How funny it is that God's timeline is often so extremely different from our own!
Personally, I find it hard to trust God's timing and know that He is guiding me according to His goodness. How perplexing it is, though, that I find myself arguing with His ways! He is the only constant that we have as believers, and we need and have to earnestly seek our only guidance and direction every single day from our perfect Father.
God's timing was perfect. He had been preparing my heart to share honestly with the girl whom I admired, and little did I know that He was as well so carefully shaping her heart to receive such information. I am so thankful for His timing.
During the Christmas break after our sudden encounter on the last day of the semester, our relationship rekindled. This time, however, there was a different purity about it. Because I knew that I had to be honest and transparent with her in order to have a healthy relationship, I eagerly approached the Father and prayed earnestly for a direction in this conversation. It needed to take place, but I still had fear. I feared that she would not be understanding, caring, approachable, or even forgiving of the matter. I remember the exact location of our conversation -- about four rows up on the brand new football bleachers. We sat, individually in our own seat, knowing that an intimate and absolutely needed heart-to-heart was about to transpire. As I began to share my story with her -- the discovery and fear of my struggle as a young boy, the relationship I indulged in, the renewing of my mind and discovery of the beautiful blessing it is to trust God with such a sharp thorn -- her eyes softened and her heart graciously opened.
My mind was blown.
Through the sharing of my personal testimony and what seemed like a little redemption in my life, she was ecstatic and so full of grace for the opportunity to even hear such a story. I couldn't understand it, honestly. I knew this would drive her away, I just knew it. . . But it didn't. It opened up a completely different layer for our relationship.
Honesty.
Transparency.
Vulnerability.
Trust.
Grace.
I was one lucky guy to have such a wonderful and mature woman of Christ completely trust her Father with such a confusing and dim-lit situation. All I had were my words, and she trusted the Holy Spirit's leading in such a way that made my words hold such a higher value. Our relationship lavishly blossomed and we intimately shared our hearts with one another, even the ugly parts. I was at my happiest and knew that this was something good.
I pushed away my one hidden problem that allowed me to not be completely honest in our relationship. After all, it was a freshly stitched gash that I couldn't bring myself to elaborate on. I did tell her everything, but stopped once I got to a particular point in my story. College. There was a nauseating punch in my stomach when I thought about telling her the components of my very recently conquered addiction to the app and what it had exposed in me to partake. I knew eventually that I would tell her, but something that had happened only a couple of months before this, there just wasn't a way I could do it. I had to carefully plan when I could explain such a tender, exposing, and frankly embarrassing segment of my life. Until then, I hid it away and waited cautiously for the right time. But waiting only made it harder to flee, easier to covet, and allowed freedom for my sin to grow dangerously without hesitation.
I needed something. I knew exactly what it was, and my skin so avidly longed for it. It was just at a touch of a button, simply at the tips of my fingers, easily accessible, waiting for my eyes to lock into its stare and engage in its game. It was eagerly knocking on my door and I let it in, giving it permission to pull even tighter around my wounded soul, suffocating my being and making me beg for a way to get whatever it urged me toward. I wanted that guy on the other side; I wanted to be secretive; I wanted what I couldn't openly have. Still, after all that time of change and redemption, I begged for a way to find it again. And this time, I'd be smart. This time I wouldn't tell anyone. This time I was in a relationship so no one had a reason to think otherwise. This time, it would work.
It had barely been a month. A month.
I gave in.
I broke.
I lied.
I cheated.
I reverted.
I gave up.
A month.
Every single day I was on the app. Every night before I went to bed. Every morning when I woke up. Every time I had a space to myself where no one could see my screen, I was on the app. It was my acceptance, my engine, the fluid that ran through my veins. It drove me every day. I would use it all that I could, then delete it when my relationship became reality. Quickly afterward, when I was safely alone, the app would come back and invite me in for whatever I possibly could have missed.
Eventually my heart grew numb. It became the norm for me to dedicate a little bit of my time to my relationship, then lather myself in the toxic conversions offered within the app. I pushed back any aspect of it all that made me feel bad about my actions and allowed myself to focus on my own needs.
