I Wrote This For You

Today I am sitting back, puzzled, asking God, how did this happen? How did you know? And most importantly, when did you know? When did you know I was ready?

It feels like yesterday I was hunched over in my parents bed in utter heartbreak, asking if I’d ever meet another guy who could love me, questioning if something was wrong with me.

I remember every tear that soaked through that off-white pillow case. The dreams disguised as nightmares, leading me back to a place where my relationship wasn’t over, where the guy I thought I was going to marry fought for me, and it all worked out. I remember the awful feeling of waking up only to repeat the same pain of yesterday, realizing again that this was my reality. I remember the agony of routine – coaching myself through the process of doing my hair and makeup. I remember every trigger and the way it pinched my heart. And the emptiness of people’s words who loved me and did their best to bring me out of despair and feeling like I had reached my end and nothing would ever get better.

For over a year this is how my life felt. As I moved to Washington, I thought the pain would disappear, but it stayed constant. Some days it would drift, but miraculously it would always find its way back. I had to face my heartache head on, alone, with God, away from the comfort of home and people who really knew me. I had to choose boldness and stare straight into the eyes of my pain and tackle every facet of what it was.

Merely two years ago and I sit here writing to you because through all that I now have a new boyfriend. It’s serious. We talk about marriage. We talk about the future. His heart is for ministry and beats for people. He makes me laugh-big ole’ belly laughs. He spurs me on, keeps me accountable to my goals, and challenges me in my walk with the Lord. He’s what I thought I would never find, never deserve, and never have. He’s the man I’ve been praying for.

I know for some of you, this is the part where you want to roll your eyes or stop reading. To sarcastically say, I’m so happy for you, April. I know for some of you, reading these words only makes your heart yearn and ache, because they aren’t your words. It’s not your story. Maybe you’ve faced heartache and you haven’t seen God answer that prayer with the man you desire. Maybe you find yourself doing all that is required – faithfulness in your journey with God; yet, it still hasn’t happened for you.

I know this is painful. I was there for two years – mad at God. I felt like my entire life was choosing Him and I was angry because I felt like somehow He had forgotten about me as He was busy blessing and granting everyone else’s desires.

HELLO GOD I AM RIGHT HERE!

Bitterness raged in my heart and comparison nagged at me. How come God? How come they are getting engaged, getting married, having a baby, starting a relationship?? What about me??

Hear me on this – this is FOR YOU. I need you to read this. As much as you want to push away, please press in.

There came a point in my loneliness and despair that I had to make a choice to choose God, to trust that he was good and had better plans for me than I had for myself. Even though I felt taunted by the empty canvas of my life that laid in front of me, even though I couldn’t see how any possible good could arise out of this pain, and even though it felt like I was completely forgotten, I had to lean in and trust Him. I had to choose that better was yet to come and this chapter of hurt was making me stronger, and now I am asking you to do the same.

I don’t know when the pain went away. It wasn’t in a moment or out of nowhere. It was a process of choosing to step and with every step I took, the pain didn’t have the momentum to keep up with me anymore. It lost its breath and this is what God spoke to me very clearly 1 year ago, about 10 months of living in Washington. He gave me Hosea 2: 14-16 and Isaiah 43:18-19. It read as this:

“Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards, and will make the Valley of Achor a door of hope. There she will respond as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt. “On that day,” declares the Lord, “you will call me ‘my husband’; you will no longer call me ‘my master.’

Hosea 2: 14-16

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.

Isaiah 43:18-19

God separated me from everything I knew by bringing me to Washington, my wilderness. Community wasn’t built for me yet and there weren’t a lot of people my age. I didn’t have the safety or comfort like I did in Texas. Yet, it was His plan all along. It was only in this place of isolation that He could clearly speak to me. He had to remove every distraction to remind me of the desires He placed in my heart as a little girl – journals filled with heart-wrenched prayers of what I desperately wanted for my life.

Here in my wilderness, He spoke tenderly to me, reminding me of the plans He has for my life. In my pit of despair, God became my everything – the only thing I needed. He wasn’t simply the God I followed, He was the God I loved – the God I would lay down my life for. During my first year of living in Washington, my relationship with God drastically changed, the desires of my heart were reignited with His will, because somewhere I had settled in the things of God and the plans He had for me. In this  wilderness season, I discovered the healing had for me and the restoration He had for my life. I found a newness in my spirit and hope that bubbled up inside of me.

You see, with God, he turned my brokenness into beauty. My heart was made vulnerable and He allowed me to experience the love He had for the brokenhearted. My pain was my platform for God’s purpose to supersede my faulty, unsteady plans and create a place and space for people to come and be broken – but most importantly find God. And this is the same He wants to do in and through you.

With tears spilling from my eyes, hitting the keyboard as I type, I say, don’t give up on God. He really is who He says He is and will really do all that He says He will do and more. It’s not because I have a boyfriend that I write this to you. My relationship is a byproduct of what God did in my life, and how he restored it.

Opening your hands to God is so hard, allowing Him permission to take is even harder. Yet, if I would have never opened my hands, I would have never discovered the beautiful gift of life that I get to touch and deeply feel every day.

Let your pain bring you to your knees, friends. Don’t neglect this season. Cherish it.