

People always leave.

Underneath all my issues lies this.  The perception that has been shaping me since I was young.

Prepare your heart, Jamie, because people always leave.

Don’t let her in, Jamie, because she’s going to leave.

Don’t talk to him, Jamie, because he’s going to leave.

And then something happened.

I let people in.  And.

They left.

As much as I’m trying to reach out, it’s not enough to bring them back.  They’re gone.  That time of my life is over, and it hurts.  It’s on my heart daily.  And I’m furious with God.

Why would He give just to take away?  I had everything I wanted for four months, and now it’s like it never existed.  Why would you do this to me?  Don’t You love me?

Maybe I was naïve.  Naïve to think I could withdraw and return when I was emotionally ready to an intact, unchanged community.  Maybe I was more desperate for community than anyone else there.  Maybe I wasn’t good enough for them to want to stay.  Maybe I just wasn’t enough.  Whatever it is, it’s like trying to hold onto sand.  It’s all just fading away—it’s faded away, and there’s nothing I can do to bring them back.

So why do I keep trying?  The more I try, the more hurt I am.

They’ve left, Jamie!  They’re not coming back.  It’s not going to be like it was, and it won’t be ever again.

So, knowing that, why does it still hurt?

Because my deepest fear was reinforced.  I let people into my heart, I loved them so much, and now we can’t even make time for one another.  It’s true.  It’s true.  People always leave.  What’s the point of letting people in if they’re bound to leave?

I’m struggling so much with this.

What friends do I let into my life?  Girl friends will eventually find husbands and they won’t make time for me—suddenly life revolves around someone else and I disappear.  Guy friends will eventually find wives and the dynamic of our friendship will change.  They move on…why can’t I move on?

Tell my why, God.  I’m asking You now, show me why I need to let people in if they’re bound to walk away?

What’s the point?

-----------------

Minutes after writing this, I checked my Twitter and came upon Priscilla Shirer’s tweet.

Maybe there’s purpose in the pain.  I’m just not looking deep enough.

Day 187

Anger.  Bitterness.  Wrath.

And why?

I've been digging around for that answer throughout the last few days and haven't had much by the way of an answer.

God has been really quiet lately—not that I’ve exactly been in His Word.  Yeah, good job, Jamie.

Lashing out.

I’ve been lashing out, and blaming, and mind-punching people in the kidneys all week.  Miserable.  Deep down there is a hunk of misery that is just sticking to my insides.

What is wrong with me?  And why am I not being better?

I’m so frustrated.  And wish I had answers, and direction.

I just feel so lost.

·         Work.

·         Friends.

·         Mean people.

·         Family.

·         Holidays.

·         Returning friends.

·         Lost friends.

·         Empty friendships.

·         Hurtful friendships.

·         Evil heart.

Some of the things plaguing me right now.  Instead of blogging tonight, yeah, my Bible is sitting right next to me now, buried under fiction.  Praying it leads me somewhere fiction can’t tonight…

I close remembering an e-mail from The Universe today:

Let me be encouraged...not...lost.

Day 185

I've been reading Redeeming Love throughout my OYC, and it seems to be running parallel with my life.

Set in the 1850s, even so, so much of me lingers in its pages.  And tonight I read as Amanda battled with her barrenness.

There is an inexplicable joy, but also a haunting hurting that occurs when I spend time with children.

I volunteer with the kids at church on some Sundays.  And even though it's tiring, there is something very fulfilling about it.  I was with three and four-year-olds last weekend, and this little girl stayed close to me throughout the hour and a half we were together.  I have no idea why she took to me, I, looking nothing like her mother.

But she searched for my hand, rested her head on my knee, curled up in my lap.  And when her mother came to pick her up, she rushed away and into her arms.

As I walked from the empty classroom, I was at peace.  Happy from a full morning.

Minutes passed and I stood with friends in the atrium, planning the rest of the evening.  My mind had switched gears from snack time and dancing to dinners and goodbyes.  That night would be one where the congregation said farewell to a founding member of the church, and I was trying to figure out who else would be in attendance.

And then I felt little arms around my leg.

It was the little girl.  Out of nowhere.  Scampering up to me, hugging me.

Here I thought children had memories of fish.  Two seconds at best.  Nope, here she was, scrambling for another hug.

As a husbandless, childless woman in my prime, my heart lurched.  This beautiful little girl wanting to be near me...

I admit, I have pretty much suffocated any desire to have a husband.  To be a wife.  To have children.  To be a mother.  Suffocate is a good word.  Because any time these dreams come up for air, I stifle them.  I push them away, I push them back down.  Alleviate.  I've tried my hardest to remove whatever desire I had in being someone special to someone special.

...who would want me?

That's the question I always find myself asking.  And instead of waiting for God to answer, I answer for Him.  No one.

And I've made it along pretty well these last six months.  Except when it comes to children.  Children spark something inside of me that I can't push down as easily.

