So she picked me up and we went to lunch at Fazolis. We'd barely settled in with our baked spaghetti plates when I started feeling unbelievably sick to my stomach. I felt so sick I had to ask her to take me home right then, and we hadn't even eaten! She rushed me home, and I elected to stay there the rest of the afternoon, just in case things got worse. I desperately wished Isaac could be there to take care of me. (Yes, I'm one of those.) He couldn't, obviously, but he did send loving, sympathetic texts and emails to me throughout the day.
Since I was home resting on the couch, I had plenty of time to read, think, and journal. I wrote,
Streams is so beautiful…”Christ is building His Kingdom with the broken things of earth. People desire only the strong, successful, victorious, and unbroken things in life to build their kingdoms, but God is the God of the unsuccessful – the God of those who have failed. Heaven is being filled with earth’s broken lives, and there is no ‘bruised reed’ that Christ cannot take and restore to a glorious place of blessing and beauty. He can take a life crushed by pain or sorrow and make it a harp whose music will be total praise. He can lift earth’s saddest failure up to heaven’s glory.”
I had absolutely no clue that I was about to be broken in two and failure was about to become the way I defined my every move. Even so, I wrote, I’m counting on You, God, to have a glorious purpose in all this! Help me to achieve balance. Help me to depend on You. Change me. Mold my expectations into real ones. I don’t want to exhaust him so.
Let me just interrupt my own story here to say I wrote those things in my journal mostly because I knew those were things I should be saying. Looking back now, I don't think I gave even half a thought to what they might actually mean for me. I never expected God to take them seriously. But He did.
The next day, I was better, but my father got sick. So sick, in fact, Mom had to take him to the emergency room and he was admitted for observation for the night. Isaac was the first person I wanted to talk to as soon as I heard the news. Even though he was busy with work, he took time out to make sure I was okay and to assure me he'd be right there (in text land) if I needed him.
That night I wrote, Isaac has been so wonderful to me tonight. He’s talked to me and taken care of me and prayed for me. I am so blessed that he’s been so gentle. Thank You, Jesus, for how gentle and caring he has been…he was there for me, right away. Jesus, how is he so good to me? How is he so tender?My heart aches for this to work, God. I long to be loved and cared for. And even though we haven’t used the “L” word – I do feel so loved. He must feel it’s at least possible if he’s willing to talk long term thoughts with me.
My favorite moment of that day actually came at 12:45 in the morning (which was into Wednesday), when I awakened to a text that said, “I can’t sleep. Are you still up?” I loved it that in the moment he couldn’t sleep, he wanted to talk to me. An absolute dream come true. He did call, and I was so tired that I couldn’t remember much of what he said, but I do remember that he said he could tell even on the phone how I would take care of him in real life. And he said he just needed to hear my voice. How could I not love that!?!?
Wednesday night, I wrote, I admitted it out loud to myself today. I love him. I can’t tell him yet. The time isn’t right. But I do know I love him. And that is so weird to me. How can I love someone I’ve never even met? And yet I do. I see his heart and his gentle love for You and I love him, God! Tonight he asked me to pray for him and my heart soared because I can think of no greater honor than to lift him up in prayer.
God, how can my heart ache this much? A good ache. But a deep one. He needs me. He wants me to be there with him and it KILLS me that I can’t be. I want to be able to be right by his side and lift him up and support him. Jesus, how am I ever going to be able to stay calm when I ache for him so much and even believe I love him?
He told me last night I’d be a good wife. And God I want to be. I know that’s crazy to say after just almost a month, but it’s true.
I love this in Streams. So perfect. “O restless heart – beating against the prison bars of your circumstances and longing for a wider realm of usefulness – allow God to direct all your days. Patience and trust, even in the midst of the monotony of your daily routine will be the best preparation to courageously handle the stress and strain of a greater opportunity which God may someday send.” Seriously!? Could this be any more perfect?
This next part, I hesitate to share, but I think it's important. I don't speak of this often and haven't ever shared it in such a public forum before. I won't go into detail because it's both private and painful, but about ten years ago - actually, exactly ten years ago - I went through an experience where someone treated me in ways that were inexcusable. I was deeply wounded, spent several months in counseling, actually, and through the love and patience of many people and through the healing of the Lord, I was able to move past it and continue with a normal life. 364 days out of the year, I don't even think of it anymore. But there is usually that one random day when it hits me and suddenly I'm reliving it in full color and sound. I never know when that day will come or what will trigger it. There seems to be no rhyme or reason.
That night, after I journaled, Isaac called. We talked for a while and then he had to go take another call. In the short time between calls (literally less than 20 minutes), I had a flashback of the incident from years before. No idea why. I tried to shove it away so I could be collected when he called back. I thought I had succeeded
Oddly enough, when he called back, his first question was, “So, did anything happen since I last talked to you?” He had never asked a question like that before, nor has he done so since. I believe it was Divine Intervention. I tried to hide my tears, but he knew something was wrong and he pressed me about it – so I told him. And in that moment, my trust in him deepened to a level I didn't even know existed.
Later, I added to my journal, I cried but he was patient and gentle. He wanted to take care of me and I wanted to let him. You’d prompted my heart to tell him. To be honest. To let him know me. And I balked at it but his persistence paid off. Thank You Lord, for his tenderness and protection.
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