I read a romance novel this week.
Romance was always my favorite genre to read. I loved love. I loved the journey that the characters took to find each other, to find their person. Because I knew, intimately, how it felt to find your person. To be fully known and fully loved, just as you are.
But...my romance turned into my tragedy...
The irony being that if I had never loved, and been loved, so deeply, I would never have hurt so deeply.
It was a cheesy romance. The kind that has you guessing the end about 30 pages in. But it still holds some simple joys. The meet cute, the animosity turned into interest, the understanding that they each have depths the other didn't see at first, the realization that they found their person, some silly misunderstanding that breaks them apart, and the climax that reunites them in declarations of forever and undying love.
Forever...
Undying love...
It was actually painful when I read that book...vividly remembering what I had and what I lost.
I thought that I might be able to believe in love for myself again.
I thought that finding it would be so simple.
If only I had the courage to be exactly who I am and to hold nothing back.
But, as it turns out, I am far more scarred than I gave myself credit for.
They're nasty looking things, my scars. They cover up healed wounds that forever changed me .
Sometimes scars don't seem to represent courage or strength...sometimes they just represent survival...and survival isn't all that pretty most days.
I thought that I was brave for putting myself out in the dating world. I was so very naive. It's what I was called to do. Shouldn't it have been easy?
Was it too soon? Entirely possible...
Did I open up to the wrong men? Most likely...
Did I pretend that the rejections didn't effect me as much as they did? Definitely...
Did I think my worth could be seen and loved by someone again? I did...for a time...I truly did.
You do not know how many people have told me just to be patient, to wait, that it's only been just over a year. That I shouldn't have even started trying yet, let alone be feeling defeated by the dating world.
They're probably all partially correct.
If only I had hid myself away in my grief and pain...
If only I had decided that we only get one chance at real love in a lifetime...
If only I hadn't felt utterly severed from the man I made a life with...
If only I had mourned him like a "normal widow"...
If only I had followed all the unwritten rules laid out for the grievers of the world...
If only...
It would have been so much easier...so much more peaceful...if only I'd given up on love as a lost cause.
I read that cheesy book...and, gut wrenchingly, I thought "my goodness...I don't know if I believe in this anymore".
It felt that like the knife that life had stabbed me in the back with was being twisted. What a harsh future to think about. But who's to say that it won't be mine? Life isn't fair and it certainly doesn't care if you've had your fair share of traumas. It's just broken...and it wreaks havoc on all within its path.
I have spent 9 years preparing for worst case scenarios. Since the very first time that life broke my heart.
My son died and I spent the subsequent years mentally preparing for the worst to happen again. It's actually pretty ironic that I didn't see John's death coming, when you think about it. I was so prepared to never have a child with him again that I forgot to prepare for never having him again.
But, God was unendingly faithful to me in my deep, deep sorrow. And I found myself living again...dreaming again. About happiness...about love.
Some people are worried that I'm just trying to replace John in my life...
Some are worried that I'm trying to avoid the pain that his death brought...
Some are simply not ready for this themselves...
Some think that it's too soon for me to make decisions with a clear mind...
Some think that I simply lucked out when I chose John and that lightning almost never strikes twice...
And maybe I'm starting to believe them...maybe.
It's all possible, don't you see? Maybe I did make all the wrong choices. Maybe I wasn't supposed to try to move on. Maybe you can't choose joy and healing before your time.
Maybe the world has a point. Maybe you don't get second chances.
But...what if you do?
What if there is a chance that someone could truly see me...and choose to love me, just as I am? With all my scars, all my walls, and all my baggage?
What if, despite what some men have told me, I am worth it?
What if someone takes the time to break down the walls I've built out of self-preservation?
What if someone sees more than survival in these scars?
Imagine if they saw strength and beauty in the story my scars tell...
What if someone sees Christ at the center of my whole world and finds that to be worth fighting for?
It feels like such a small chance...doesn't it? But it also feels like something worth hoping for...something worth allowing in.
It's scary to be alone and to have to be brave and do hard things all on my own.
It's scary to believe in second chances and in a man that just might love me for all that I am.
It's scary to think that I might love someone again and realize that there is no guarantee that they won't die too.
Life is simply scary no matter which way you look at it.
Things are usually not so black and white. And I think that, in the end, I am just who I am. I am just where I can allow myself to be. I'm just doing what I can bring myself to be doing.
Which is simply weighing all my options and choosing to live...
Because I chose to believe that life was still worth living...and I just can't stop now.
Because life is still worth living in the darkness...
Because life is still worth living in the light...
Because I simply choose to believe that life is still worth living.... even in the worst case scenarios.
Because Christ's redemption reaches to even those great tragedies.
Please do not ask me to be anyone else but who I am...
Such a high cost was paid for me to be able to become her.
Christ saw every wall and every scar and all my baggage...and He decided that I was still so very worth it…just as I am.
Any man in my life doesn’t have to live up to some standard that they think John set. I’m looking for a man who lovingly seeks the God who broke every chain and set every standard.
I’m nothing without Him…and He is still everything I need. With, or without, anything, or anyone, this world can offer.
...I guess some things are just that black and white after all…
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