The Story of Us, Part II
I was in desperate need of a vacation. The hospital emergency center where I was employed as a Child Life Specialist for over two years had suddenly become the only pediatric level one trauma center in southeast Texas. Each day I prepared for work apprehensively, wondering what tragedy awaited me, what family would I find myself supporting through the most difficult moment of their lives? I was called to the job. But I needed time to breathe. I was emotionally raw and weary.
I had been wrestling with the Lord as well. For nearly three months He and I went back and forth over the reality of my own singleness. For years I had wondered if this was indeed His plan for me. I hated it and had run from the very idea of celibacy. If God had called me to this thing, why was the desire for a marriage partnership so strong? Nevertheless, the still, small voice beckoned… it questioned. “Would you be satisfied if all you had was Me? Would I be enough?” my Lord asked. I read Paul. I knew as a single woman it would be easier to “secure undistracted devotion to the Lord.” For the first time in my life I allowed myself to imagine a full life unmarried.
After weeks of processing, my answer to my Lord’s question was “yes.” I let the vision die. I buried the hope. For years I had committed myself to waiting for the one chosen for me by the Lord, the one with whom I could serve, the one with whom my spirit and soul would find companionship. I had waited; he was not on my radar. If indeed this man existed for me, where was he, what was taking so long? I had been praying for him for thirteen years. I had been waiting. And I gave him up, not knowing if he ever would be returned. Like Jacob, I too had struggled with the Lord. And I knew, either way, He would bless me. My vow was this: I would not marry unless the two of us together could do more for the Kingdom than we could apart. I braced myself for the reactions of those I loved, those who had hoped for my husband with me for years. I shared the news with apprehensive joy. This was my choice. The struggle was complete. My heart was free and at peace.
Within the month I would be heading to Europe to visit my friends. I needed to talk some of these things out. I needed to rest from my work at the hospital. I needed quiet. From the moment I stepped onto the plane headed for Zurich I knew I would encounter the Lord. I knew there was something He had for me. I expected the trip would be laced with divine appointments. It had been. The country was beautiful, the German food excellent, the time with my friends refreshing and encouraging.
As it drew to a close, there was one last stop in Austria, visiting a man my friends and I had known in college. They knew him much better than I did. I had known his sister at university. He lived and studied at a castle in the Alps. This was what I knew of Jonathan. As our train neared the station in Kufstein, my friends and I shared memories of him in university. I could hardly recall what he looked like. My only real memory was not even my own. My father had met him once at a meeting nine years before. Upon returning he asked, “What about Jonathan?” Hmm. I knew too little to answer. That was a long time ago. But I wondered as the train pulled into the station, what it was about Jonathan that caught the attention of my very discerning father?
< Read Part I
To be continued...
1 comment:
"The Story of Us" is fascinating, well written, and a very important witness. I am going to share it with a friend of mine who has been waiting on the Lord many years for his future spouse. I am particularly moved by the line, "My vow was this: I would not marry unless the two of us together could do more for the Kingdom than we could apart." My friend needs to hear this line. I also wanted to let you know that your wedding photos are beautiful and I could sense the presence of the Lord in them. I got married at 22 (my husband was 21). I was an atheist (Jewish background) and, though he was saved at 14, my husband no longer walked closely with the Lord due to the death of his father. Perhaps, some day, I'll share with you the story of how I came to believe that God was real. The changes in me were so profound that my husband recommitted his life. Now we serve God together.
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