where waves grow sweet

He trains my hands for battle, so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze. Psalms 18:34

As I shared the other day, I’m back on board with the idea of marriage after months of an increasing resolve to fly solo. It seemed that God didn’t fully agree with my thoughts on the subject, and his kind chastening redirected me. Which is fine by me because whatever he calls good spanks whatever I conjure up.

But I hit some bumps. Even though I’ve been single for the past 14 years and know the drill like a memory verse (enjoying the present while hoping for the future, etc., etc.), I just couldn’t force myself back into that mentality. It seemed like the shape of that hole changed from a circle to a square while I was gone, and I just didn’t fit anymore. Which might be because God doesn’t want me settling back into an old place, but moving into a new one he’s carved out.

Today, during prayer with a friend to the almighty creator of the universe, I heard myself declaring in no uncertain terms that I believe God incapable of 1) creating a man who would fit me, 2) connecting me with such a person if he did indeed exist, and 3) overcoming the barriers involved in the development of such a relationship. My friend was pretty much horrified at the strength of my declarations. And I was too. But, ugly as it may be, it was helpful to see what I really believe.

A peek into the medicine cabinet of my soul revealed:

1.  Pride. That I am so unique from the rest of humanity, my heart fits no one on this planet. Gag me.

2. Unbelief. That my problems are bigger or more complex than the power of God, who created this world and everything in it. As if.

3.  Rebellion. That because of God’s inability, I have to take over this mess and manage the situation myself. Oh please.

4.  Fear. That I am incapable of being the sort of person necessary to fill this role. Note to self: it’s about Christ, not you… refer back to number 1.

A situation from a few years back came to mind. I had spent a couple evenings out with a young, attractive friend. When it started feeling like a dating relationship, my insecurities started dancing around like fireflies. On my way to meet him one night, I saw the fear for what it was – a bully that couldn’t stand up to the truth – and turned against it like a crazed warrior. I fought off its onslaught, pierced its heart, and then decapitated the thing… right there in my car on Jamboree. I was free and present with the guy that night. I liked that version of me a lot.

Apparently there’s been some ground lost since that night, but today as I recognized those false things inside me, I could sense that warrior rising back up – getting ready to go on a holy rampage, thrash the lies masquerading as truth, and make my enemy regret the day he messed with me.