Leshem Shamayim: “For the sake of heaven.”

If Adam is to be the ultimate example of God’s plan for mankind, for every individual to enter into a marital covenant with another person, then what of those individual who find himself or herself never bound to another person by such a covenant? If marriage was truly God’s convention for every person’s spiritual formation, then perhaps the state of singleness could be considered a disease. Perhaps we may view Adam as the typical case of normal humanity, with certain urges and desires that find no lawful fulfillment except in marriage, but not ever individual fits into the typical make-up of persons of who find marriage beneficial to their relationship with God. For the purposes of this paper, I will discuss singleness, its causes, its place in God’s order of creation, and what God defines as the state of singleness within the Church, though I will contract godly singlehood with worldly singlehood to show the true potential for amazing service to God single individuals have.

Singleness, though the term conjures up pictures of romantic relationship status, begins as a normal phase of life for every person on the planet. Based on typical understanding of singlehood, I am choosing to define the term as simply being unmarried, allowing for the differences in moral definition between godly singlehood and singleness as advocated by pop culture. It is obvious enough to state that individuals are not born married, so at some point, singleness is a natural state for all people. When does singlehood become deemed as a socially awkward state in which to remain? I find that sadly young people in their early teens, even those who are a part of the body of Christ remaining single in the strict sense that they do are not married, are put under pressure to “be in a relationship.”  In the pubescent years of development, it is natural for young men and women to find the physical and chemical make-up of their bodies to change emotions and bring about awareness of sexuality. While not all individuals experience these natural hormonal or even physical changes, one of the explanations for remaining single, most are drawn to thoughts of marriage to allow sexual intimacy with another person.

At this very intense period of development, young men and women are faced with a choice of how to live before God in their singleness: this is the question about dating and relationships, to which I see three options. In the first option of pubescent single living (between the ages of 12 or 13 to 19 or 20), individuals can remain disengaged from pursuing relationships with members of the opposite sex, trusting the Holy Spirit to keep their hearts and seeking to invest and develop themselves for kingdom service. The second option is for single individuals to engage in behavior normal to the pubescent phase of life, exploring release for hormonal development by engaging in experimental “romantic” relationships while obtaining from sexual activity (I believe this is behavioral choice permits following the leading of God, though it is not nearly as focused as option one). The final option presented to Christian young people in their young adult years is that which appeals most to the changes they are experiencing in their bodies and minds: engage in sexual exploration with members of the opposite gender outside of marriage (this sort of disobedience to the will of God inhibits exploration of how one could best make use of God’s life gifting in His service).

Seeing the natural desires of people developing to the full capacity of God’s creation, it appears very easy for single Christian in the pubescent phase of life to compromise their focus of the other crucial areas of development needing to take place within those years between the beginnings of puberty and the end of hormonal development. Personally, I would encourage young men and women to spend these years of learning about their own sexuality and each others’, to not focus on members of the opposite sex, but to fall in love with Jesus. In the developmental stage of singlehood, I believe there is far too much growing and exploration of the components of self and the gifts God has given to tie oneself to another in an intimate way before one truly understands how one would best be suited to contributing to the Kingdom of Heaven. Sadly, the intensity of sexual change and development often derails focus on the things of God to premature relationships before the boy and girl involved have been able to understand who they are in Christ. Thus, I believe the most honoring form of singlehood in the development phase of singleness.

Since sexual desires are common among most men and women and lawfully blessed by God (see the Song of Songs) and He Himself uses the analogy of the marriage covenant to illustrate His love for His people, marriage seems to be the natural transition from developmental singlehood into more mature adulthood. One of the most poignant discussions of marriage and singleness in maturing adulthood is found in 1 Corinthians 7, where the Apostle Paul discusses sexual chastity and purity of heart with the adult men and women of the church in Corinth. Within the first six verses of the chapter, Paul urges both married and unmarried members of the Corinthian church to remain sexually pure, saying that only the married should engage in physical intimacy, which those who found themselves in the state of singlehood should guard their minds and emotions so as to remain pure before God. Paul does not acknowledge that lack of sexual desire necessarily accompanies singlehood, but this passage seems to suggest that some single individuals did indeed experience sexual desires, yet their circumstances had not been conducive. Thus, we find the Apostle Paul referring to both the states of singlehood and marriage as gifts from God in 1 Corinthians 7:11.

In fact, Paul gives evidence in verses 7 and 8 that his personal preference would be that all the Corinthians remain single, as he himself was, keeping any sexual desires they may feel for the opposite sex in check. Paul encouraged the unmarried, the divorced, and the widows/ widowers that their singlehood was not a curse from God, but rather a gift from God. In fact, Paul speaks almost derogatorily about marriage, saying “if they cannot exercise self-control, let them marry, since it is better to be married rather than to be burnt up.” (1 Cor. 11:9) Thus, if one finds himself or herself in a position of having desires to be sexually intimate with another person but able to control those desires, singlehood should be viewed as a gift from God. I believe that just as God ordained marriage as a sacred allowance in human relationships, He set aside singlehood for some individuals with specific purpose to be set apart for intimacy with Him alone.

I think the greatest problem with Christian men and women who find themselves in the state of singlehood, able to control their sexual desires but longing for an intimate relationship with another person is discontentment. So in summary of the potential causes of singlehood discussed in this essay, individuals can find themselves in the state of singlehood because of a lack of desire for sexual intimacy due to abnormality in chemical/physiological composition, due to situations which seem to prohibit marriage (i.e., and unstable job, unattractive personality, etc.), or divorce/ death of spouse. All of these situations can foster a feeling of inferiority to those who are married, leading single individuals to consider themselves second class citizens and possible even second class in God’s eyes. Thus, I will elaborate on a possible counseling situation through a hypothetical scenario with a single young woman:

She has been a member of my church for about 18 months now, recommended by one of my close friends, so Anna attached herself to me upon first arrival. Having grown in our relationship, I have been able to participate in life more intimately with her than many of the other members of the college and careers group at my church. Anna and I connected immediately, both finding ourselves in similar circumstances: unmarried, not in relationships, and heading towards higher academic goals than most of the other young women in the group. We both enjoy our independence, finding flexibility to enjoy sports, late nights in the library, and early morning coffee with friends at Denny’s. Yet there is a distinct difference in the way Anna and I live our single lives before God: I am one hundred percent sold out to Jesus, not looking for any sort of relationship, setting my checkered past behind me and pursuing a pure life of service devoted to my God. Anna, on the other hand, is not so content with being without a man in her life.

Finding I had a Bachelor’s degree in Christian Counseling, Anna seemed more eager to share the details of her life story with me: as the only girl amongst three boys, Anna had always been the apple of her father’s eye, primed to seek out male attention by use of her attractive figure and appealing personality. While in High school, Anna had been the most popular girl in school, flirting with most handsome young men and always having a boy at her side, for emotional support she said. Leaving a string of broken hearts behind her even through college, I recognized within Anna the same deep longing for intimate understanding, to know and to be known in the deepest way, that I too had struggled with in my pubescent and young adult years. However, I had never resulted to the same sorts of extremes for intimacy that Anna had in order to felt wanted and needed.

Attending a Christian college in the heart of New York City, Anna found that even the “nicest Christian boys” were willing to engage in relationship with her in exchange for sexual favors. Sadly, carrying over high school habits into college years, Anna sought to use sex in hoping on landing a commitment with a serious boyfriend in her sophomore year at college. However, by the beginning of her senior year, Anna felt used and manipulated by her boyfriend who seemed unwilling to commit to marriage, but continued to want sexual intimacy. Feeling dissatisfied, Anna broke off the relationship just before graduation, becoming hard and cynical towards men and the idea of sexual intimacy being God-ordained in a future marriage relationship. I confirmed Anna’s feelings that sexual intimacy before marriage did indeed leave God out of the picture, explaining her feelings of emptiness; because she had substituted sexual intimacy for real relationship with God.

