Love. This tiny word occupies so much time and space in my life.
I desire to share it with the people around me and I ache to have it lavished
upon me in my personal life.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to fall in love – truly, madly, passionately and deeply – get married, have a family and share my life with someone until death do us part.
My grandparents were married for 64 plus years after having met in 3rd grade and being high-school sweethearts. Theirs was the only example of marriage I had growing up. My mom has been a single parent the majority of my life; when I was three, my parents’ marriage ended and I only saw my dad about once a year (this is another entry entirely).
While I have always had and am grateful for the unconditional and unfailing love of my Heavenly Father, I have always craved the affection of men (and I don’t mean this in a sexual way). I have always wanted to have a husband who would love me unconditionally, who I could love unconditionally and together we would share a partnership throughout our lives.
So far, I haven’t made stellar choices in my life when it comes to relationships. It isn’t that I chose bad men; but I made my choices from places of fear instead of being secure in the faith that if I trusted God, he would put the right person in my life.
At those times in my life, my faith was not in the same place it has been over the last couple of years. I hope and pray that by letting go I am allowing God to make that choice for me – allowing God to put love into my life. It is my hope that God already has in mind the man for me to love and be loved by in return for eternity.
I’m human and part of my humanity makes me impatient, I think, when measured by God’s standards. My hope wanes and there are days when I feel like it dries up like an earthworm baked on the cement after a rain storm is over and the sun has come out to dry up the excess puddles. Sometimes I think I have messed up too much already and made too many mistakes for there to ever be any hope of love in my life now.
I compare myself, more often than I should, to the dented soup can in the bin at the discount grocery store – the one that doesn’t even have a label on it anymore so the shopper has no idea what the contents might be or if the thing is expired. What savvy grocery shopper is going to give that dented tin cylinder a second glance, much less pick it up, put it in his cart, hold up the line while the grocery clerk calls the manager for a price check, and then purchase it and take it home?
How much more patience must I have? Am I placing my hope in an idea that is completely impossible?
Each passing day turns into a week, a month and then a year. Looking into the mirror, I know I am getting older – I have gray hair and am developing tiny lines around my eyes and my mouth. Laugh lines is what I think they’re called, but why they developed isn’t nearly as important to someone as the fact that they are there to stay.
I pray on almost a daily basis that God will put ‘the one’ into my life, so each day I begin with the hope that maybe today is the day it will happen. Sometimes it is hard to be hopeful when nothing in a particular area appears to change.
It’s like trying to lose weight. I go to the gym and work out three to five times a week depending on my schedule. I monitor what I eat – looking for more opportunities to add fresh fruits and vegetables – try to drink more water and so on. When weighing myself recently, I saw a change. I have something measurable and tangible allowing me to see progress; this in turn affirms my hope and faith in hard work paying off.
With love it is a different experience. I don’t doubt God, but I don’t see progress either. I’ve not met anyone interesting nor has anyone remotely expressed any interest in me. There is no measurable progress with the exception that I continue to pray and have faith regardless. I am making a diligent effort to walk by faith instead of by sight.
But I am human and there are days when I feel like a dented soup can that no one is ever going to want to take home. Thankfully tomorrow is another day, and, God willing, I will wake up with my hope and faith renewed.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to fall in love – truly, madly, passionately and deeply – get married, have a family and share my life with someone until death do us part.
My grandparents were married for 64 plus years after having met in 3rd grade and being high-school sweethearts. Theirs was the only example of marriage I had growing up. My mom has been a single parent the majority of my life; when I was three, my parents’ marriage ended and I only saw my dad about once a year (this is another entry entirely).
While I have always had and am grateful for the unconditional and unfailing love of my Heavenly Father, I have always craved the affection of men (and I don’t mean this in a sexual way). I have always wanted to have a husband who would love me unconditionally, who I could love unconditionally and together we would share a partnership throughout our lives.
So far, I haven’t made stellar choices in my life when it comes to relationships. It isn’t that I chose bad men; but I made my choices from places of fear instead of being secure in the faith that if I trusted God, he would put the right person in my life.
At those times in my life, my faith was not in the same place it has been over the last couple of years. I hope and pray that by letting go I am allowing God to make that choice for me – allowing God to put love into my life. It is my hope that God already has in mind the man for me to love and be loved by in return for eternity.
I’m human and part of my humanity makes me impatient, I think, when measured by God’s standards. My hope wanes and there are days when I feel like it dries up like an earthworm baked on the cement after a rain storm is over and the sun has come out to dry up the excess puddles. Sometimes I think I have messed up too much already and made too many mistakes for there to ever be any hope of love in my life now.
I compare myself, more often than I should, to the dented soup can in the bin at the discount grocery store – the one that doesn’t even have a label on it anymore so the shopper has no idea what the contents might be or if the thing is expired. What savvy grocery shopper is going to give that dented tin cylinder a second glance, much less pick it up, put it in his cart, hold up the line while the grocery clerk calls the manager for a price check, and then purchase it and take it home?
How much more patience must I have? Am I placing my hope in an idea that is completely impossible?
Each passing day turns into a week, a month and then a year. Looking into the mirror, I know I am getting older – I have gray hair and am developing tiny lines around my eyes and my mouth. Laugh lines is what I think they’re called, but why they developed isn’t nearly as important to someone as the fact that they are there to stay.
I pray on almost a daily basis that God will put ‘the one’ into my life, so each day I begin with the hope that maybe today is the day it will happen. Sometimes it is hard to be hopeful when nothing in a particular area appears to change.
It’s like trying to lose weight. I go to the gym and work out three to five times a week depending on my schedule. I monitor what I eat – looking for more opportunities to add fresh fruits and vegetables – try to drink more water and so on. When weighing myself recently, I saw a change. I have something measurable and tangible allowing me to see progress; this in turn affirms my hope and faith in hard work paying off.
With love it is a different experience. I don’t doubt God, but I don’t see progress either. I’ve not met anyone interesting nor has anyone remotely expressed any interest in me. There is no measurable progress with the exception that I continue to pray and have faith regardless. I am making a diligent effort to walk by faith instead of by sight.
But I am human and there are days when I feel like a dented soup can that no one is ever going to want to take home. Thankfully tomorrow is another day, and, God willing, I will wake up with my hope and faith renewed.
No comments:
Post a Comment