I disgustingly trudged through the swampy mess of my life while pretending I was floating above the clouds with the birds. What an ugly sight it was to anyone who could see the truth.
I went home for Spring Break expecting to spend every waking moment I had available on the app. I had found a consistent conversation, one that always picked up wherever it left off before, that went on for weeks. With my time spent at home the opportunities were endless. I met someone through the app who was very similar to me, and we decided to exchange contact information so that we could get rid of the app. It was hard for me, but I liked this guy and knew that deleting the app would result in something somewhat good, maybe. By the end of the week, I decided my relationship -- if I could call it that -- had to end. I knew that ultimately what I was doing was not fair to her, whether I wanted to admit it or not, and I had to get out before anything went any further. It seemed only right. So I made up a reason to break up (we had been having problems of course because of my inconsistency in our relationship), and I was free. Free to live the way I wanted to without regards or rules, limits, or lines that I couldn't cross. I was successful. I was the king of secrets, getting what I wanted while still having the best of both worlds. No one knew besides he and I, and who we trusted. It was easy.
How could I have done this? How could I turn my back on all the progress I had been making, on someone who trusted me and opened her heart to mend with mine? What a disgusting thought: I threw away something worth more than anything mankind could create just for my own selfish, fleshly, personal desires. When I observe my decisions now, I know exactly why I gave in, broke, lied, cheated, reverted, and gave up. I had eventually started finding my redemption in myself. What a vicious and desperate road I travelled. The consequences of my actions are still apparent to this very day, and I can only let God use those results to further His kingdom no matter how difficult or hurtful it may seem. I cannot run away from the fact that I allowed myself to indulge in such secretive and rebellious activity while trying to pursue such a relationship on the opposite spectrum. I cannot take back the tears I caused to stream down her face and the faces of so many others when my actions were so horrifyingly exposed. I cannot replace the hurt, pain, or anger she had toward me with love, grace, and mercy. I cannot fix anything.
But my Father can. And He has done so beautifully. He used others who were aware of the situation that was enticing me and gave them an action, one that was beyond difficult for them. They had to break my trust in order to follow the Holy Spirit's instruction; they had to tell her the truth about my behavior; they had to make a decision to please me, or please the Father.
I am exceptionally thankful and grateful that they chose the Father.
During the Christmas break after our sudden encounter on the last day of the semester, our relationship rekindled. This time, however, there was a different purity about it. Because I knew that I had to be honest and transparent with her in order to have a healthy relationship, I eagerly approached the Father and prayed earnestly for a direction in this conversation. It needed to take place, but I still had fear. I feared that she would not be understanding, caring, approachable, or even forgiving of the matter. I remember the exact location of our conversation -- about four rows up on the brand new football bleachers. We sat, individually in our own seat, knowing that an intimate and absolutely needed heart-to-heart was about to transpire. As I began to share my story with her -- the discovery and fear of my struggle as a young boy, the relationship I indulged in, the renewing of my mind and discovery of the beautiful blessing it is to trust God with such a sharp thorn -- her eyes softened and her heart graciously opened.
My mind was blown.
Through the sharing of my personal testimony and what seemed like a little redemption in my life, she was ecstatic and so full of grace for the opportunity to even hear such a story. I couldn't understand it, honestly. I knew this would drive her away, I just knew it. . . But it didn't. It opened up a completely different layer for our relationship.
Honesty.
Transparency.
Vulnerability.
Trust.
Grace.
I was one lucky guy to have such a wonderful and mature woman of Christ completely trust her Father with such a confusing and dim-lit situation. All I had were my words, and she trusted the Holy Spirit's leading in such a way that made my words hold such a higher value. Our relationship lavishly blossomed and we intimately shared our hearts with one another, even the ugly parts. I was at my happiest and knew that this was something good.
. . .
