Meet the Author's Author

Meet the Author's Author
Live for Jesus! That's what matters! That you see the light in me and come along! :)

Wednesday, August 07, 2013

The Mud-Puddle Muddle

Never in my life have I felt so blind and helpless, and not in a very long time have I felt God's presence this close.

It's been a while since I've blogged properly on Walk With Us. Because to truly blog means sharing my heart...and my heart hasn't been in a place to be shared for a while.
Not that it is now, for what I have to share is delicate and sensitive on raw issues, both for me and for others, so I will have to try to pick my way lightly through the lines of this tale, and for this reason even now I am procrastinating as I try to write.

One of the things that convinced me to share is a prayer I prayed on the way home, asking God to help me remember what I was to write, if He wanted it. My memory is a sieve on two legs, and I let the evening hit me. When I sat down to write alone, the thoughts are still here.
Another is a quote from a very wise lady.
"Our story is who we are, & if we deny it, we deny ourselves – and the very Author Who's writing this redemptive epic." ~Ann Voskamp

There will be many things in here that you will find hard to accept or even understand. Please, accept them as you read - if not believing them. This is where God has lead me.

Walk With Us is not just a blog about where I walk; it's a walk with me and the Lord. It is on my heart to share this with you tonight.

As I pick up the dangling and tattered threads of my life to weave together into a tale for you, I would introduce you to two of the guys in my life.
Let me remind you of a man I've told you about in many blog posts; a wonderful man who God called me to love without that love being returned. We called him Mr. C.

Also, another guy who I met last year. We'll call him Greg. He's a nice guy, not a Christian, but weak. Nearly a year ago, on our second meeting, through a sudden and shocking twist of an afternoon, I lost my virginity to him. We met up a couple of times after that, kissing etc happened but God held me and my friends fought with me and for me, and in December I finally cut contact. Bar Facebook.

How do I explain to you the depth of my love for one man and the despair created by the dark and wild floods of life that often rocks me off my feet? How can you possibly understand how I can love one man so much and be so blinded by pain that I fall weakly into crazy and sinful traps?
*half smile* I cannot defend myself. God knows. Maybe He will whisper it to you.

I am what has been termed spiritual-based in my relationship with God. It hurts and makes me cry when people doubt His existence and I cannot build a logical argument to fight for Him.
I used to be quite a reasoned person (able to fight for my faith logically) as well as emotional, but one day, on returning from my backslide, He took that ability from me. I still don't know why. I remember when.

At this point, I have to explain something which many people will find hard to accept...

I "see" things. Not often, not globally and not clearly. Just an impression. "Seeing things" is a hard way to describe it. More, I get an innate feeling that something is about to or will happen. Not once has this been wrong.

I had the...consciousness, then, if you will, for about a month that Greg would be returning to my life. Not just that...but when I didn't shun it out of point-blank terror, I saw that...myself pregnant, with his child.
I know that seeings can be warnings and avoidings. And I tried to focus a mindset around this, to that.

My work shift changed about then to a 3:30pm til 8:30pm shift.

Then one day, he messaged me. I was unsurprised, though slightly (as usual) freaked about the implication of the "seeing" with that.
I messaged him on the Saturday after, just briefly to check what times he was working so I knew whether or not I was liable to bump into him.
Monday morning, I thought about it, realised the idiocy of what I'd done and was going to delete the message. By the time I remembered later that morning, he'd responded. And we ended up arranging to meet up. He said he'd wait after work.

I walked around the house preparing for work in a total daze, begging God to forgive me for being so stupid and asking - begging His deliverance. A peace came over me that He would look after me and protect me in spite of myself. As I walked down the alley on my way to the bus stop, I stuffed my earbuds in and started my MP3...and the song that began to play? "Mighty to Save".
Consequently, laughter through tears. I knew, though I still feared a little, that we would not meet that night. And we didn't. He apologised the next day, initiating a longer conversation that left me in no doubt of what he wanted.

