I talked to Jessica today. So interesting how just as I was feeling this summer – despite my times of weariness – that I am on the cusp of seeing all my seeds sprout, and just as I had really been feeling that my separation experience was drawing near to the end of its purpose, I’ve noticed more opportunities arising to share my journey. Opportunities arose before but I literally felt like Zechariah whose tongue was silenced until his old, barren wife, Elizabeth, gave birth to their son, John the Baptist. It was like I couldn’t speak of it. And a good thing, too. I needed this separation experience to learn God’s voice, yes, but also my own and also to know – to really, truly, experientially know – what it was to stand on my own conviction with no support. Because even as I’ve shared and received support or silence, no one agrees with the wisdom of my decision to hold onto B____. They can’t know it hasn’t just been me. They can’t countenance that great, misty, distant God actually guiding my footsteps, my decisions, even my feelings. So I’ve been able, through that time of utter silence and total dependence on God to the exclusion of everyone else, to share gently and confidently my story. And this separation experience has also been so very vital, too, because by this point, God himself has become an indispensable character in the story, and it’s mostly – all right, entirely – unbelievers (to one extent or another) with whom I’ve had the opportunity to share my life. I have gently but with conviction shared what God has done for me, what he’s been for me, what I know of him. I haven’t preached it, but neither could I have left it out for comfort’s sake. It would be like saying a sentence with only every other word – it wouldn’t make any sense. This year, this life of mine, is in no way just about me – about what I’ve done, how strong I’ve become, ways I’ve grown. Half of the words are mine and half are God’s.
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So as I’ve been pondering this question of action toward B____, mulling over Kelsey’s brilliant and totally unexpected perspective, Jess had the opportunity to share hers. And just as Kelsey shared a perspective on B____’s position to me, Jess showed me a perspective on me to B____. As I told her Kelsey’s thoughts on the letter, Jess agreed and then said, “You know, I know you pretty well, and so did Brock. And I know you’re the type of person to have very strong convictions, and once you’ve made them they’re not budging. So he probably took that letter as your conviction that it was over for good and you both had to move on."
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Wow.
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As soon as she said it, just as when Kelsey shared her perspective, I could practically hear another puzzle piece click into place. It made so much sense.
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And it got me to thinking: my main concern about B____ - to contact or not to contact, or rather to initiate or not to initiate – had revolved around what was best for him. Because it’s not just my life that would be affected; it would be his, too. And I knew one of the areas God would work on in B____ would be his inability to take a real risk without having some sort of guarantee it would work out. And I felt that once God worked on that, B____ would get to the point of missing me so much he would be willing to bust down the door to get to me. But after talking with Kelsey and Jessica, I started to realize something.
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When I first shared my journey with Mom and Dad in June, I had started thinking about their inevitable question of why didn’t I do something about it if I was convinced of B____. But I also started to consider for the first time the possibility that maybe I would need to make the first move. And now I’m seriously beginning to believe that is indeed the way here. Maybe that particular remodeling project in B____’s heart – the ability to take a risk – would manifest itself in his choice this time to actually respond and give it a real go, even if some questions and risks lingered.
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And I realized something I had not realized before about B____’s nature. While his inclination toward seeing to everyone else’s needs before his own (sometimes to the entire exclusion of his own) has been thrown way out of balance by the nature of his life (like an obsessive-compulsive being asked to clean out your pantry), it is nonetheless an inextricable part of his nature. The nature that God put in him at the start. God had a vision of the man B____ was meant to become when he was knitting him together in his mother’s womb. He didn’t just throw a few elements of human nature together and hope it would turn out. B____ was intentional. And while his care-giving and selfless nature has been thrown out of balance a bit, it was intended all along to be a part of him.
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Which makes it all the more logical that B____ would be the gentlemen he’s always striven to be. It is not his nature to barge into my life if he thought it would just set me back and screw up my life. And taking into account Kelsey’s belief that that letter closed every conceivable opening, and Jess’ thought that B____ would know enough about my own nature to accept non-negotiables as part of the package, it does indeed make sense that he would need an invitation.
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After all, God very rarely smashes in the door of someone’s heart or life. He “stands at the door and knocks.” He is a gentleman; he waits until he is invited. B____ is the same way.
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So the question shifts from, “What should I do?” to “What will I find when I do it?” I may have some preconceived notions of what I’ll find. I may have envisioned B____ just sweeping me up in his arms. I may have an image of him growing with God as I have. I may find him quite unchanged on the outside. It could be that this all has been a time of preparation and at the slightest tap from me, the old shell shatters like blown glass. So I’m not taking my expectations to B____. I’m taking them to God. Because I know what I’ll find there. I know how he is and how sturdily I can count on him. And I know everything will happen as it ought. After all these years of struggling with that declaration, I can finally stand on that.
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You know, last night, I was reading my Bible, just idly flipping through, and landed on a story of King David in 1 Samuel 25 that I had never heard of or encountered myself. When King Saul was pursuing David and his men, David was camped out in the desert. He was near another man’s land and decided to watch over and protect this man’s property, livestock, and servants. Then later, David asked that the man show him some hospitality and was rebuffed. He grew angry and said he had basically wasted his time and his resources and was going to punish the man for this unforgivable offense. Then the man’s wife, Abigail, showed up, just as David said this, and extends her hospitality and loyalty. And David realized all of that investment had been about to be wasted and God stepped in just in time to spare him that regret of waste. And it just struck me: how close I’ve come to throwing in the towel, or at least just going through the motions, compelled but without belief, and all of it would have gone to waste and this glorious life I’m standing for would slip back into the mists. But that’s what’s so great about God. He has his own purposes and he “knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust” (Ps. 103:14). And I’m moved by his compassion that even when we fail, or we’ve done everything and are still waiting to see results, he steps in and makes our efforts worth it, brings them to fruition. He is, indeed, remarkable and completely trustworthy.
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