Latest Posts

Wait a minute, while we are rendering the calendar

Search

God Vs. Him

20201220_090627

Breakups are like bruises. The first few days you feel surging with power. You have energy to pack their things away, remove their photos from your phone, and with gusto assert you were the wronged party. But then, as days forge on, the marks appear, and you realise the extent of the damage.

Some people believe that relationships are easy come, easy go. I don't agree. Sometimes it's not just the person you mourn, but everything they meant. The family that you loved because they reminded you of your loved one, the plans you both had, being relieved you won't turn 40 and still be on a shelf, having a shared dream to work together towards, planning possible reproduction, and feeling like you finally found your best friend you were intended for.

Then it's all just gone.

At first there's an elation that you might have control back, or that you have earnt a freedom that was lost when they arrived. But as the bruise forms, it hurts. The welt is there, beckoning you remember the good times, and how they made you smile. The way they lit up a room, their smile made you wince in pleasure, or the security of knowing you had found the right person. Not anymore.

My faith became more important to me as the relationship evolved. It became an oxymoron. My being happy with him made me outreach my magnified love to others, including God. His acceptance allowed me to follow who I really was. However, in the end, it was my faith that we began to argue about. He didn't like my church and didn't like that I had to put God first. All the security and certainty our relationship gave improved my self-worth making me feel worthy to God. Suddenly the spiritual perks of our relationship was causing discontent.

Now I feel trapped in a wind tunnel. The pastor said that when we commit to God's principles that we then find peace. But I don't. Instead I feel pain, and find myself backsliding slightly. I fight as hard as I can, gripping a branch to escape the current of the wind, but I feel it pushing me so hard in the opposite direction. Where is the peace? Why hasn't the torrential rains stopped, or the gust of pressure been removed? What am I missing? Why isn't the bruise healing yet?

I keep waiting for new people and places to appear at the end of the tunnel, but they haven't arrived. Changes have happened, and I'm secure in them, but I'm still idle, restless and fed up. Sometimes I'm angry, sometimes miserable, and sometimes just distant. Thinking of the person I lost makes me feel worse because I know they are feeling the same things, but they have to "suffer" it. It's not my job to heal them, or to return to them.

Everything is as God has willed it. He doesn't always put people in our lives to keep them -- just a pit-stop to the next journey. I recognised this as I walked away from him. I'd gathered lessons from him and his family, and the seed I was to plant for them couldn't take root. I'd tried, speaking truth and kindness, and sharing the messages I was to pass on, but the soil had lost its quality and the water was tainted. The farmer and his wife stepped on the seed and squashed its chances of fruiting and giving life.

I know life will get busier in a few weeks and I'll have little time to worry about the seeds, the farmer, his family, or the absent person, but it hurts now. The bruise is such a dark tint that it feels months will pass before it fades. A friend tells me one week per month together, but I don't think this is entirely accurate. Not for me, and certainly not for the other injured party who appears to be alone in their pain. (You can be surrounded by people, but still unsupported in an appropriate way.)

This awful evening will pass like all the others. Fast, I hope. Let the hours guide me to better things and better places, closer to God and His longsuffering love. Let it wrap me up, give me new seeds and locations to plant, and let someone plant tulips in my yard. I will delight in them.

Until then, I wait. Bruise, you have to leave soon!

Circuit Breaker
Reflection: Fade to Black