Things with Mr C have been in a cyclic bad wave for some time. And it's no longer just me kicking him away. First, we'd had a problem, I'd sent him a long email, and things levelled out for a week. Then there was a scene where he was chatting to a mutual friend, who accidentally misinterpreted some of it back to me, and another rupture broke out. Somewhere in the middle of this, the following happened.

On the following Friday, I sent Greg a message. We nearly arranged to meet that night, but I said I was busy and gave him my working hours for the next day. I came out of work Saturday to three calls and a message saying he was waiting for me.
Even then, God was working against my evil side for me. I had train tickets bought that day, and I'd have to take the bus to meet him.

It's hard to explain the way my head works. It's hard to figure out how much is the evil side of me, how much the abused. I know the good and evil fight a lot but I get confused pretty easily, and I think that's one reason why God's so close, fighting for me. Because I really, really do want Him more than anything. Just I get lonely, and scared, and hurting, and stuff. :P And when Mr C goes, I kinda stop caring what happens to me.
Judge me if you will. I'm glad He doesn't.
Half led by the fatalistic thing I had about the "seeing" and the fact that I'd agreed, I chose the bus. Chatted to Brendan (who didn't know) and Fionale (who did) until I arrived. They were praying.

We met. Went into the pub for a drink. Talked. Talked a lot...about what I was doing, what he was doing. He told me about his previous relationship and just how torn up it had made him. We kissed. Talked some more. General conversation.
But... *smiles slow* interspersed through this. He kept looking at me and telling me I was too good. He didn't want to hurt me. Too innocent. Too cute. Oh, believe me. I assured him I was not.

But I think...he could see something I cannot.

Because you know what one thing he said to me stuck in my head?
"If it was any other girl, I'd have asked her to my apartment by now. I say stuff to you online, but when I meet you... you're too good. Too...into Christ."

Ouch. And bliss. Can one have an ouchful bliss? I did. I admit to some shame at that point, knowing I had come knowing what he had in mind and only wanting to alleviate the pain, uncaring what happened to me and wanting revenge on myself for loving Mr C. I'd gone there expecting nothing good, though hoping at the same time it wouldn't happen. And then...he told me I was too into Christ for him to do anything.

Yes, I was blessed. In a weird way. That...people can see that much of Christ when I'

That day, or the day before that, the news came back to me from the mutual friend that Mr C had decided he only loved me as a friend. I attempted to close the friendship, and he refused. We chatted again the following evening - I haven't chatted with him since, though we did swap a few messages over the past week and a half. (Which means I'm doing really well for only my physical health to be collapsing. :P)

I was chatting to Brendan on the bus the night after that hurt dropped its fiery darts into my heart. Removed my "protection" ring on the trip back - with the slightly-amusing-slightly-horrifying approach of one man later on the trip. Decided to take up the dreary course I had previously prepared for something such as this. And to leave myself open to short term relationships - but making it quite clear that I didn't want, and would refuse, any long term ones. Just to make do.
The hollow feeling that left me with is probably pretty well known to those of you who read this far.

We had to divert around some road traffic before pulling up at my bus stop. I stepped off the bus and turned left to start walking down the road. And blinked as I saw a random tire cover fastened to the back of this road-surfacing truck - a tire cover that didn't even fit there. And written on it was the last name of Mr C.
I hate crying in public, but I did. And I heard God speak to me, clearer than in a long while.
"What do you think you're doing? Have I told you to stop loving him?"
"No, God. But it hurts! I can't take the pain any more."
"Does that matter more than following me?"

No, of course it didn't. And I knew where He had called me. So I prayed, walking home, again. Repenting of my attitude and recommitting to what He'd called me for for as long as He'd called me to it. Unsure what to pray about the entire mess, so just praying for him and to fix things generally.

Then last weekend, another bombshell dropped out of a totally blue sky which practically destroyed the little hope I had left.
Here are a few phrases from the diary entry I made that day.