I pushed away my one hidden problem that allowed me to not be completely honest in our relationship. After all, it was a freshly stitched gash that I couldn't bring myself to elaborate on. I did tell her everything, but stopped once I got to a particular point in my story. College. There was a nauseating punch in my stomach when I thought about telling her the components of my very recently conquered addiction to the app and what it had exposed in me to partake. I knew eventually that I would tell her, but something that had happened only a couple of months before this, there just wasn't a way I could do it. I had to carefully plan when I could explain such a tender, exposing, and frankly embarrassing segment of my life. Until then, I hid it away and waited cautiously for the right time. But waiting only made it harder to flee, easier to covet, and allowed freedom for my sin to grow dangerously without hesitation.
I needed something. I knew exactly what it was, and my skin so avidly longed for it. It was just at a touch of a button, simply at the tips of my fingers, easily accessible, waiting for my eyes to lock into its stare and engage in its game. It was eagerly knocking on my door and I let it in, giving it permission to pull even tighter around my wounded soul, suffocating my being and making me beg for a way to get whatever it urged me toward. I wanted that guy on the other side; I wanted to be secretive; I wanted what I couldn't openly have. Still, after all that time of change and redemption, I begged for a way to find it again. And this time, I'd be smart. This time I wouldn't tell anyone. This time I was in a relationship so no one had a reason to think otherwise. This time, it would work.
It had barely been a month. A month.
I gave in.
I broke.
I lied.
I cheated.
I reverted.
I gave up.
A month.
Every single day I was on the app. Every night before I went to bed. Every morning when I woke up. Every time I had a space to myself where no one could see my screen, I was on the app. It was my acceptance, my engine, the fluid that ran through my veins. It drove me every day. I would use it all that I could, then delete it when my relationship became reality. Quickly afterward, when I was safely alone, the app would come back and invite me in for whatever I possibly could have missed.
Eventually my heart grew numb. It became the norm for me to dedicate a little bit of my time to my relationship, then lather myself in the toxic conversions offered within the app. I pushed back any aspect of it all that made me feel bad about my actions and allowed myself to focus on my own needs.
I disgustingly trudged through the swampy mess of my life while pretending I was floating above the clouds with the birds. What an ugly sight it was to anyone who could see the truth.
I went home for Spring Break expecting to spend every waking moment I had available on the app. I had found a consistent conversation, one that always picked up wherever it left off before, that went on for weeks. With my time spent at home the opportunities were endless. I met someone through the app who was very similar to me, and we decided to exchange contact information so that we could get rid of the app. It was hard for me, but I liked this guy and knew that deleting the app would result in something somewhat good, maybe. By the end of the week, I decided my relationship -- if I could call it that -- had to end. I knew that ultimately what I was doing was not fair to her, whether I wanted to admit it or not, and I had to get out before anything went any further. It seemed only right. So I made up a reason to break up (we had been having problems of course because of my inconsistency in our relationship), and I was free. Free to live the way I wanted to without regards or rules, limits, or lines that I couldn't cross. I was successful. I was the king of secrets, getting what I wanted while still having the best of both worlds. No one knew besides he and I, and who we trusted. It was easy.
. . .
How could I have done this? How could I turn my back on all the progress I had been making, on someone who trusted me and opened her heart to mend with mine? What a disgusting thought: I threw away something worth more than anything mankind could create just for my own selfish, fleshly, personal desires. When I observe my decisions now, I know exactly why I gave in, broke, lied, cheated, reverted, and gave up. I had eventually started finding my redemption in myself. What a vicious and desperate road I travelled. The consequences of my actions are still apparent to this very day, and I can only let God use those results to further His kingdom no matter how difficult or hurtful it may seem. I cannot run away from the fact that I allowed myself to indulge in such secretive and rebellious activity while trying to pursue such a relationship on the opposite spectrum. I cannot take back the tears I caused to stream down her face and the faces of so many others when my actions were so horrifyingly exposed. I cannot replace the hurt, pain, or anger she had toward me with love, grace, and mercy. I cannot fix anything.
But my Father can. And He has done so beautifully. He used others who were aware of the situation that was enticing me and gave them an action, one that was beyond difficult for them. They had to break my trust in order to follow the Holy Spirit's instruction; they had to tell her the truth about my behavior; they had to make a decision to please me, or please the Father.
I am exceptionally thankful and grateful that they chose the Father.
No comments:
Post a Comment