Yet now, Anna was feeling alone, in her second year of graduate school, and trying to explore why she felt so abandoned by God because she was not in a relationship and had not marital prospects. I recognized antisocial behaviors within Anna’s interactions with other men; coldness and hostility characterized her conversations with other men, or the opposite extreme of seductive flirtatiousness. Looking deeper into the heart behind these behaviors, I noticed that Anna struggled with self-esteem, even stretching back to her childhood where she felt she had to dress a certain way and behave flirtatiously in order to gain attention. Her behaviors now reflected both the hurt of feeling she needed to earn love and the damage from her overly intimate relationship in college. Anna was no longer certain of her own worth and value as a single woman before God.

I having struggled with singleness shared from my own experience how the encouraging words of close friends challenged me to look at myself and honestly evaluate myself as Jesus sees me: I helped Anna learn to be comfortable in her own skin without feeling the need to flirt with young men by introducing her to some of my other young lady friends, taking her on shopping trips with some other girls, and learning how to laugh at ourselves. Establishing her own value as a single woman in Jesus, I challenged Anna to take a step further with her sexual desires and submit them to Christ, thinking of herself as the bride of Christ in a spiritual sense. I suggested that considering herself consecrated to Him and devoted to His service would allow her the focus of singleness, not feeling the need for intimacy with anyone other than Jesus. I shared with her that in my own experience with Jesus, I found it necessary for me to rely wholly on Jesus before looking for another person with whom to share my life.

While singleness may not be the most desirable state to all people, Anna continued to successfully struggle with submitting her loneliness and sexual desires for intimacy to her lord and savior Jesus Christ. Yet recognizing that the state of singlehood is a gift from Jesus for at least a particular time of life, adults who find themselves single can choose to view that sort of relationship with God, different from the marital relationship with God, can utilize the freedoms afforded single adults to fullest capacity for the service of the Lord. As Paul stated in 1 Corinthians, both marriage and singlehood are gifts that are equal in value in the Lord’s eyes. While marriage may be more typical among Christian men and women to fulfill the lawful desires of human beings, I believe that singlehood is a special gift given to a select few. The biblical examples of singlehood were always people God handpicked for that state for a special mission, including Jesus Christ. If the Son of God was single, then singlehood cannot be a disease but a God-ordained state that can be maximized in its availability and flexibility for service capacity.

The sunshine seduced me into a run this afternoon… I never need too much encouragement on Sunday afternoons…. Having felt some sort of touch this morning in my spirit, I was more than eager and the sparkling rays of light beckoned me like wanton faeries to vagrant questers even while I was still at church. The sun’s glow was almost too bright, just on the verge of too forceful…and somehow it reminded me of God’s radiance in that sense of overwhelming control… God lets me catch glimpses of His beauty… but never the full face, because it would ruin me right now. But maybe I want to be ruined… maybe I really and truly do so desire to know Him that if seeing Him is to know Him, I would rather die and see Him than be alive and blind.

While the idea of seeing Jesus, feeling Jesus was running around my mind, I was thinking in church about a passage of scripture we read: John 20:19-31 where the resurrected Jesus appears to His Apostles and offered His wounded hands and side to them as peace to their hearts, proof that He was not a ghost. So wishing them peace, Jesus touched them, and then He breathed on them. While running with the sunlight this afternoon, thoughts about Jesus’ breath on those men and the synonymity of Hebrew’s words “spirit” and “wind or breath”. I began my run head into the wind… and I imagined what it would be like for Jesus to breath on me… it must have been more than that stirring of air caused by a normal human breath… maybe He was blowing and imparting some part of the newness in His spirit to those men. Well, the end of verse 22 and verse 23 indicate to me that this breath was in fact the Holy Spirit and that it imparted some sort of power to those men. That same Holy Spirit which lives within me, compels me, moves me, stirs me up.

As the wind hit my face, it was gentle but insistent… and I felt my cheeks beginning to glow… somewhere in my mind my thoughts rushed to thinking of this wind as some sort of divine kiss from Jesus full in the face. It was too gorgeous a day to be anything other than a kiss, I determined, though I remembered other days when I thought the wind was God resisting me, pushing me back. Whatever is going on in nature, I tend to interpret by my spirit, how I feel with Jesus. The day the wind was my enemy and fighting me, I was wrestling with God, and every breath from His mouth struck me, shaking every fiber of my soul. Today, God was not testing my resistance, but giving me a joyful challenge, because my Jesus knows I enjoy having to seek something out, attempt to conquer something… so today the wind was both a kiss of encouragement and a challenge to push farther for more. What more could there be, sunlight glancing off everything, wind moving the light?

Of course there is more… there is the move from feeling to seeing. Returning to the John 20 passage, the Apostles were able to see Jesus with their eyes, but touching and feeling Him, feeling His words in their spirits, receiving into themselves the Holy Spirit by His breath, confirmed to them that this was their once crucified Lord Jesus before their eyes. Unfortunately, Thomas was not amongst the other Apostles, and mere testimony did not convince him… he wanted to feel Jesus for himself. I like this guy Thomas… he reminds me of myself, and his name means “twin” too! I wonder if he really was a twin. I have a joke with my twin sister and other friends who have twins… that we are divided personality wise like Jekyll and Hyde… and I guess from the friends I have, we second twins are frequently the “evil” or “wild” ones: Thomas would have had to have been the wild twin, if really a twin, to follow a crazy Jewish rabbi like Jesus who called Himself the son of God. And I would probably demand proof too: if the person you had just placed all this hope in to usher in a kingdom of God had just died, wouldn’t you find yourself a little skeptical about His resurrection too?

I think I have challenged Jesus to prove Himself to me just a bit differently than Thomas who said, “Unless I can see the holes that the nails made in his hands, and unless I can put my finger into the hole they made, and unless I can put my hand into his side, I refuse to believe.” (Jn. 20.25) They were different from me, though, Thomas and the others… they had known Jesus from the very first by face-to-face communication. Jesus did not condemn Thomas’ desire… but allowed him to feel the wounds and see the scars. I have never seen Jesus with my eyes, but my heart is convinced of Him because I think I have felt His words. If I never felt His words become sensible in my spirit again, I would still know the words and believe them. He captured my heart at one touch of those nail-wounded hands. Now He has breathed Himself by His spirit into me… and I wonder, am I to offer my hands out to others, to be His nail-scarred hands, to convince them of His love?

Seeing… that is a little bit different. I am perfectly OK with not seeing Jesus with my eyes for now, though I would really like to. I want to at least see Him with my heart, and I think that has to be possible now, if the Kingdom of Heaven is in reach, at hand. I look around at the country I live in, at the community I live in, and I see a huge absence of Jesus because I don’t think we know what it means to be Jesus. But I think we could be, if we would just let ourselves imagine the feeling necessary for His words to become real in our lives. How do we capture each moment for Jesus, keeping our thoughts and hearts focused on Him and His desires? I almost think we have decided we don’t want Jesus in every instance of our lives, because we have decided we can’t see Him.

Even thinking about relationships with other people, face-to-face is far more personal than mere audial or written communication. Some dimension of the relationship changes when two people conduct their relationship together in a shared presence…and I think we can do something like that with Jesus, I really do. Of course we can’t see Him with our eyes, I don’t think He ever expected us to try to. But what about with our hearts? Yes, I can see Jesus in my heart… because I am willing to risk my imagination and picture His in even a way that my eyes can envision if that will capture the moments of my life for Him.