And as I returned to church that evening to say goodbye to the pastor, out of nowhere, again, these same happy little hands found me, reaching up to me, remembering me.

Shouldn't you have forgotten me by now?

What do you keep reigniting inside of me?

Why do you keep running up to me when I think you're gone?

These desires that I think are gone aren't gone.  They're still there, in the pit of my stomach, buried.  And every once and a while they manage to reach out with little hands, wanting nothing more than...me, and remind me deep down of what I want, and may never have.

Day 183

Happy six months of singleness to me!

I have been waiting to say those words for months now, because this is absolutely the most exciting time of my life and I am so happy to be able to celebrate my obedience to God and His faithfulness.

I am prospect-free.  I am proposition-free.  I am free.  And, truly, I am filled with joy and the Spirit like I have never been before, and it's because of Christ that I stand here today and say that.

The week leading up to my six month anniversary was an interesting one.

God had been bringing relationships to the forefront of my focus.  Not romantic relationships, but relationships of every kind.

Long term relationships.

Short term relationships.

Relationships that came to a premature end.

Relationships that weren't honoring.

Relationships that have been continuously honoring and honorable.

Relationships that live but for four hours or for two minutes.

Relationships affected by other relationships.

And I promise I wasn't expecting any of this to be addressed when I stepped into church this morning.  But what did God do through Bryan?  Slapped me with some deep thoughts.

When I left my former church, I left the community expecting to find something better.  I thought I could walk away and into something more holy, less messy, and more loving.

I must've decided to ignore the fact that we're all sinners, because a few months into the new church I was struck with a multitude of struggling relationships.

Can I be friends with this person without hurting this person?

This person dated this person and they're not on good terms; which should I be friends with?

This person hurt me; how can I avoid them?

I hurt this person; how can I avoid them?

This person hurt that person; I'm going to avoid the entire situation.

What started out as a fresh start didn't feel so fresh once I started getting to know people and the relationships that had come and gone, and—not ignoring my own sin—started adding my own hurtful situations into the mix.

A mess.  A complete mess.

And it hurts.  And it sucks.  And Bryan's right.  A lot of it comes from not knowing how to navigate through, around, and in sin.

People have hurt me.  I've hurt people.  Friendships have been compromised.

As Bryan finished the sermon today, I had a few people on my heart that I wanted to reach out to and apologize.  And I could see God pushing me in that direction, because he brought two of those five people to me right after service.

The first half of the OYC has been successful in pulling me out of dependencies on men and relationships.  And when I first started the challenge, my only goal was to become a woman that a Godly man would want.

Now, months later, my goal is to become a Godly woman.  Because in that, there is a key that can unlock all other possible doors.  What it means to be a good wife.  What it means to be a good friend.  What it means to be a good missionary.  What it means to LOVE.

How faithful is my love to Christ if I'm not faithful and loving to His children?

Loving each other isn't always easy.  In fact, it's pretty difficult.

But it's worth it.

Why?

Because being angry or hurt isn’t worth it.

It isn’t worth letting yourself hurt.  Or damaging more relationships.  Or disappointing God.  And when I examine my hurt, the deeper issue is pride and saying that I’m too important to be hurt.  And I’m not important.  Sorry, I’m really not.

Who I am is not more important than the love that should be extended to my brothers and sisters.

Pride is not a worthy cost to separate me from my family in Christ, which, consequently separates me from Christ Himself.

And, really, what is worth that?

Happy six months, Jamie...see you on the other side of six more months.  Let’s do this!

Day 180

It was late November when I found kittens underneath the house in which I was living.  Flea-invested and hungry, I did what I could to care for them.  Working at Petsmart then, it wasn’t too difficult to find homes for them.

And then there was little London.  I had fallen in love with him, and had planned to keep him.  But as the days passed, I realized it wasn’t in his best interest to be there with us.  I was in a house of four dogs and a kitten like him could definitely be loved better elsewhere, so I placed an ad on Craigslist.

It wasn’t long before I was contacted.  A sweet mom seeking a surprise gift for her daughter in time for Christmas.  We agreed to meet, and when she did, she brought her son and his fiancé to meet London, too.

Flash forward five years to today, and I was sitting in a restaurant with a few of my friends.

When he walked up, I was pretty sure it was him.  He didn’t recognize me, of course—hello, five years—but I recognized him.  A little bit older, and a little bit more tired, but life has a way of catching up with us like that.  Despite his business, he was a great server, both attentive and kind.

And as the night continued, I listened to my friends talk about life in retail.  It made me realize all the more why I have such a heart for those of us in the service industry—in retail and consumer industries.

It surprises me to think that we make the least amount of money for what we do, and just how underappreciated we are.  It’s not easy.  A lot of times it’s not fun.  And a lot of times you’re treated like trash.  Just because you’re serving someone, a lot of people see you as beneath them and treat you as such.

