Genuinely, Deeply
A Love Story
There’s something beautifully potent in the letting go of self-focused desires and transforming and conforming them to Godly, selfless desires. It’s also one of the hardest things you can do.
I used to think if the desires I once had were never fulfilled that they were selfish desires, maybe even wrong desires, because they were not granted to me.
This was the picture I had in my head:
Jesus and I are walking on a dirt path carved through a wood. (That’s how I always see my walk with God.) There’s a beautiful mountain clothed wilderness in the distance ahead and we’re underneath a canopy of trees. To our left and our right is the dense forest, and often times in our walk there will be smaller, less paved paths leading out into the darkness of that density. Me in my wandering mind, I often take my sights and my thoughts off of Jesus and where he is taking me, and grow curious of the alternate paths leading into the darkness. I will sometimes pause our movement so that I can go explore that other path. I used to think that Jesus would watch me from that main path and wait to pull me back onto it after I had seen my fair share of what he doesn’t want for me. Like the sheep in the shepherd’s crook.
Surprisingly, only recently, I changed this picture that I had always imagined.
He doesn’t stay on the path where the light is while I run to the darkness. No, he walks with me wherever I go. He will push away the branches before my eyes, dip under the trees, jump over rocks with me in my wandering. He will be my brightness. He will be the light in the choices I make to show me things I need to know. And these wandering paths were never not what he intended. To acknowledge his omniscience and sovereignty means that he knows every step I’m going to take before I take it, and allows me to go forward in it. So he’ll show me what bitterness looks like, he’ll show me what heartbreak looks like, he’ll show me what grief looks like, he’ll show me what joy looks like and love. He’ll show me abundant love.
But he still protects me. He is still my shepherd. He will still yank me backwards because he loves me very, very much. Like, “Whoa, whoa there child. Too far. Too far.”
And though I take paths other than the nicely paved one I always pictured, each wandering marks another milestone in my journey; a journey that has been set out before me. Every stumble I take, every puddle I step in, every thorn that scratches my cheek will teach me how to dodge the next one. And he’s standing next to me pressing me on. He will still lead me where I need to go because he knows this wilderness well.
All this is to say that I see my choices differently these days. Whatever choice I end up making does not mean I will be abandoned. “Either way, I’m with you,” he says to me. I will still sin and I will still make mistakes, but his presence does not leave me because I am redeemed by grace and mercy and love. Such love. And so I am comforted.
//
Everyone everywhere has desires. And there are some desires that can be truly, downright selfish. Others can be partially self-focused. Others can be, well, others focused.
The heart is a very powerful thing. I don’t know if I’ll ever quite understand my own. It does what it wants sometimes without my permission. It can be very frustrating.
I think I fall in love with a lot of people. And I don’t mean romantic love, though that can certainly happen. I fall in love with men and women alike in the most platonic, yet passionate way. I think in my life there has been a pattern of me loving people very deeply. Sometimes those people love me back very well. Other times they hurt me very much, because I expect things from them what they never guaranteed to me. I guess I just hurt myself.
But more recently the lines between romantic and genuine, deep love crossed at some point. And that was kind of my worst nightmare. To love someone so deeply in such a short amount of time, and have really confusing feelings amidst it all is kind of hard to deal with. It makes any sort of risk in friendship that much scarier.
And so, of course, I didn’t want feelings. At all. I didn’t want any sort of love at all if that meant that I would not have any love in return. Which was what was happening. I was not being loved equally. I was being loved hardly at all, as far as I sensed and understood. Though, it very well could’ve just been an expression of love that I’m not used to. I digress.
It would be so much easier for me not to feel anything. I prayed very fervently for that; for a sort of simpler love to arise so that I might be at rest. To become acquaintances with mutual respect. That sounded nice.
So I continued to pray for either a change in him or a change in me. I just needed to be rid of this weighty fullness of love I had. Where I held his soul, broken as it was, and loved it still. Where I saw his passion and kindness and wanted it still, but couldn’t stand it if it meant I would be left alone with it. Honestly, I wanted to be loved back in the way that I so fully loved, but was not receiving maybe even an inch of that. Who wants that? Nobody wants that.
I even came to the conclusion that I just wanted clarity. Recognizing my depth of love made me truly feel that I just wanted answers. I just wanted to be either great friends, loving each other as a brother and sister with openness and honesty, or great lovers, loving in a limitlessly divine way. But I was stuck in an uncomfortable place where neither was being realized.
I grew angry with God as time went on. Why hadn’t he moved my heart out of that place? “Nothing is happening, why am I here?” Trust me, I tried very hard on my own. It wasn’t working. And he had done it before, in a slow process. He took me out of love, to a degree, and fixed my eyes elsewhere. But he wasn’t letting me let it go. He kept it in me and roots grew deeper still.