Are we willing to imagine that we can see Him now? If so, I think Jesus is just waiting to step into our lives and place His wounded hands into ours, giving us the terrifying responsibility of extending those hands to others… but I think it is so worth it for the amazing closeness with Him. Jesus, I think my heart can see You, even now… at times You fade into a mere sense in my spirit, but I know I could see You if I tried. Even in all the songs we sang in church this morning, I felt a lingering, a hesitancy to look for the sight of You. Why? Why would we delay? Maybe I cannot touch the hands of Your body, but in my heart, can I feel You, can I see You in my heart? I have to be able to, I have to know You now… is to see You really to know You, Jesus?

Last night I really had this incredible urge to go out and dance with Jesus. Trying to focus on some work, I found myself absolutely useless because my heart kept leaping within me. Coming back from break, I had quite the time trying to reapply my brain cells to some serious work. There have been exams and projects filling my time, but there is an over-arching sense a feeling which flits in and out, like a ray of sunlight on a temperamental day… except this little ray of sunlight has been especially temperamental. Three weeks ago, my life was somewhat pulled out of my hands by what my Jesus was saying to me… things I realized that I had forgotten about Himself through my life situations. Looking all around me each day, I am flooded with excitement that a year ago I could never have drempt of being possible in this life… I thought that pure bliss was only reserved for Heaven. And maybe it is, but I am pretty confident that Heaven can be caught here now… and continually chased down when it flits out of our grasp.

At the beginning of Global Ministries week so many weeks ago, I began to lose track of time, it now runs out of my hands like sand… particles (time particles were a fun topic in philosophy) slipping rapidly, fluidly… my life feels like a great hour glass, pouring away the contents of my life with each moment. To connect the idea of chasing Heaven to that of chasing time, I find myself wholly unable to fully catch a hold of either. But I do want to savor each moment as it passes me by, hold onto Heaven for as long as possible… for eternity right now if I could, but the tree of life is no longer accessible to man in this life… I cannot last forever in my body of dust. And yet, while time may never slow down for me, I am determined to try and capture Heaven each moment at a time as I find myself caught up in the endless dance of life.

While time may not necessarily require the presence of and interaction with others to be gotten hold of and savored, Heaven cannot be had without the beauty of fellowship (I am convinced of this); and I think I have begun to see Heaven realized in my life. What a contrast to last spring, when time could not pass fast enough, when heaven seemed so far away I would never realize it. If Heaven is wherever Jesus is in community (He said where two or three are gathered that He would show up)… then my time with the Spirit of Jesus must be different… freer in imagination, but probably far less substantial. Imagine what it would be like if communal relationship with Jesus could be as imaginative as my personal intimacy with Jesus. Communal intimacy with Jesus? Now this sounds like a concept I have rather evaded much of my life… even now I still feel myself pulling back and distancing myself from those who are seeking to enter the gates of Heaven, the presence of Jesus in more than just His Spirit by imagining Him together and allowing honesty of how He has been at work to spill forth… it starts in our very words.

I began realizing really two weeks ago on break that I was pushing Heaven away because I was not allowing the closeness with close people whom I should be eager to share those personal words with. What was keeping me from imagining wildly with them in that relationship which would allow Jesus so much freedom to work in the both of us? I have begun considering the relationships most apt to enter Heaven most frequently are those in which I and the individual I am engaging feel free to imagine in front of one another, to create and form words in front of one another. I have this interesting and rather bipolar unsurety that I am talking with Jesus about right now… one in which I am either too intimidated to verbalize words or too bold in my verbalization. I think I have been calling it a lack of sense from confusion to Jesus. But He understands my heart, what I am trying to say to Him, and gives the gift of creative language as long as I allow the raw honesty of reality to soak up my fears… or maybe the paralysis of imagination comes from confusion.

Last year, I found myself beginning to see that the small, removed voice which was incomprehensible to my logic, defied by my sense of right, and overwhelmed by a myriad of other voices within my own heart, that this still little voice was really the one of Jesus calling me after Him, outstretched arms ready to embrace me and walk me alone the path He had before me. Somewhere out of the dark of my childhood, where I only knew a presence and didn’t hear a voice, a myriad of voices broke through and encouraged me in a thousand different directions. All of them seemed equally as strong, equally as right and good… and I tried to follow each one of them in turn, until I found that these were others’ dreams and imaginations, not my own. This caused me so much confusion, and I realized that Heaven was not confused. It may be uncertain to me, but it is not confused. But then, last spring, I was just beginning to taste real community… and it terrified me, to be honest.

Even yesterday, I found myself tasting of more real fellowship, and I found myself backing away from it. But Jesus caught me in my steps as inside I had back against a wall… bumping into Jesus: Hannah, there’s nothing to be afraid of. My fears are no longer confusion, they are not irrational or just that I don’t want my trembling language to be shown, because my imagination still exceeds my language. But with community, Jesus is giving me more words for the imagination. Because I guess I can’t be Jesus to myself, and I need Him and the Spirit… so I need others to be Jesus to me, and I need to be Jesus to them. Communal intimacy? It is no different than me having an honest conversation and seeing the words become real with one or more persons. Jesus elated my soul yesterday evening, because I realized how much the heaven I imagined was becoming more and more real through the honest words. Words into life, those have an elegant mystery hanging about them… I am all lost in wonder at the power of God’s speech… as I speak His words myself, with others… they embed themselves in me… more Jesus. And so He and I danced yesterday evening… it was a combination of words and motions… I lost myself, I don’t even know what happened, but I was breathless afterwards… from speaking and moving. It was a beautiful, heavenly moment.

I, Hannah, have been engaging life and forgetful of You, my Jesus. Thus I do not truly engage, because You are all that life really is. I have been thinking quite a bit lately about my Jesus and how I can allow Him to be fully present within my life and how I can grow closer to His heart. I have a desperate urge that I am always struggling with to try and feel my Jesus, even to try and picture Him in every part of my life. I am so terribly distractible, though, and every person I come in contact with, converse with, even see at times takes up the place in my mind that I want You to occupy, Jesus, the focus of my attention. Jesus, I need Your help to learn how to love people through You. Right now, as I am sitting in the café, I see You in the eye of my heart, and I am confidant that You have control of my life directions, my thoughts as I submit them each to You, my words before they escape my lips… but right now I am being quiet. Soon, I shall embark on another phase of life, a different one, in which my focus will be continually crossed by others, those with whom I am conversing: it is so much simpler to be before You, to be whole, all alone.

Yet Jesus, You have called me to live with people, live amongst, and love as You love. I think then, this means You have called me to operate as You operate, guided by the same heart principles and thoughts. Jesus, I wish I could know when You flood my mind with Your thoughts, all the time. I suppose I learn Your thoughts and am intentionally conscious of them when I have Your word before me. Jesus, I ask You to invoke Your Spirit in me as I seek out Your will in Your word and open up my heart to it. Please plant Your word within my heart and let it grow, take root, and blossom out of the heart and mind into my life. I am so often forgetful, Jesus, I see You for one moment, and in the next You completely leave me mind. Sweetly broken, wholly surrendered? Hardly, Jesus… not all the time.

So, may we talk please about You, about Heaven now? I am wholly convinced that I am in Your kingdom right now, as much as I can be, with the participation and involvement of others. You have given me this gorgeous gift… something which allows me to see You right now, with the sight of my heart transfigured into the sight of my eyes: I imagine You, Jesus, leaning over me, and Your hand is resting on top of mine… I can almost feel the blood from Your cruel wounds in those strong hands, so tender when touching mine. I feel as though the wounds are becoming my own as I allow Your embrace. Jesus, You’re beautiful, I don’t even have to see Your face to know that… those wounds define Your beauty. There’s Your foot right next to mine… where You stand, I can feel the touch of Your foot near mine.

