Beloved

I’m a firm believer in the “multiple intelligences theory.” For those of you who might not know, that means that I think there are a lot of different ways to be smart. For example, my sister, Hannah, is absolutely brilliant in ways I can’t even begin to think about without getting a headache (math, science, big technical words and numbers in general, etc.) I have little knowledge in these areas, and even less motivation to learn any of it. However, I am people-smart. I usually understand how people think, and how they feel, particularly myself. Introspection: check. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to figure myself out. This comes with some huge benefits, like the fact that my inner moral compass is pretty darn solid. I am almost always aware of when I’m doing right or wrong. Unfortunately, this doesn’t keep me from ever doing wrong. I’m working on that part.

Anyways. With all of my thinking, I’ve spent a decent amount of time contemplating my own heart. I’ve learned a lot about my desires, passions, fears, and much more besides. It’s been quite a journey. I’m grateful for the good and the bad, because this process of coming to understand myself has also helped me understand others much better, and to help them understand themselves. It’s a good time.

The thing is, lately I’ve been coming to realize how unsatisfied I have been in this whole journey. Yes, I’ve learned a  lot about myself, and yes I have processed almost nineteen years of life (my fair share of tragedy and more joys than I deserve.) However, despite the closure that I have come to find, I have not been satisfied.

See, the thing is, it is not ABOUT my heart. My heart is a beautiful thing, but it is NOT the point. The point is His Heart. That Sacred Heart that captured mine so long ago, and has stayed with me this whole time. Yes, He was with me in my pains and by my side through this journey to understanding. I have believed that with every fiber of my being since eighth grade. That fact alone kept my head above the water through a lot of storms. However, I’ve still struggled, long and hard, with the feeling that I’m just not getting it right. This may sound like something that should be easy to brush aside… “If you’re giving it your best, that’s all you can do. Just let go. He loves you.” and similar comments come to mind. Believe me, I said them to myself a bajillion times. However, with my inner “This isn’t quite right.” radar going off, it was impossible to move on. So I’ve been spending a lot of time sitting with Him in the quiet and letting Him explain me to myself. Here’s what I’ve come up with. It’s all so simple that I almost feel silly. Whatever. It’s my blog. Let the silliness commence…

It’s not about my heart. (I said that already.)

It’s about His. (I said that too.)

Let’s break that down.

He loves me. Radically. Because of this, He hates to see me suffer.

I’m assuming you’re all still with me.

Therefore, it is His desire to heal my heart.

Right? Right.

So, I should seek that healing.

Right? Sounds good…

Here’s why I was not satisfied:

I was spending a lot of time trying to “deal” with my issues.

I was staring at my pain and begging Him to heal it.
I’ve been staring at my desires and asking Him to fulfill them.
I’ve stared at my questions and begged for answers.
I could go on.

So, my little brother, Judah, is two. He is basically a genius.
(This isn’t a tangent, stay with me.)
A few months ago, he started to ask “Why?”
At first it was really cute. Ok, I’ll be honest, it’s still really cute a lot of the time. However, sometimes…
Marriana: “Judah, you may not poop on the stairs.”
Judah: “Why?”
Marriana’s Mind: “Seriously, dude?!?!”
Marriana (out loud): “Because it’s really gross.”
Judah: “Why?”
Marriana: “Just trust me on this one, buddy.”

That’s just a comical example (and actually a combination of several potty training stories). I have four siblings under the age of fifteen, and all are really, really big on “Why?” When I was little, I swore I would never say “Because I said so...” when I got older, but I find myself saying it frequently. It just doesn’t make sense to have to give a detailed explanation for why my plan for them is sometimes better than their own. It just is.

Oh… I get it.

He doesn’t have to explain Himself to me. His plan is just better. I need to stop asking “Why?” and just trust Him. Yes, ultimately He could give me a great reason for why it’s not ok for me to poop on the stairs (AKA why my life doesn’t always go exactly how I want it to when I want it to.) In fact, if I sit there with the nonsense long enough and keep whining, He will probably end up explaining it to me eventually. The thing is, it is much more time-consuming than if I just stopped asking.

Trust. I need to stop staring at my heart. Yes, it is wild and complex and my pains are legitimate and my desires are understandable and my questions are valid, and the whole thing is one crazy, beautiful mess that He is shaping. However, I am not in love with my heart. It won’t satisfy me, even if I ever actually come to understand the thing. I need to keep my heart where It’s supposed to be. In Him. My heart belongs to Him.

And you know what? His belongs to me. He has given me His heart. I wonder how much time He spends wondering why I ignore His heart while trying to puzzle out my own. 

We were made for romance, and that is something that requires active participation. We have to allow ourselves to be romanced by Him. As a woman, one of the biggest ways I love others is by actively allowing them to love me, by participating in love with them. We have to spend time actively choosing to sit with Him, listening and receiving His love, seeking it in the world and people we are with, allowing it to foster a deeper love for Him within us. This requires concentration. We have to keep our eyes on Him.

The only time I am ever satisfied is when I take the time to receive His love. It’s how I romance Him - by allowing Him to romance me. I am overwhelmed by my love for Him when I allow Him to captivate me with His love. Everything else fades away. It is only me and my Beloved, and suddenly I understand how the Song of Songs and the Psalms came to be written.

Imagine this.
You happen to see a couple sitting together. They’re a cute couple, and something in you tells you that they belong together. That “Yep. That’s gonna last.” sorta feeling. How can you tell? The way He looks at her. He can’t stop. It is clear that He sees nothing else, hears nothing else. Nothing else exists. He just stares. He can’t help it. It’s like He’s trying to memorize her. He is totally, completely, passionately in love. He wants her. He needs her. Not because he literally couldn’t exist without her, but because He is so in love He would rather die than be apart from her.

Yeah. There isn’t a woman in the world who doesn’t want that kind of love.

Now, think about how weird it would be if she turned her back to him and whipped out a mirror? What if she sat there, with her back to Him, staring in that mirror, hoping to catch a glimpse of His love and His plan for leadership over her shoulder? Yes, they would still be together. He loves her way too much to ever leave, even for an instant. In fact, sometimes He will go way out of His way to catch her attention, but if she keeps choosing the mirror, what is He to do? He waits for her, patiently. He loves her, passionately. He sits there, everything she could ever imagine desiring and more, while she searches for her answers. Yes, she catches glimpses of Him, and those tiny glimpses fill her with indescribable joy. Still, it is nothing, nothing at all, in comparison to what she could have if she threw away the mirror and looked into His eyes. If she lived like nothing else existed. If she actively participated in His love.

I will seek Him whom my soul loves...
When I found Him whom my soul loves,
I held Him and would not let Him go.
This is my Beloved and this is my Friend.
I am my Beloved’s and His desire is for me.
I am sick with love.
Come, my Beloved.
I will give you my love.

Song of Songs