Dating {Part II}

Let's just call this Part II of my rambling series on dating, of which I know nothing about. Thanks for coming along!

Before I went on my a fore mentioned first ever first date...you know the blind date of all types...I spent a lot of time rediscovering who I am. I thought I had me figured out but my vision came crashing down not once but twice. Where I thought my life was headed, what I dreamed to be my future, and my image of being a wife and raising my daughter were stripped from my core. 

Who was I when suddenly my last name was a remnant of a former life, when my in-laws were no longer legally such, and when my home was occupied by only me? What did I believe? What were my passions and my dreams? What was my reality? 

Suddenly, I had no idea who I was anymore. 

So, Year 28 became my year to rediscover who I am. To reconnect with friends, explore hobbies, to soul search, to refuel my spirit, to prove to myself that I could still stand, and to began to mend the pieces from the shattering of my world.

Before ever bringing someone in, I want to be certain of who I am. So, when "dating' went from being 'in the future' to 'Thursday night,' {after nearly having a panic attack}, I got out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote out my standards. Pillars of sorts that when pondering a future husband were nonnegotiable. They stem from who I have become and perhaps things that looking back just didn't work in my marriage. 

Maybe they are obvious but friends, this dating thing is seriously foreign to me so it made perfect sense to my Type A self to have a list to help guide my heart. They are things like ambition and dreams and a desire to raise and be surrounded by family. There are shared interest and shared core values. But of those, at very top is a shared passion for a shared faith.

When I was 16, we shared a fervor for Jesus but over the course of the 12 years, our beliefs in creation diverged. I never stopped believing but having different beliefs, I didn't pursue Jesus. I prayed and went to church on holidays or when visiting family but I had no church to call home and no community in which I was fostered. I never stopped believing, I simply stopped growing. I had become complacent with life as I knew it and quite content waking up on Sunday mornings with the only thing on the agenda being the sous-chef in the construction of breakfast.

When I began working in my current job, I quickly befriended the only nurse that was around my age. If I can be totally honest, sometimes I rolled my eyes at her passionate pursuit to live a Godly life. While I had become content, she was anything but. When my perfectly planned pregnancy began to be filled with hard choices and uncertainty, she began praying with all her heart. There were cards and notes left on my desk, in my work bag, and in my drawer. There were texts and emails with scripture, encouraging words, and reminders that she and her people were praying for me and my Addy daily. She sent me sermons, songs, and books that she thought might encourage me. When I returned to work after my leave of absence, she had a way of reading my mood as I walked through the door, could anticipate triggers before I had to face them, and has a memory that includes the date of every one of my milestones. And there were Reece's, lot and lots of Reece's. She exemplified the love of Jesus to me consistently for two of the most difficult years in my life. And never out of pride, never being overbearing. She simple lived what she so deeply believed.

She sent me the link to the song "Worn" but Tenth Avenue North and told me to listen when I was ready. I filed it under 'someday' and then forgot about it until I was driving to work one day. It was October and I was consumed with how I was going to overcome the grief of Addy's passing and the devastating end of the marriage. How was I going to pick up the pieces, how was I going to mend my heart, how was I ever going to feel whole? As I listened to the words of the song, I wept. Big, ugly tears streamed down my face. I will never forget that moment.

Let me see redemption win
Let me know the struggle ends
That you can mend a heart
That’s frail and torn
I wanna know a song can rise
From the ashes of a broken life
And all that’s dead inside can be reborn
Cause I’m worn

I know I need to lift my eyes up
But I'm too weak
Life just won’t let up
And I know that you can give me rest
So I cry out with all that I have left

 

 

It was one of the two most defining moments of healing for me. Hearing the words brought this overwhelming sense of relief. I had long tried to understand how I was going to overcome all the hurt, sadness, grief, and devastation. In the course of that very song, relief came as I realized that healing was never going to be through me. So I cried out with all that I had left and asked Jesus to begin to heal me in ways that I couldn't heal myself. I cried for rest and a song risen from the ashes of my broken life. It was in that moment, that for the first time since Addy's passing in March, that knew that I was going to be okay. Someday I would be okay.

Since, I have been pursuing my relationship with our gracious God and there is peace within me that I didn't know could or perhaps would ever come. And though I still have hard days and days of hurt, sadness, or even some of anger, good has come. 

So at the very top of my 'future spouse non-negotiable standards' is a shared passion for a shared faith. A shared love and desire to pursue a God who redeems.