Jesus, may we go and dance? My heart is beaming with the radiance of a new bride, eternally enchanted by the embrace of her lover. My hands are aching, I think I have put mine into Yours. Let me sink into You… that electrifying touch which thrills the core of my soul. It can almost be a cruel longing to want You Jesus, because in wanting You more, I want to love people. So now I have been learning how we should dance, this intimate choreography of a lovers’ waltz, every move in synch, each word we whisper between us becoming a movement in the dance… word embodying itself in flesh, the motions of that flesh, moving us, indwelling us. And we dance, we step into that wordless silence where my heart is just in awe of You. How I love You, my Jesus.
And so You have taken Your hands from mine as I type on this keyboard… and there You are, stretching them out in front of me. Maybe its time to leave this place for now. But… oh… I hold my open hands up to You, and You placed Yours in them… I can feel it. Heavenly touch… all within me stills and I am told a blush wells up at the thought of Your love. I am wholly enamored and irresistibly compelled… now I will go off and run, for the dance must completed for this evening’s stretch… my whole being aches to dance with Jesus. Conversation changes the soul, this dance will reinvent my imagination of Him. Here we go, Jesus.

“A great lonesome hunger comes over me at this moment for someone who has passed through all the same long, long channels of hope, and aspiration, and despair, and failure, to whom I can talk tonight. And yet– there is no such person. As we grow older all our paths diverge, and in all the world I suppose I could find nobody who could wholly understand me except God– and neither can you! Ah, God, what a new nearness this brings for Thee and me, to realize that Thou alone canst understand me, for Thou alone knowest all! Thou are no longer a stranger, God! Thou art the only being in the universe who is not partly a stranger. I invite others, but they cannot come all the way. Thou art all the way inside with me–here-and every time I forget  and push thee out, Thou art eager to return.” (from ” Letters by a Modern Mystic”)

Jesus, I think after this morning run, my heart just want to sing You a love song, maybe a bit like Psalm 92. Thank You for filling my heart so full… even as I awoke and arose, it was as if I were caught in a dream and it was too beautiful to wake from; I glided effortlessly, elegantly in sync with movements I thought too impossible for the morning. You filled my heart with song, and my mouth overflowed its essence in praise of You. So here is how I see David’s heart for Yhwh in my love for You, Jesus:

My Jesus is the Most deserving of all glory and praise
My heart rejoices in proclaiming His name through holily inspired words,
Words stirred in my heart to speech even before the sun has awoken,
For You bless me even in my sleep; in my dreams I would continue to bless You,
Any music within my spirit always rejoices at a mere thought of Your presence,
My heart murmurs joyfully in lingering thought over Your name.

You gladden my heart continually through Your surprising acts of loving-kindness, Jesus,
My mouth cannot keep silent in the stillness of Your morning:
How enchanting is the care You have woven in these hours before dawn,
How incomprehensible the source of Your love!
Your beauty is far too much for me, Jesus, too wondrous,
Your being in my daily motions too elusive.

Those who claim Your name but do not know You intimately
Have evaded the treasure, which implants meaning into empty lives,
For Your love assigns to me a name and a purpose, belonging only to You.
With You I can be wholly myself, for You made me to be wholly Your own,
To be in love with You, to live in Your presence and to enjoy You entirely.

You have routed the shadowy enemies of my mind with stood between You and me,
Refashioning my heart to be just as You made it, only fully Yours.
Jesus, You are the strength in my bones, the fire and spark of life in my blood,
Everyday I feel recreated in the newness of Your tranquil creation.
Make me, O Jesus, a tree planted in Your orchard of faithful followers,
Rooted firmly in You, so as not to be removed from Your love
by winds which sway my bows and storms which strike the core of my soul.

Let my life always bear the fruit the comes from the fear of the Lord,
Unite the words of my soul with the deeds of my flesh to be wholly pleasing to You;
May I become a convincing testimony of Your faithfulness until the day I die.
For You are the only Perfect one, You love is spotless—
You have become real within me, Jesus; let me become real in You.

As I was running, Jesus and I talked about several things which filled my mind from yesterday… it was like going to a ball with the most romantic dance partner who is so in tuned to You that he can match and mirror your every movement and guide you in the dance steps when you do not know them. Imagine something out of a fairy tale for a moment… riding in a horse-drawn carriage; it is already dark outside, and you can hear owls as you travel down an unknown way to an event you know nothing about except that it will last the entire night, and you needed to come just the way you were. A thousand questions fill your mind, and you glance into the eyes of the one sitting across from you; He knows what will be going on, but is mysteriously silent the entire ride there: you have no idea what you have gotten yourself into.

The carriage curtains are dark; you cannot see what is outside when the carriage finally stops. He smiles broadly, opening the door and helping you out. Amazement. Excitement and wonder fill you as you see before you a palace, faery-tale like… the high pinnacles and turrets, long narrow windows, seamless stone walls… flooded with lights, music, and colorful figures mingling throughout the whole castle: it’s a ball.

You look down at yourself, joy turning to despair, anticipation into shame as you realize that you are clothes in rags and your feet are filthy and bare. You are rather young and wild, the outdoors has never been big enough a territory to explore, and you never gave a care about the rigidity expected of you as you grew up: You were carefree, childlike in your wonder at life, but sincere in your contemplation. Yet now, you feel wholly unworthy to be with this elegant young man, bidding you enter his castle and join in his dance. So you fearfully protest, you are not ready, but he will hear none of it; You cannot help yourself, he is irresistible, so you take his hand.

With each step forward, your heart sinks heavier and heavier into your feet. At the very gate of the castle, you hesitate—he urges you onward. A masquerade? You have no mask. He smiles, and he smiles only that certain way at you; the masked figures received sadder smiles, regretful, almost. You ask for a mask to hide your lack of preparedness; maybe they will think it’s a costume. He looks at you, surprised and serious, you do not want a mask, he will give you something better. He leads you to the middle of the dance floor in front of all the masqueraders; you cheeks burn with shame, and engages you in the dance surrounding you.

You are so confused, life swirls at a dizzying pace… but his steps remain steady and your clumsy motions begin to sync with his. You glance down and notice that not only your movements, but your appearance has changed too: you are clean, dressed like a princess. You stumble and step on his foot. When you look up he warns you to keep your eyes fixed on him or you too will wear a mask. You think the masks are beautiful, but you try to follow his instruction. Yet, after a while, the stunning colors of another dancer’s costume catches your eye; bright red, a vibrant contrast to the white you wear, and a very attractive mask. You look down at yourself and wish for more color.

When you look up, there is sadness in his eyes; he reaches towards you and removes a mask. Ouch, you reach up and there is blood on your face. He leans close to you and bids you keep your eyes fixed on his, it won’t be much longer now. So you lock eyes again and fall back into the elegance of the dance. All night this continues… you grow weary of always looking at him and allow other flashy dancers to catch your eyes. Each time, he removes another mask, each time you bleed just a little; he asks you to keep trusting.

11.58… the young man is growing more excited. 11.59… midnight…. All the dancers unmask, he says you must keep your eyes on his until the last mask is removed. Solemnly, he tells you all these people around you would try to steal your heart behind a mask, but now you can see them for what they are… and he really is the most attractive. Your white, he continues, was not meant to be plain, it is a bridal dress, you are to be his. So much you didn’t know, didn’t understand… and he has your good in mind all along, even forbidding you a mask you so desperately wanted.

Jesus, I don’t think I’m much like those other lovers You have… but then again maybe I am just far too much like everyone else and don’t see that side of myself. That spiritual temple prostitute I was, all the ways I realized I was not worshipping You in my fervent “sacrifice” rang through my mind over the past two weeks when I determined again that I would walk away from that temple where You took my hand, lifted me from at Your feet, spread Your robe over me and called me Your own. I was more outcast than Ruth, I had made myself so; more outcast because my spiritual harlotry was committed in secret: You saw it, guilt from my double life appearing holy and adulterating in secret, in the very place I had made my troth with my Jesus… before the very holy throne of my Yhwh… and I didn’t even realize it.