“Maybe I’m a little insane. Maybe this would scare the crap out of him if he knew. Maybe I’m silly and ridiculous. Maybe I’m simply not worthy.”
These were the fears that I held during this time because of my lack of self-confidence, because of my fear of love, because of my misunderstanding of love. These were selfish fears. I wasn’t seeing love as it should be seen.
Now I am writing this very vulnerably because my feelings have not subsided, and I’ve discovered that maybe they never will. But, there has been a mighty change within me that I’m still sort of working through that I want to share.
So back to my frustration. I suppose I am a very impatient being. I want answers right away before I actually take the steps necessary to learn them. I want the solution before solving the problem. I want to look in the back of the book for the answer so I can just move on.
Well, God wants me to actually learn.
I return to my picture. Say God is leading me to a river. I am exhausted; I just want to get there. I want to take the shortcut, he wants to take the scenic route. Not to torture me, but to show me what beauties lie on the long way to satisfaction. And to pick up some tools along the way to make drinking that water much easier. Tools that would not be found on the short path.
I have yet to reach the river, but I understand now why God is taking me on this road instead of another, easier road.
I don’t think I have all the answers, but I have some that have changed my perspective.
I don’t think I have all the answers, but I have some that have changed my perspective.
One of the days while talking with the Lord, instead of asking to have my feelings taken away, I asked why they were there. I thought through this long and hard, waiting for an answer.
Then I simply thought of him, the one whom my soul loved. (No, he’s not my husband, of course, but I’m being honest here. My soul loved and loves him very much. We don’t have to get married for that to be real. I told you I love deeply.) I realized in my rumination that I was being very selfish; I recognized how much he needed love. How circumstances in his life and trials that he had gone through made him cold to himself. He felt undeserving of love. He felt not worthy to be known.
He needed to feel love. He needed to feel known. And I was concerned about my own self and my own lacking.
And I received my answer:
“Love him like I love him, and that means relentlessly.”
There it clicked for me. I saw why God did not let me give up on him. Because God wasn’t giving up on him. He was using me and so many others in his life to call him back because he wants him so bad. God wants to cradle him in his arms and tell him he’s loved. So very loved.
And loving him relentlessly meant for me, that no matter what, I was supposed to love him. Plain and simple. That was my calling for this season. Whether he loved me back or not, I was supposed to love him and try to love him as best I could. And pursue it. Pursue loving him in a very Godly way. Rather than wanting things for myself from him, I was just supposed to give love and pour it out, being sustained by God in me. My desire was now fully for his good and not my own.
And even if I feel hurt. Even if I would hope my soul could be loved like that. Even if my heart falls weak again, exhausted, I am still called to love: genuinely, deeply, relentlessly.
I talked with God further through this. I spoke with him honestly about what I wanted, about how I felt, about my struggles, about how this man pushes me away. What do I do? How do I love when I’m not wanted? I asked for something, anything to go off of.
And this God said to me:
“Intercede for him.”
Our great intercessor wanted me to intercede on his behalf. And so, though he runs away, I can still love him very well. I can pray for him specifically, with a heart that wants only good for him, joy for him, peace for him.
So, he’ll live his life. Give time to whom he wants to give time. Loving who he wants to love. But, no matter what, I’ll keep loving him and keep praying for him. I am his friend and that’s all I’ll be for now, maybe forever. And that’s okay for me. I am still Beloved. I am still called to love all people, especially him right now. I still have joy and peace. I am still whole.
Now, clearly, a lot goes on behind closed doors for me. On the outside, no one would really ever know this is all going on within me. And if he specifically were to read this, he’d probably freak out. I wouldn’t be surprised. If one of my close guy friends suddenly confessed a deep love for me like this, I’d be like WHOA WHAT. But, I’m not crazy. I’m human. And I’m a human with a very large capacity to love and I’m not mad about that. It draws me nearer to the character of God.
And one last thing before I go that I think is one of the other important things God showed me during this very trying season:
God loves every person on this earth. He loves them more than we can comprehend. The unfortunate part of it is that most of these people don’t love him back. Most of them choose to not love him, choose to slander him, choose to mock him, choose to steer others away from him. Not that this is true for me, but because of my unrequited love now and in the past, I see more acutely the pain God must feel when his children turn away from him. He wants people to love him back and he’s the only one who truly deserves it more than any other being. And yet, it remains unrequited. Not that he needs anyone to love him, self-sustaining as he is and full of love and joy apart from anything. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t desire our love. And that doesn’t mean he doesn’t stop loving us. He will always love us genuinely, deeply, relentlessly.
So I press on, still learning, still seeking, still hoping, and still truly loving with a love like Christ’s. How could I be disheartened? I have learned so much and have felt so deeply. I am clearly being molded by His sovereign, holy, loving hand. Praises be for that. I journey on.
And you too. Press on, Saints,
Olivia
“So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three;
but the greatest of these is love.”
1 Cor. 13:13