'I can't deny the constant agony in my heart, the why, even as I'm praying blessed be the name of the Lord, the why I couldn't have even one beautiful thing in my life. One earthly beautiful thing. God wants me entirely focused on Him and this is His method of purifying me but oh God, my God, it hurts.
I keep crying Eloi, Lama Sabacthani, and He keeps whispering, I haven't left, Sian, I just want you to lean on me. He's close.

I will pray... but God, God, oh God have pity on me.

I keep thinking that the love for him, the deep, deep love is fading, replaced with friendship. Then there's nights like tonight. The pain, the depth, the pain, the pain...and the knowledge of what it means to me to let go...and the knowledge that I can because God will give me strength to love him the best. I am growing tonight. Two months – two weeks – a week ago, I would have said I had let him go and still be fighting unconsciously. But after that recent splash...and the admittance that he only loves me as a friend, and my telling him that I love him enough to let him go...

I have nothing left. I am not fighting for him. And this isn't a I-don't-care-I'm-not-fighting-because-I-want-him-to-pursue collapse.
This is an I-have-nothing-left collapse.
I am not messaging him, not shutting him out. Just...numb. Until now.
I have nothing to give, nothing to say. Only wordless sobs and tearful cries to God. Cause He hears me. He will heal me.

I have no internet on the train. No Brendan to rant to. Just the silence. God. Just the music. The folder on my MP3, which...praises God, and prays for him, and reminds me to keep loving. Songs like “Blessed be Your Name”. “Our God”, Tomorrow, “Worth the Wait”. It hurts. But it's a hurt that will draw me to God and not poison my existence in dark retreat this time. That is where Satan always drives me – and this is Godly love. Oh God keep me.
And my Bible. And my tears. And praying.'

So now I have no idea where I'm going. No idea what's going on. Literally living from day to day, grieving randomly, but with a new trust in God born. Finally, He has brought me to the place where I cannot squirm another inch. I will not fight because I's up to Him now. Whatever He will do is right.
And yes, I get nervous. Yes, I think about all the people who will tell me loudly that God didn't make our lives to be lead by Him, but for us to make a path ourselves and that that was His will because He already knew it. I feel terrified that it's all out of control and all in this terrible, heartbroken mess. I loathe being this vulnerable, and I laugh with sorrow at the fact that this love for this man is the one point God uses to crack most of the stuff in my life because it is the most sensitive, most vulnerable and most open-to-Him spot that I have.

Then I look back to Him. And I look back on this small recent saga of miracles, and the closeness of His Spirit to me. And I know it's in the best possible Hands. Oh yes, I'm grieving. And my soul and body are crumbling. But I won't...spiritually collapse. Because...the Hands of the Healer are underneath, and the Everlasting Arms are around.

I guess...I wanted to share this. Not because I like exposing my dark side. Not because I wanted the respect of people to go and to be shunned. But to show you...what God can do...what God does deliver.
We'd like to believe He doesn't leave a door open. That we control our own lives and He sits there and allows it all uncaringly.
He loves us. And He guides us.
If we leave our hearts and wills open to that leading.

Because faith sometimes means stopping clinging onto God's promises and letting go completely. Because then we fall back onto Him. Nothing else to hold us. We're not doing the holding then. He is.

And that's the best place to be.

Those who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall soar up with wings as eagles. They shall run and not become faint; they shall walk and not become weary.
Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.
Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.

I won't pretend to have grasped all of this, but here's what I'm feeding off.
When you delight yourself in the Lord, He becomes the main focus and desire of your heart. Trusting in God is being driven to the uttermost extreme of durability, having no place left to run and the entire situation/life look black around you, and still turning to God and saying, I trust You Lord.
And as we wait for Him to move, helpless, hopeless, but fixing ourselves onto Him, He does indeed strengthen us.

I hope that my sorry retelling will have done what I prayed it to do. That it will lead you...closer...that you will see even through my crippled form, the steady Hand of God and the depth of His Love.
I will know that love.

In His Name,
Mademoiselle Siân