June 05, 2007
All for Love
"You never write about me," he said. I explained that it is because he's so special - not the opposite - that I don't write about our relationship. I've been chronicling my life online for almost 7 years, and there are just some things that I choose to keep my own.
A downside of so many years online is that eventually you're going to actually read some of the things people say behind your back from time to time. Several months ago I read a comment from someone that said, basically, that my faith serves as a husband surrogate; in the same way some people get pets when they can't have kids, I delved into a relationship with God because I couldn't find a husband. Beth Moore once said that as she was praying about some untruths she'd read about herself, she heard God say, "But they were humbling, weren't they?" And she learned to be grateful for persecution. Believe me, that is not an easy place to come to, but I did settle there eventually. And one of the things that helped me get there was the fact that I should be thankful for those kind of comments, because they serve as reminders of how far I've come.
When you receive a comment like that you are able to drop it into your life and figure out which parts are true. And I realized that God did become my husband - in the most magnificent ways. He loved me unconditionally when I felt unlovable. He gave me a life. He provided for me, protected me and partnered with me. And because of that relationship, I am actually semi-prepared to be somebody's wife. A. knows that he will always be number two in my life, and the beautiful part is that he wouldn't want it any other way. "I know I will never be able to love you the way God loves you," he said. "But I can try, right?"
There were years - years! - when all I really wanted was to fall in love and plan a wedding and get married. It was unfathomable to me why it hadn't happened yet and I was internally consumed with the longing to be loved. And more than that, I just wanted it to be My Turn. But then I surrendered and He set me free, and I discovered a life that was challenging, yes, but a life that was overflowing with joy. Finally, my singleness became a gift, and He allowed me to be more productive in that singleness than I ever dreamed possible. So much, in fact, that I have had to grieve the passing of those days. I was recently asked to return to Romania, and my first reaction was that I would need to discuss it with A. And if I 'm being perfectly honest, I resented that a little.
My life has turned upside down, and though I feel so lucky I am often moved to tears at the thought of it all, it's been an adjustment. We'd only been dating about 6 weeks when he told me that he was moving away, but that he'd worked out a way to visit often and that he hoped I'd want to continue dating. We sat at the table, each of us picking at our dinner of tacos and quesadillas, our minds spinning with everything that was at stake, and he said, "But you know, we don't have to decide all of this over guacamole." I excused myself and went into the bathroom where I took deep breaths and fought back the tears that threatened to overtake me, mostly because I realized that I was on the verge of sobbing, not because my new boyfriend was moving away, but because I knew - instinctively - that I would be following him. And instead of thoughts of losing this new relationship, I was overwhelmed with the knowledge that Teri and I would again live in separate cities and that I wasn't going to get to see Adam grow up.
On our second date, we went back to his loft after dinner to watch American Idol. I knew that I would like him when he surreptitiously switched Tivo from live TV to the old recorded episode where Carrie Underwood sang Heart's "Alone." I knew that it would be something more when I noticed all the family photos scattered around his place, as well as an old black and white photo of him at age 19, sitting on the window ledge that opened to a view of Turner Field and the Capitol. Lanky and tan, he's smiling like he has a secret. A while ago, I mentioned how much I liked that photo, and when I returned from Florida in April, there was a box sitting on my desk, framed photo contained within. He also included one of his senior photos from 1989 and wrote on the back, "So yes, this is my cheesy senior photo, but you're in 7th grade, what do you know? See you in 18 years."
And I think about who we were all those years ago and how neither of us probably ever dreamed that we would be single in 2007, let alone living 1,000 miles away from our respective hometowns and that we would stumble upon one another on a random Saturday in a random park, when we weren't even looking. If we had met sooner - after all, we'd been working less than two blocks from one another for two years - we would have passed right by, unrecognizable to the other. Every time I think about it, I'm amazed. God's timing is perfect and even though we will never be able to understand his infinite plan, when we are able to catch glimpses of our own stories, we are often pushed to our knees in gratitude.
Because I love Him, I am able to love him. It's a beautiful thing.
Posted by hannah at 10:43 PM
