“Are you sure that he was the one?” they asked me.
We were sitting on the swing set residing in the back of our college campus. It was dusk, my favorite time of day. Just two lone souls, ebbing and flowing with the rocking of our feet. They in their white t-shirt and I in my flannel.
“I was sure about two months ago but I’m not so sure now. If you had asked me then, I would have bet my life that him and I- we were that thing called forever. We could’ve out shone the sun if you had asked me two months ago. But now, I think I’m forgetting him.”
What I didn’t say was that someone else was filling that hole, the one he tore open in my heart. You couldn’t know it was you, the one that saw every broken piece of me reflecting on my face when we first met, you couldn’t know that our 2 p.m. walks and movie nights would mean so much to me. If I’m being completely honest I didn’t see you coming. You were the one that took me by surprise and to be truthful, I am not 100 percent sure you are the one either.
I’ve moved on from the idea that we all have that one person that completes us. I don’t believe that. I think we are whole without another human residing within the depths of us, we aren’t some puzzle that needs solving by someone else.
Don’t let someone try to tell you that they need you.
A friend of mine who lives 3000 miles away from me texted me out of the blue one night:
“God needs you more than you’ll ever want someone to need you.”
It’s frightening to think that I place the fear of being lonely above the fear that God won’t love me. It’s more times than not that I find myself talking to someone out of the fear of the lonely ache that sets in at dawn and not a real desire to mean something to them. If I’m being honest, I talk to people when I’m lonely because talking to God scares me: how will I know if He’ll show up?
But God needs us and wants us and loves us. That causes me to shake in fear because I have never been needed and wanted and loved by someone who could really stay, who could really know all of me. So I stay tucked in my comfort zone, I stay with people who text me “but I need you” and I try to save them when I know I can’t.
We often place ourselves right in the line of fire. We latch onto those who need us because all we would rather do is fix other peoples problems before acknowledging our own. It’s a cycle laced in fear and discomfort. And aren’t we all just looking for someone to save who will in turn sweep in and rescue us from our own demons?
I’m the girl who is always looking for the next person she can save.
I have so much fear inside of me and problems I hide under the blanket called insecurity that I focus all my time on others. How can I help you today? How can I better you today?
And I have wore the savior cape for far too long and God is unraveling the threads as I breathe. Inhale. tug, tug. Exhale. tug, tug.
It scares me that God has a plan for me. There I said.
It scares me because it means that even though I like to think I am in control, I really am not. And for a girl who loves to be in control a God that reigns is the most frightening thing of all. A God that reigns means that I have to let it all go and surrender everything to Him. I’m telling you now that I am growing tired and my knuckles are turning white from all I am holding tightly too.
I’m not sure how to let go of fear.
I’m not really sure how to take the first step to unclenching my hands. When control is all you’ve ever known, how can you let it up to one whom you have never seen? God, don’t you know how badly I ache to see you?
I read that God is good. I read that even His plan for me is good and I cannot fathom that yet. I cannot fathom how to be vulnerable with Him, completely vulnerable. When life starts to hit you on the head with fear, shouldn’t we be turning to the hands that can lift it from our shoulders? I am learning that the answer to this is yes. But it is harder to be vulnerable with myself and God than with other people. That’s what I am learning as of late. That’s what God is whispering to me today:
Let it go, small one. Let it all go and I can take it from here. You can’t be the lead runner of this race forever, that’s where I come in. Give me the exhaustion, the nights when you can’t stand and all you can do is fall onto your knees. Give me the fear, the worries that haunt every dream and moment. Give me the shame and disappointment, let me wash it away with Grace and Mercy. Have faith, little thing. Have mountains of Faith and Trust and I promise, everything will turn out fine. This will all turn out fine. Give me everything, small one. Give me all.