When You returned to find I had broken our covenant, You destroyed the place we had kept so special… or really You set the flames to gasoline soaked mansion that I had prepared for Your vengeance by my unfaithfulness. I was left in a pile of ashes, myself scorched to the core… and my other lover disintegrated amongst the ashes… looking across I saw Your eyes, full of tears, heartbroken over my infidelity and weeping for the pain You saw You had inflicted in me. But You had to… thank You, Jesus. I found myself there, covered in blood and ashes, just staring at You, Jesus, at a loss for words, for what to say, for what to do… as I left here on break. I had just been disoriented for two weeks, struggling to cling to an old understand and innocent ignorance… I tried to wish away the problem I had confronted, my own lack of realization of my sin… but now I was faced with You. Your eyes bored into me in a way I will never forget… my spirit quivered before You, full of just guilt, knowing that I was full of all the things I did not realize I had been doing, and my sin now exposed… my lack of genuine conversation with You had become replaced with my narcissistic god of self.

Over break Jesus, You began to cross over that sea of ashes. But it wasn’t until everything I had was gone that I could see You’d moved… I thought You were angry, furious, and would never take me in Your arms again. Your first step into those ashes last week blew the charred remains of my sins in my face. The sting, Jesus, the burning… my hands could not protect my face, more burns upon burns… stop moving, my heart can’t bear it? You came gingerly forward, but the closer You came, the more terrified I was of Your coming because of the displeasure and my unworthiness… so I tried to bury myself beneath the ashes, but the coal seared me deeper: I tried to hide my heart still reverberating with Your displeasure, maybe with my own shame at hurting my Jesus… but I could not escape You. You had already fulfilled Your word, “I shall strip her and expose her naked as the day she was born; I shall make her as bare as the desert, I shall make her as dray as arid country, and let her die of thirst.” (Hos. 2.5) So here I am now, Jesus, I couldn’t hide, I let You confront me through others of my continual running and hiding… I ran into Your thorns that You had barred my way with to prohibit my continued fleeing. I have the marks from those thorns in my heart, not just my hands, feet, and side. Here I am, caught on Your thorns, exposed before You, no more two-sidedness… same conversations with You and others.

I heard You say to our Father, “I am going to seduce her and lead her into the desert and speak to her heart.” (Hos 2.16) Here I am, in a desert of our joint creation, my initiation, and You have entered in to meet me, and I think I am ready to begin the real discussion. Too many realizations had to be reached before I was able to call you “My Husband…” and so I say it to You now, my Jesus, and ask you to keep the names of those Baals off my lips. My words have betrayed me… the words I never spoke or dared to write. Those are the words that I find welling up in my soul now, and I approach You with them. You are turning my ashes into mourning and You are covering my shame. But it runs deeper still. I am still returning to that childlike state You promised I would respond to you in… teach me how to reach into the depths of Your heart and just be so that You may flood all my life. I am done with the spiritual wandering, I am ready to love you. I love you, Jesus.

Help me to explore these secrets as You have made me aware of them, help me to allow myself to be exposed as You feel out the depths of me and embody my very being. Let all see You, not me, including myself?

I am sitting after a long time of doing, my Jesus, and I wonder, I wonder if I simply am too unstable without some constant remembrance of You to actually find meaning in the doing, in the thinking. That must be it, because I cannot see, to work out a balance in anything: it is all thinking or all doing, not a combination. Thus, I am always trying, always experimenting, and nothing truly amounts to much because I cannot focus for too long in one direction without encountering some obstacle to me process, and like a pin ball, I am sent traveling into the investigation of the new conflict in the opposite direction in which I began. Jesus, forgive me, I cannot seem to keep focus on You, even as You have been lifted high on that cross, always before me. That forgiveness from a love that was too great to give to me… I have laughed at You and called You a fool for loving me, because I know myself and I know I always ruin You love. I start loving You and then I begin to stop loving You from the same place where I started… oh my, I don’t even know how to love You… I’ve known You most all my life, drunk deeply of my most years of Your mercy, grace, the richness of Your love… but responding to it? Jesus, I am helpless and perplexed, how can I respond? I am foolish with Your love…

You intrigue me with Your desire for my foolishness. The closer I got to the real me being there at home… and I realized I was focusing on the stuff inside too much, trying too much to be the one who dissected, rather than letting You move in the introspection. It was tempting to swing the other way, and just be and do, ignoring what I know lies within, some things beyond my current understanding which I just feel the affects of, because I have not been willing to go deeper. It’s a bit of a fearful prospect, heading into that unknown dark tunnel, where any number of possibilities. Maybe I am still too focused on material destination and not trusting that You have it all in Your hands.

I sit back and look up towards You, knowing my eyes can’t manufacture spiritual form out of physical air in my imagination, that I am too weak to see past this stuff all around me. I know Your kingdom is not of this world, so I could play with all sorts of ideas in form and being… the substance of everything, but I think, Jesus, that You care a bit more the purpose and action rather than where its done. You see the words I speak, and wonder why they haven’t been coming out in my life. You have reached inside of me, Jesus, taken hold of my very heart, and pulled me into Your kiss… and once there, I couldn’t leave. Once married, one can’t run out, even under the self-weight of undeservedness. I look at my life from catching a moment away with You… and I don’t see the love there yet. Sure, there’s improvement there, maybe I’m more like you, but love? I don’t understand it. If I can’t accept it, can I not really give it either?

I think, Jesus, maybe You are still helping me accrue waters in the cavernous regions of my heart beneath the surface of my life.  My heart’s cavern is far too deep… and too often it is so empty… am I a well dug into stone Jesus? You dug the well for me heart, I know, so You can fill it. Is there responsibility on You to fill me? My heart is slow in filling its well to the surface of my actions… and drunk dry so fast that I cannot replenish before life must continue. I come to You Jesus, often an empty well, and I think it is all because my self continues to get in my way. Each time I allow You to fill my well to overflowing, pouring out on the surface on my life, I am blessed by running over, and maybe because You keep supplying the desire because You are the source of my well, and even when I am worn out, You will be full within me. Is this me putting a stop on how deep You can plunge me, Jesus? You want me to lose myself in Your bottomless pit, a never-ending well. How does this look in my life, Jesus?

Last week, I realized a new way that I had separated loves in my life: if it’s true that a house divided cannot stand, that a contradiction should not be springing from a single source, then how can I love You and not show love to them? I am trying to learn how to see You in every person, see every situation as something You have allowed me to participate in. And in the participating, the capturing of my heart, the seducing of my life, You destroy me. You have made me, and at times, I would look up to You and cry because I was trying so hard to love You, but I could not help but love some others as well. Accepting love was a whole other story, but I have been torn between You and people I loved—my circumstances were of my own contrivance most times, but I see Your hand teaching me in them. By making me, calling me into a love covenant with You, I sold myself into Your hands and was given You to cherish. So as much as I am capable of pulling myself together and being self-sufficient, by claiming Your rights over me, I think You disable me of my capabilities, and You give me Your people to love as You, but in holding You tightly, I find myself incapable to maintain the glory of Your name… among Your people, it is ripped out of my hands, or I trod it underfoot as I am sure I have done Your cross over and over.

So here I am Jesus, I see You as foolish for loving me, but I ache for You to transform the willingness within me to Yourself. I am destroyed by my own desire to act and seek, yet I cannot stop seeking and being willing without becoming apathetic. My foolishness is too apparent to others, where my life seems to swing between extremes… one facet of You changes everything for me, that’s how weak I am. Still asking You how to help me surrender Jesus. So maybe for today, I will respond as I feel You telling me… from what I know, from who You are. Teach me this art of cherishing each soul right next to You, my darling Jesus. I am mistaken and have confused and destroyed my own being from Your image. Thus You mercifully reduced me to ashes. Now resurrect me, I need that gift from You, and undeserving as I am, I dare to ask, because I know You love me. I am looking for You to move or move me,  my Jesus, be it in more destruction or disorientation or the beauty of recreation.

