Someone has been on my mind this day, and I find myself near to tears, in longing, in knowing I do not deserve, in a surprising willingness to wait. Regrading them, I now have no excuse. I must simply wait, and pray both for myself and, as an intercessor, for her. No longer can I cry out that no one has ever fit the mold formed by the pieces of information God has given me over the years regarding the one whom He would give me as my wife. As unexpected, and unthinkable, and unfathomable as it is, there is, now, one female who fits every part of that mold.
There is one.
I must not look for another. I must not seek for another. I must not accept another (except she also fit that same mold, which I severely doubt will ever again happen, anyway, genuine women of faith being so very few and far between).
There is one.
When God told me, “She is in your life—right now.” I had already been in the same place with her and her family on at least one occasion and, I suspect, many more. When I was, at that same time, given the impression that she would not stay but would leave my life to return later, that also fits, because I left the churches wherein I had been in their presence, until later, when we both converged on the same congregation and became friends.
There is one.
The mark that God told me He had placed on me that would do me great harm will never be removed from me, except that it be removed from the heart of one special lady who would return to me in repentant Love. When I placed that gift back on that altar, knowing it was her, yet not understanding, she began to lose her faith, but, months later, returned to me to repent (knowing nothing of this), and found herself loved.
There is only one woman who has EVER displayed repentance to me whom I could have even mistake as being eligible by the mold—and it was so stunning when I awakened to the realization of it. It was so unexpected, so unthinkable, and so unfathomable, that I could never have come up with it myself. I do remember a time, years ago, when we took a ride together in my van, after dark. I had to go somewhere to get something and return to where I was, and she decided to ask to come with me—and I was so disturbed by the energy that I felt in that van that I pressed up against the driver door and actually avoided her for quite some time.
SHE WAS ONLY A CHILD!!
She is no longer a child, but a young adult who has my love and respect. I must respect her freedom, so I must wait, and hope, and pray, that, in her freedom in Christ, she will choose me. If not, I have no loss, for I have Christ.
Oh! Convince me, Lord! Convince my wailing heart! I feel as if I have lost so many friends; as if everything is being shorn away! But I will trust in Thee! Amen!
I do not normally take so much space for one journal entry. If you have been faithful to read, even after our schism, then you know this to be true.
I, you see, have been battling this all day—whether or not to publish this entry as a blog post. It is so exposing! Reactions could be so severe. I do not so much fear consequences to me. I have Christ, and nothing can tear that away from me. But what of others? What of the consequences to them—to those I hold so dear? What right have I to expose them?
Let me, at least reiterate the particulars of this situation, and at least make an effort to put them in proper order.
I had been a Christian for a short time. It was in the warm months that I found myself in a park near the church where I was attending, praying for a wife. Wanting to place my prayers “on the altar”, so to speak, I was devastated when God told me, “Lay it aside!” not allowing me to do as I had wanted to do.
As a Christian, I have always been a single man, wanting to be married. It has been a long, solo, sojourn.
Later, I was working at my job, paying attention only to my duties when, out of the blue, “She is in your life, right now!” was accompanied by the impression, very clear, that she would not stay in my life, but would leave, to return later. It was later revealed to me that a mark had been placed on me that would cause me great harm, causing women to fear me, and slander me and commit all manner of wickedness against me—all because of that mark—but that the mark would be removed from the heart of one special lady, who would return to me in repentant love. Mark that well: She would leave to return later, and would be returning to me in repentant love.
My ensuing attentiveness left me so frustrated and embittered against women—all women who had done me such wickedness and evil, all while claiming to be Christian—that at times I would rail against the very thought of it. The wickedness and evil of their unrepentant hearts was being exposed at my expense, and I wanted no more of it.
And the hatred fostered by my wounded heart boiled within.
Then one day, quite unexpectedly and exceedingly undeservedly, a nine year old girl befriended me, and I began to heal. We have not ceased to be friends (I hope), but we have not seen each other regularly in quite some long time, and, so far as I know, she has never had reason to repent, at least as far as coming to me, that is, and I would hold nothing against her if she did.
Within the last, oh, year and a half, I guess, though, her younger sister (the van rider) and I picked back up our old friendship and began to correspond.
It was then in October 2014 that I was pointedly asked, in the spirit, “Will you accept or reject My gift?” Needless to say, I was quite thrown by that, and it left me in an utter state of confusion, so I began to pray and to ponder and to meditate, and the nature of the gift being referred to began to become less muddy. It became clear that the gift was not a what, but a who, and I began, then, and finally formalizing it at the turn of the year, picturing myself once more before that altar where I had been rejected all those years ago.
This time, though, I was holding a magnificent gift in my hands, and facing the altar. Over the months of seeking truth, I had come to a conclusion as to what the safest course would be; one that would not offend my Lord, and would not leave me running down errant rabbit trails of loneliness-induced desires.
I placed that gift on the altar, and, my entire being (body, soul, spirit, and mind) shaking more severely than a fully loosed San Andreas, backed away, fervently desiring to be given the gift back.
It was some months later that I discovered, my own struggles being completely unknown to her, that as I placed that gift back on that altar, the subject of the gift began to lose her faith.
She, then, did something remarkable and, to my experience, completely and totally unique: she turned to me to confess her faith struggles, and I was granted the grace to be able to counsel her back into her faith. Then, after that, on April 6th, I, still in my own struggles, took a step of faith and wrote a hymn thanking my God for the gift that I have not yet received.
On June 26th, in an email from someone blindly trying to counsel me, three words were spiritually echoed: “Wait for her!” which command still reigns supreme.
So great has been my struggle that at one point, while I was raging in my spirit against the confusion that still rose within, thinking that I was waiting for someone who needs (and STILL needs) to come to me in repentance over what she had done to me, my Lord and Savior spoke into my spirit, these words, which started a river wide torrent of tears from within me, begging forgiveness for my stupidity and blindness, “I never said that she would harm you, but that the mark would harm you,” the blind counselor remaking at its convenience, having never accepted the fact that this was nothing that I had sought or conceived, much less desired.
Then, still knowing nothing at all of my struggles, nine months following the question, “Will you accept or reject my gift?”, on the seventh day of the seventh month of the fourteenth year of my solo sojourn, I opened an email to discover a recording of the subject of the gift singing her own music and arrangement—with powerful, strident emotion—of the very hymn that I had written to God, thanking Him for the gift which I have not yet received.
Since then, my world has blown up in my face, but I hold to God, for Satan cannot defeat this, except by driving wicked, evil, unrepentant women to return to me in repentant love. Ponder that. And ponder this:
For we know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to His purpose.
Amen! May it ever be!