Part II of my authentic relationship series. Read Part I, The Fact Is, I am Eve Too.
The important thing is, God drew me to Himself through the loss of my first love.
I spent years waiting for God to bring him back to me and heal my heart up; I had watched my ideal become a shadow of the man I knew as God all the while wooed me to Him. It was through this loss that God taught me excruciating honesty with myself - and with Him - about what was in my heart. (Ps. 15:1-2) He asked me to pour myself out to Him, challenged me to bring the whole mess of my heart into my relationship with Him.
It wasn’t as if He didn’t already know what was there – my emotions, my struggle, my misdirected passion. “No brave front, no measuring up, just Kelly,” He overrode my broken-hearted embarrassment, taught me of my own humanity, created in His image to feel His own heart. Long months passed into years, and I found His heart to be the safest place I’d known.
As I grew into this God-love, it became apparent to me that if I were to marry (even the man for whose return I prayed), I would have to be the same person with my husband that I am with God.
Pete - Peter, my now-husband (I am still bashful to say his full name! It's like Jesus, so precious to me, so secret-deep in my heart-space...) - was a coworker that I didn’t know until we got rained into a coffee shop together with the Lord pushing him to ask the real that would cause me to set aside the shallow "deep" to which I’d resigned myself. When he asked about my God-passion and revealed his own, the layers peeled away from my heart with the shock of it. We didn’t stop talking for six months, until he was in love with me and I found hope that I could, indeed, love again.
But the transition between my wait-love for another and my it’s-time-now-love for Pete was shockingly abrupt. Neither of us realized the long healing process ahead for me, and ultimately, for both of us.
I married my husband with a broken heart.
(Image © Informal Moments Photography)