Me: Good morning again, my Jesus, it feels like a long time since we were able to catch one another for a real conversation.
Jesus: I know, you have been rushing around since 2 Fridays ago, barely willing to hold still because your heart was so anxious. I’ve just been following you waiting for you to get some time to chat.
Me: Has is really been that long? I was sure we’d talked at least last week…
Jesus: Oh we did, but you really had almost too much on your mind to be as close to me as you try to be at school… you allowed the unexpectedness of the situations shake you a bit. But I was happy that you were trying to be still and feel with the people you love.
Me: Jesus, I’m sorry, I am realizing how much I neglected You when I got frantic, when I felt overwhelmed… I did not take the time to be with You when I needed to most… I am sorry, not trying to make excuses, but I really do find it hardest to go talk with You when I feel those pressures which I realize are our most necessary conversation topics.
Jesus: Hannah, why do you think you’re so hesitant to talk about what you really feel we need to discuss?
Me: Well, the easy answer would be that I don’t want to hear what You’ll say because it will force me to change a behavior I greatly enjoy, give up something which I feel is totally unreasonable/unrelated, or because I am too tired to put forth the effort for more change.
Jesus: Yes, that is the easy answer. You’re still trying to do things again. The first things that come to your mind always involve you and action. Stop trying, Hannah, you’re talking to me now. I have already done all the action part of the trust we’re discussing. You know there is something more than that you don’t want to do, because I think at the root of your self, you really are eager to hear the need to do something, because you don’t deal with love in terms of a gift.
Me: looks down You’re right, I think my life would be so much easier if You handed me a to do list and said to be loved by You, I needed to complete certain tasks. So maybe I need to be humble, admit my own unworthiness, and just take Your gift. As simple as that sounds, I think it must be harder.
Jesus: Maybe it seems harder, but I won’t make it hard for you. I have freed you from the need to focus on yourself—do you remember me telling you that my grace is enough for you , that I will always be strong regardless of how weak you are. You have to let yourself be weak with me, I am safe, regardless of how dangerously I may treat you…. I love you and I would never ask you to suffer anything I haven’t suffered. Including accepting love.
Me: Oh right, that’s comforting. Just accept, just be… pardon me for sounding so bitter Jesus, but I don’t know how to accept love without giving something in return. Whether or not You require it, I feel I have to.
Jesus: Then that feeling needs to change, there’s something deep inside of you that you aren’t letting go of… some part of yourself you are cling to tighter than you are holding onto me.
Me: Jesus, no! I don’t feel that, loving something more than You? How is that even possible now?
Jesus: You’ve spent so much time focusing on how to rid yourself of self that you’ve gotten very unhealthily narcissistic.
Me: Jesus, I don’t love myself, what are You talking about?
Jesus: That’s the problem, Hannah, you don’t see it because it’s painful. You want to be able to earn love, that’s not healthy. You see my blood and you hurt for me over it. Hannah, you can’t allow yourself to want to replace me in that love. Yes, it should have been you, your mind tells you, but you must stop thinking in the potentialities and realize the actuality of our situation: my blood has been wiped right there on that cross, it spanned that space between you and my Father, and look, here I am, with You.
Me: Jesus, my Jesus, I love myself more than you? Wanting to remove the circumstances for someone else isn’t the kind of love You had? You did miracles, You alleviated pain. Why can I not be that way?
Jesus: Because my dear Hannah, you are not me. You are made in my image, you have been made to be a vessel of me, but you cannot do what I can do, you cannot achieve what I have achieved. Allow me to be big in you rather than trying to be big for me.
Me: Jesus, I have seen what a mess I make with Your blessings… You give me a gift and then I go and misuse it, just like that. I convince myself so quickly Jesus that applying how I’ve come to know You as You are… why are You always so good to me? I know I don’t deserve it, I know I have no right to ask.
Jesus: Little one, I have sold my very life to ransom yours… I love you, I cannot imagine a life without you, and I will not stop loving you, so of course I will be good to you. Of course I want you to know me, but trying to be like me and allowing me to work in you are different. You have heard this over and over, yet you still do not understand.
Me: Is it lack of understanding because You are beyond my comprehension , Jesus, or because I don’t want to understand?
Jesus: You will always be wondering at the depth of my love for you… I sold not only my body, but my soul. You will never full understand, but you can come to a place of rest where you are able to just be for me, be used by me, if you are willing… You have sold me your soul by accepting my offer. Yet you are still so timid, you refuse to ask me for what you need.
Me: Jesus, You’re being too sweet, how can I ask You for anything, even to know You better? The taste of You I have been given because of Your love is greater than my own heart can ever process. Of course I know there is more of You…
Jesus: Then why don’t you ask to see me? I will show you myself slowly, and it will always overwhelm you. You can ask because you are made worthy by my love: I have given myself to you just as you have given yourself to me. Of course I am the stronger one in our relationship, but I have made myself weak for you, little Hannah, I laid aside that glory I shared with my Father and came to die a more cursed death than you will ever have to die. Ask of me, I beg you, because I am waiting to be asked of: it is my joy to grant the requests of the heart, to shape your young heart in my hands, to teach you how to desire my love and how to honestly express that love to me by loving others. I gave up so much for you, and you deny me all that I came to achieve in you, with you, by your covering of unworthiness. Hannah, you are no longer unworthy; I am now your covering, I make you able to deserve.
Me: O my Jesus, I have not understood… I thought it was humility to deny myself the very things You offered to me because I wanted to love You so desperately. You are the darling of heaven, the special loved one of God… and He wants to love me the same way? And You suffered for me, o why? Love? I don’t understand this love, Jesus! My crucified Jesus, I still don’t want You to pay for me! Let me be a part, some how?
Jesus: Hannah, your part in my suffering is to accept. So simple at first, so complex behind… and it is the complexity, which causes you to stumble now. Embrace the paradox, do not abandon the simplicity with which you fell in love with me. Somewhere in your heart, you felt the tug for me, even as I was abused and abandoned on the cross. You fell in love with me, child, do you not remember it? You cannot be my father or mother, you must let your self go as my lover. Fall back on the cross, it is not an easy life, but if you really love me, I am challenging you now to give up your trying.
Me: Help me, Jesus… I love You so much it hurts… and I hate how I am my own enemy for loving You. You are so tender with me, yet so cruel at the same time… You will not pry my hands loose of self. I suppose You have given me all the motivation by Your irresistible romance to look at You, and You alone. But teach me what it means to love You, Jesus.
Jesus: I am, my beloved. You realized already that you are different with me than with others. There need be no difference, my Hannah, just look for me in them. Whether or not they are in me, I am there by each one of them. Love me in them, and there you will be loving them. Honor me as if I am right there, serve me as if I am your most cherished lover, your holiest Lord… and let your heart embrace them as me.
Me: Can I really be that way?
Jesus: No, you cannot, because they will hurt you, they will misunderstand your love; You must not speak of it to them Hannah, unless they ask. They will abuse you, you will be confused by the bitterness and anger with which they scorn your love. And then you will know how I feel, and you will think I have abandoned you. And if you did not stand wrapped in my arms and supported by my strength, you would fall. You must be wholly transparent before them and accept the abuse as my teaching love for you, and then you will know me, in the midst of them and in spite of them.
Me: Jesus, it sounds so hard, to see You in them…
Jesus: Hannah, do not let the circumstances blind you. I am with you always. I love you my little one and I will only do what is best for you. So when it hurts most, trust me, my darling.
Me: Jesus, I still do not understand…
Jesus: Then just except my embrace, expect trouble, and risk your soul everyday.
Me: I will just try and love you. No. I do love You.
Jesus: I know you do, and I love you too. I really am always here.
Me: I will do my best to remember, and to try and give faltering voice to my imperfect gratitude… I guess love needs to speak. I just need You to help me find words.

