Why do I keep longing for the tangible when I have the transformative? Why do I want a person who doesn’t want me instead of the One who chose me before the beginning of time? Why is it so hard to surrender this love I have when the One who loves me the most surrendered because of his love? I keep trying to savor the suffering and allow its pain to refine what is needed in my life. However, it usually just feels like I am bleeding out and at some point, I will run out of blood.
This separation from the one I love has allowed me to feel a fraction of the pain the Father feels when we reject him. Nothing feels right. Nothing feels settled or finished. I feel wrong. Like something is off with me. I feel incomplete which feels crazy to me because I know a person cannot complete me. I feel like a piece of me is missing. A hole that will never quite be filled; a scar that will always remain from the shoddy patchwork I have tried to label healing. I envy those who were able to let go of love. I wish I knew the secret or I could find the switch to turn it off. Instead, it’s like a fire I keep trying to put out, but the embers are always there simmering, begging for oxygen to ignite into the bold flame it once was in all its glory.
I don’t think there is a lonelier place than that of unreciprocated love. It’s pure abandonment as the one you love was able to put out those embers in their own heart and move on without you. It’s an oscillation between leaning into the pain out of desperation to validate the love and internally screaming to yourself in embarrassment to let go and move on. Even telling yourself he has probably moved on and doesn’t love you anymore won’t distinguish the flame. Am I bound to be stuck with this forever? Will the pain of this love never go away? I wish it had some conditions, but unfortunately, this is the unconditional kind of love. The heart that remains broken no matter how many times you have glued the pieces back together.
It’s the painful reality that you know Someone who specializes in restoration and redemption and yet you can see neither of these happening in the relationship you want to resurrect. For the millionth time, you bring your broken heart, begging for Jesus to fix it, knowing that because of its fragile state, you will need to come back tomorrow for another fix.
And then there’s the guilt that in this ocean of love and pain that you’re swimming in, there are others that should have your undivided attention. Those that have heard the word “cancer” and are reeling with the diagnosis. Your mom. Your best friend. And you can’t even begin to face that pain alone because that will for sure end in drowning.
So, Jesus, I don’t end this on a high note. I know the truth and I believe it will set me free. I cling to it, knowing that it will hold onto me. But, for now, I come fully broken. I’m sorry that’s the best I have for you right now. Maybe someday you won’t have to constantly put me back together again. Someday, but not today.
My Mind Vortex 