If nothing else, this life of mine has taught me humility and appreciation.  How to be humble in service and how to appreciate those serving me. 

Tip well.

Try to make pleasant conversation at every meal.

Say thank you as often as they come up to the table.

Try and stay patient, because most of the time what’s going wrong isn’t their fault.

You want to get theological with it, we’re all servants in the house of God.  So why show your brother any less respect just because he’s wearing a name tag?

Being a servant to Christ isn't placed on paused when you are the one being served.

Looking back on tonight, we may have just been another table to him, but I hope when we left he knew he was appreciated.  Like Bryan says, if you leave your neighborhood and they don’t miss you, they don’t notice you’re gone, something’s wrong.  And in a world where everyone is underloved and underappreciated, whatever we can do when we go out to be different, be different. 

Be loving.  Be appreciative.  Be a good servant to others and be an especially gracious recipient of service.

You never know what you do, what you say, and how you act will affect someone.  We have the ability to make people smile.  Why not make people smile?

And whoever would be first among you must be slave of all. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:44-45).

And he sat down and called the twelve. And he said to them, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35).

Day 179

It had just begun to rain.

I ran upstairs, just making it home from work.  Changing clothes, I almost looked like the surfers for which my native state is so well known.  Long tangled hair, an oversized hoody, and shorts.

The dogs and I ran downstairs, and I just kind of stood in the rain, waiting on them.

From behind us, I heard the familiar sound of the security cart.  The guards make their rounds quite often and an older man is usually on shift when I come home.  When he passes, he normally greets us with a friendly wave.

But when I turned today, it was a guy who had to be younger than me.  So I waved, awkwardly.  He was already smiling, and said something as he passed that I couldn’t quite hear.

Sensing my confusion, he shouted.

“You’re beautiful…you’re beautiful…you’re beautiful!”

All the way down the street.

I laughed.

Really?

The dogs and I walked back up the stairs, and I closed the door behind me.  Half of me was entertained, but the other half of me was frustrated.

I could have a guy tell me I’m beautiful every day and I still wouldn’t believe it.  At this point, it just hurts.  Why does it hurt?

When I was younger, making myself beautiful meant making myself into something men wanted.

And I wanted to beautiful.  Desperately.  And how better to know what a man would want than to watch porn and read magazines like Maxim?

Scantily clad and sexy, and sexual, these women were what every man wanted, and I wanted to be just like them.  And I was.

I based my worth the men around me.

And now that I’m abstaining from sex and not dating, where does that leave me?  Where do I find my beauty?  What is beauty when it’s not based on the perception of someone else?  How do I become okay with myself?  How do I find myself beautiful when the only scale I’ve ever known is void and null?

Because now I hear men call me beautiful and it means nothing.  I’ve always exchanged myself for compliments.  So I think that’s why I become so agitated.  Because I trained myself to believe when someone calls me beautiful, it’s because they expect an exchange.

So, God, what is it?

Now that there’s no exchange, there’s just You.  And how can I feel beautiful in You?  I don’t want to hurt over this anymore.  I want to be okay.  I should be able to take compliments, right?  This isn’t normal.  Help me work through this, because this is one struggle I have no idea how to overcome or navigate.  Please show me how to love myself and let go of the past, and know compliments aren’t currency to be exchanged for goods.

Day 178

“You’re beautiful…so why are you single?”

The inevitable question/backhanded compliment I receive almost daily at work.  My coworkers have stopped keeping tallies it happens so often.

I feel the need to clarify: I don’t think I’m beautiful.  I’m average, at best.  In fact, I think it’s some sick joke of Satan’s that my looks are brought my attention every week day.  It’s either Satan wanting me to feel uglier than I am or God wanting me to feel more beautiful than I think I am.

Whatever it is, let’s humor the question tonight.  Working for a corporation I don’t get to share my beliefs and say what I want to say, representing a “brand.”  So what would I answer if I could answer how I wanted to answer?  It would probably go something like this...

I’m single because God wants me to be.  Not because of looks, brains, or money—but because God just doesn’t want me to be married.  It’s not the right time.  My heart isn’t in the exact place God wants it to be before he introduces me to the one and I have a lot of growing and maturing to do spiritually and emotionally before I even consider dating, much less marriage.  I have to prepare myself, and pray that if I am to have a husband, that he is preparing himself for me, too.

OR, it could also be that…

God’s calling me into the missionary field and probably doesn’t think a family is in my best interest.  I am nowhere near Abraham status, willing to sacrifice my children, and He probably sees me serving Him more as a single woman than a wife or a mother.

Neither of those are really viable American culture.  But those are my answers.  And who really knows what God’s answer is?  He has a plan that is far beyond my understanding, and all I know is I’m resting in His hands.  Whether He’s busy preparing my heart for a husband or for missions, I’ll trust in Him, knowing that whatever He has planned for my life, it is good, and He is sufficient.

So…why am I single?

Three words.

Only God knows.

And, really, that is good enough for me.