Jesus, I think I have lost what I have begun to think of the art of living, what You showed me was the best path for my feet to fall as I walk after You. Jesus, You’re such a paradox to me, how can You take the very means by which You restored me to life and use it to disrupt me again??? Maybe, maybe it wasn’t You who did the changing of my “redeemer” into my idol. You, Jesus, were the one who restored me to life, and I gave all the credit at first to someone else. My hopelessness in life, the numbness I have been feeling, the inability to feel after having just learned what the art of living contained: that embodied compassion of You, my Jesus, which looks, watches, and feels… it acts in the best of others, learns how to process the beauty of You in the midst of pain. But life has overwhelmed me again. I took what You handed to me out of Your hands.

You never meant for me to do that, did You: Those sweet nail marks were not stretched towards me to be born in my own flesh—You wanted me to place my hands in Yours and remain in You. You handed me abundance beyond belief… and I thought I was set for life that I would never want again. And that is when I withdrew my mouth from the endless stream of living waters: I thought my cup was full, and I was it was running over, but it ceased running over when I withdrew. Jesus, You see me standing here, broken, confused… my cup lies shattered at my feet, and I am drowning in tears rather than the life of Your stream, You endless river. I took my chalice and filled it, and then worshipped the cup, which held the water of life. But the water dies when separated from its source.

I am a part of the source… the river lives on inside of me, but I cannot cut myself off from the source or my well will run dry too. I think I am beginning to understand Jesus, I am still crying out to You that my hope has no place in which to stand: I cannot see the rest of my Savior, I have no harbor for my ship, so I am battered and bruised on the waves of Your chaotic sea. Yet beside me stands the one who can rule the stormy waves. I took your vessel of my redemption, and I named it my redeemer. I took my eyes off You Jesus, from the tumultuous existence I had fought so hard to establish, the faith I had tried to cultivate when all around me was falling to pieces and crashing in around my head. I see that You are my Deliverer, my Jesus. I have seen You pull me out of so much, how can I but testify that my God is mighty to save? Jesus, You are mighty to save, right?

So I am not “cut off” from You, as it were, I know Your presence, but I have no hope for the future. I know that my steps are right in the middle of Your will—I have searched out my heart for guilt, my spirit has been languishing long nights over any possible sin which may be hindering my vision. I know You are near my God, and I know You are moving, my Jesus, but why do I feel like I am stuck, I am wedged between You, my rock, and hard places of life. I feel like I am not moving with You the way we used to move. And I guess it has to be because of me that my hope is lost, because You are my faithful God, You are the strength of my life. So if You are my hope and my inspiration, why do I feel so empty, so hopeless, so uninspired?

Sometimes I feel stuck in a place of stillness, other times endlessly running through the carousel of life: the speed at which I race through the cycles of life, orientation-disorientation-reorientation, terrify me. I am just a pro at ruining what You always intend for my salvation. You, however, will not allow me to perpetually idolize the stuff that You use to bring me back to life. You make goodness out of my failure; You work it even in my midst so that finding a new gift, finding the light at the end of the tunnel has nothing to do with me, and everything to do with You. Let’s stop being so abstract Jesus… here’s my hand with the knife… place Yours over it as I cut in the surgery.

Ok, so I came to You, uncertain, bewildered, empty of language, without hope and a vision… I was a worthless daughter of dust, lower than the beggar who holds out a hand. I was a mute leper in my own heart, I tried to earn love, but I had nothing left to sell except myself. You showed me all that overnight… You ripped the unsure hope out from underneath my feet with one fell swoop and left me falling through the air. I hit the bottom of the pit, and was smashed…. My body was empty of strength… my spirit was tempted to flee and however outside myself while I remained broken. I begged You to come find me, and realized that You were there, the rock I had fallen on. So You began to teach me, gently, slowly, when I looked over and saw You.

You sent me an imperfect vessel to do Your work, it was risky, but You felt our relationship needed the risk, we needed to go deeper. I still didn’t know how to love You: I was still remaining a temple prostitute, trying to solicit the love of my God with my deeds. You did not blame me for this imperfect love, but the more You tried to pry the exchange mentality out of me, the harder I clung. I could not believe that You would just love me because I am Yours and You claimed me. I did not understand the tenderness of Your soul for one like me—one without a concept of the true You I had chosen to love. In all sincerity, my soul has sold itself to gods of humanity to worship You… I didn’t know You intimately. I tiptoed through the life You gave me, seeing every person as a reflection of You, intently searching for You in all. And all my searching got me was a bunch of heartbreak, because I was so sincerely wrong, I so sincerely mistook everything You desired, overcomplicated the gift You were offering.

Jesus, forgive me, I made Your gift a prize to be won… I laid the terms and the stakes, I did not just believe and accept. I put myself in a situation where I could not surrender because I deceived myself into believing that You love was not so free. I thought I could lose You, and that terrified me into obedience. I harmed myself into submission. When human love treated me cruelly, I laid down to it and “obeyed,” though my heart sobbed within me for the life my Jesus, that You promised me. I looked at Your people and was convinced I was only worth to them as much as I could do. So I wore myself out, broke my heart, my body, my soul to try and be worthy of a love I knew I could never achieve. I didn’t know what it meant to live well, because I limited life to my experience. I learned to be capable, because the more capable I was the more I would be loved… but the appreciation didn’t even sink beneath the surface and I remained unknown… I felt unknown by You too.

And then I was given words that told me I mattered not for what I could do, but for who I was. Who I am? Why would anyone care about that? Why would anyone want me to speak, I have nothing to say, I told them. Language stirred within my soul, the first reverberations of healing within me, the first tendrils of heat to a frozen heart. It took the desperation and anguish of breaking to birth the first words I spoke to You. I began communicating because You showed me that was freedom. Your spirit flooded my soul with language and I submitted to You my feeble murmurings. I wept and cried over the words I uttered. Yet You came to me in the form of gentleness and coaxed from my heart speech. You encouraged me to keep trying to tell You, You renewed within me the hope of being understood. I began to come out of the shell I had crammed myself into… and it was crippling at first: I was pale, bedraggled, ugly, stammering and shaking at first, but Your tender wings wrapped me up and helped me struggle. It was a battle for my soul, that battle with my fear for words. But the more I risked, the more You filled me. Soon the old fears were really more of a distant memory.

Maybe I became too self-sufficient with the language, but the inspiration ceased because I think I told myself You and I had made it, there was not more work to be done. Where did I stray, Jesus, I am still trying to understand? I know what You had given me somehow became that which tugged me away from You. Maybe my humanity became to consumed with it, maybe it was a natural tension of growing apart in relationship… I have not identified the cause of it all. I wrestled with what I thought I was, submissive, quiet, unopinionated… and I realized that was the deformed self I had been reoriented from. Yet, I felt the draw to go backwards, because that was how I had been known, and I wanted to be unopinionated because then I was alright. I was still struggling with fulfilling an expectation to be loved. But I had to let go of hindering the change because You drew me in closer, and I fell more deeply in love with You. I looked back, and saw all You had done, how could I give that up now?

I removed the option from my thought and allowed myself to fall off the cliff, into Your waiting arms of love. And so I felt a conflict arising in my soul: my I had two forces tugging within me, the dream of becoming who You made me to be, and the old, acceptable self. And then I realized it was truly a new dream from You—You gave me a purpose and future. I knew it so surely, that I could not even allow the voice in my life anymore, because it always managed to pacify the voice crying in my soul that I knew to be You. Yet… I loved to voice, I wanted to have an image to fall back on. I wanted You to let me love both You and the voice, but You are too jealous, and You love me too much to allow me to entertain temptation. Oh tempting, to think I would be known, be cared for… that I wouldn’t walk through life alone. But I remembered how sufficient You were in my loneliness past, and I relented.

My Jesus, can You ever require a sacrifice of the lips and not the heart? Weeping, shaking again, I crawled to Your altar, regretting every foot and hating every moment… and I ripped out the heart beating within me, because Your hand reached with mind and tore it out. Endless tears… and I refused to speak the words I knew I must say, until I had become so numb and empty it didn’t matter anymore: it was dust in the wind, and I felt alone without a heart again. Jesus, You have set me free and given me the joy of Your life, of being genuine. Of loving and being loved by You. So why do I still struggle with You, why do I still have no feeling, no rest? You have conquered me, I have no more excuses to offer You. I am still yelling into a dark tunnel without light to me, ‘move or move me!’ I know I am in Your will, but there is still no rest for my soul, my weary soul, because relationship has broken. Maybe I have a wrong perspective Jesus, but can it really be as simple as letting go? Do You ever let go? I know I am not You… And Jesus, I am not even asking to know the future, I just want to try and know You now. Bring clarity to my heart as I do my best to remain, waiting for You. What am I running from, what still stands in my way?

Jesus, teach me how to speak, how to be gentle with me words, I guess I have such a harsh heart. You know the depth of my insecurities… I am so unsure of so many things, yet You have promised to never leave my side. I think, Jesus, as I am fighting back tears, that I can see You next to me… and I can’t keep the tears back, Jesus, so my hand and lay Your cheek against mine. Maybe the tears flow over Your cheeks too or maybe those are just Yours. Maybe it is truth that stings me that I did not recognize. Jesus, I whisper on Your shoulder, I’m sorry… I didn’t realize I was being so abrasive to You. I have been too defensive again, haven’t I. I am ashamed of myself, Jesus, I forgot I was talking to You… I was too definite, too strong in my words, and I tried to prop myself up with more words when asked questions. You were not attacking me, but I felt myself on that examining table, and You probed those depths of my soul: I felt backed up in a corner, all eyes were on me and I had nothing to hide my nakedness, so what could I do but be broken over my selfishness. Jesus, that’s what it is, this insecurity, the way I hear people speak You words: I am not looking for You in them, and so they cut me like wounds.

How can I be so untrusting? Have I not placed myself in Your hands? Jesus, all the situations of my life are Yours. Why is it so hard at home? No, we still dance around each other, old wounds surface too easily, and maybe they were healed, but things are still fragile. When truth is spoken, it feels too direct for my soul to bear. Jesus, please break me gently, I’m so sorry, I’m broken already. And when I fell to pieces, I was misunderstood, and seeking for misunderstanding, I am met with the same defensiveness. I get back what I put out… Jesus help me stop the charade of strength and surety. That is not what I intend at all: I am trying to show my true self and I am getting in the way, Jesus. I want to share, to explain what I have been finding, and when I open up discussion, I am not having a meek and quiet spirit. And when the conversation is over, I hope both parties have reached more understanding on the subject. Neither of us are open, Jesus, I see that now, and its shutting off You. We have our pet beliefs, all of us, and maybe we are skeptical instead of open to new possibility. I find that in myself now, I see it in others. Jesus, I want to be open to Your teaching.

Show me what I must do to hear You in the conversation. You have broken the wall of self’s defense, and I am sure it is being discussed now. I have “retreated” to work—I came home to spend time with my family in relationship, but life doesn’t stop for me, and I didn’t expect it to. I never thought it mattered, my coming with what we ate and all. I have been trying to engage more, be part of the life, I have not complained to my family about requests made of me. I have no right to, I have been talking with You about joyfully accepting tasks and relationship over the homework I brought with me. There is only so much time in a day, and I need You… and I have to get the work done. Better if I had stayed at school than come home? Jesus, I put so much aside for people this trip, should I throw it all aside and deal with the consequences once at school? I have “scheduled in” my family, I am trying to engage in life more with them, and I am getting more and more hurt because I see what they think of me and my work: it looks like an excuse to them not to engage. Jesus, I am trying to engage, stay disciplined, help.

My soul can’t stop crying Jesus. Sometimes I have been wishing to just go back and not “be burdened” with family obstacles to getting the work done. You changed my heart once before, change me again, Jesus. Help me get the work done in the limits of time I allow myself… I am trying to hard to be available and fit their schedules. I am not used to things here anymore, they have changed from when I lived here. Communication is different, and I am different too. I have grown accustomed to just dealing with my situations and needs, or neglecting myself for the sake of priorities, but here, I suppose I need to make the people I love and have such a hard time communicating that love to my priorities. We speak different languages, they and I… I cannot read their body language. My sensitivities have surfaced and I stand before them, all my heart on my face, I cannot see myself until their words tear apart the mask I had unconsciously donned in my uncertainty of life here… I tread on ice, thin ice of misunderstanding and old hurt… and I have not been trusting You Jesus to keep me walking on water when the ice breaks.

Jesus, I think I just lost myself. My tears are over, You kissed them away, not coddling my ashamedness, but knowing my spirit is broken enough, You encourage me to more honesty, Risk more, be revealed further, recognize the shards of self that remain in the frame of you when the mirror was broken, You bid me. I am just the frame, You are a more liquid and uncertain mirror than any I have ever seen… almost an illusion, I can sense the spirit-ness of You, like the presence of a thin, vaporous membrane, only really most fully there when my mirror is broken. And I try to take form in the likeness of Your mirror, but I am too concrete… and I do not know how to be fluid. So Jesus, I wish You would just be my spirit, but You require me to work…work with Your Spirit to allow You to be the mirror and me just the frame. You hold my frame together.

How do how I live, now, in a world which is no longer my own, the one I grew up in? I hear it confessed to me that my upbringing has not only conditioned how I understand love (with people and God), but has formulated my understanding of love to be one wholly dependent on my behavior. Oh Jesus, I have discarded Your image, haven’t I, by trying to earn Your love? Maybe my sensitivity to response is conditioned as well… I take everything as an “I love you” or “I love you not” from another. Wow, I really am insecure, Jesus. How did You get so close to me then? My whole life and thoughts on love have been redefined since leaving home: suddenly at school, I was not intrinsically “needed” as a member of a family, the definition of love I had propelled me to work, harder and harder to earn love. So selfish, and so overly dependant on humanity in its imperfection—I had unrealistic desires, which were crushed enough times for me to stop looking to people to help me redefine love. But when I turned my eyes up to You, Jesus, You came to me through people and helped me learn that love really has nothing to do with what I do, in the end.

Every time I’ve fallen, I have hidden my face in shame from the ones who love me… it bewilders me to find that they still love me. I understand loving people in spite of themselves, but why would anyone love me? Jesus I still don’t understand, but I know now I cannot make myself loveable to people: I am who I am, by the grace of God, and who I am, I pray, is always changing into more of Jesus, less of me. But as I struggle in that, I find people still love me. I cannot understand yet, Jesus… I am still uncertain and insecure in their love. Maybe that makes me childish, because I am not sure why anyone would love me; hate I understand more, not why, but I accept it as a fact. I just want to be allowed to love people. Can you help me embrace

As I have been, so help me no longer be. I am sorry Jesus. Help me love You and risk the shards of self, the scattering of me, in order to have You rebuilt in me, more fully. I am unconscious of so much, my Jesus, of all that harshness I never knew was in me. Keep flushing me out of myself, even if I have to cry to You, hurt over it, because I really love You and want You to be whole in me. Take my heart, in Your hands and wring out, let it all spill out… so You can fill me with You. Thank You, Jesus… for clearing my self out and using Yours substance of me.