When Love Fails…

If the universe handed out prizes for worst-handler-of-stress-and-homework-and-jerks-and-sleepless nights-and-society, I think I win a gold medal for my performance this past week. Every single possible thing that could have gone wrong did, and every single possible thing that I thought I had in my corner to stand upon was ripped out from under my feet, leaving me lying flat on my face in a mix of desperation, anxiety, and relief. In all honesty, a part of me just has to burst out laughing because I couldn’t have planned a worst set of seven days if I had tried. A part of me’s relieved it’s a brand new week, and yet another part of me is glad I had this week, because it’s something to look back on and be proud of. Not my endless stream of tears or my not-so-great Calc grade or my explosive argument with my dad at my high school field in front of the entire football team (although, I will say, I gave them quite a performance to break up their eight in the morning practice), but my willingness to take one more step forward, my grit to power through one more quiz, my strength to look in the mirror, realize I wasn’t at my best but made the choice to not let my yesterday’s bleed into my today’s. Yet that is much easier said than done and is something I still struggle with to this day as I continue to learn to trust myself and grow in my relationship with Christ. However, I think a key factor that many of us miss when we face winters in life is which fire we choose to huddle beside, which stew we sip to fill our bellies, which shelter we run under to protect us from the elements.

This post is inspired by President of Proverbs 31 Ministries Lysa TerKeurst’s “Finding I AM” Bible Study, which I just finished this week, and if you’re feeling like you need a double tall cold brew of divine wisdom, I highly recommend you invest in such a spiritually rewarding book. TerKeurst walks us through each of Jesus’ seven “I AM” statements, from His first declaration that He is David’s heir through the “Bread of Life” to His encouragement to Martha before He raises her brother from the dead that He is the “Resurrection” and the “Life.” Christ’s final statement in this study comes from John 15:1-5:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit He prunes, so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”

As my cousin, Dani, recently reminded me, Christians are often great at sharing the burdens of others, yet when it comes to our own burdens, we’re all selfish, secretive, and seclusive, hiding behind veils that conceal our trials until they’ve become testimonies of God’s goodness and healing powers. However, James 1:17 reminds us that our God is a God of “heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.” In His own words, He is the “Light of the World,” and light does not shame the defeated nor hide the wounds of the oppressed nor judge the sinner caught in its gaze. Light uncovers the hidden beauty, warms the exposed, and guides the lost home. We cannot find our way back to His arms if we are constantly hiding our brokenness; we cannot begin the tedious road to recovery if we are repeatedly denying that we are hurt.

Now, while I believe that we are all blessed with a tribe of supporting, loving human beings who are meant to walk this life alongside us, lead us along uncharted territory, and rejoice with us in our hours of triumph, I also believe that we must be cautious of whom is the one we run to first. In the passage above, Jesus makes it absolutely clear that He is the only One we can depend on in all seasons, cold and bleak, in all hours of the night, in all valleys of the shadows. If we turn to others when we, first, should seek Adonai, our leaves will start to wither, since we are no longer tethered to the only vine that provides the nutrients we need and yearn for more than the breath we breathe. Jesus isn’t trying to cut us off from the outside world; He’s trying to save us from the sting that’s sure to come if we search for satisfaction in anything but Him.

After continuing to press and press on as the week continued going farther and farther south, an avalanche of sharp slaps in the face, calloused daggers to the heart, and insensitive stings to the soul on Friday left my spirit down in the dumps. Upon returning home from school, I called my best friend and in-between tears begged her to come over and sit with me. Quick as a flash, she pulled me into her arms as we stumbled towards my patio, my sobs scaring away the butterflies on the nearby roses. She let me blow out all my steam, all my grievances, all my frustrations. Yet after all the toxins ran their course, I heard this voice in my head, whispering all the things I needed to hear, longed to hear, but when I asked her those questions, she didn’t have all the answers, the longings that I knew would quench my soul. And how could she? She knows major parts of my story, but she hasn’t read the whole book, nobody has. Except my Savior. The only One who knows my beginning and my end, the only One whose caught every tear, the only One whose heard every inaudible prayer, the only One whose seen every ugly thing I’ve ever done and had the courage to say, “There’s still good here; I can make something out of your ashes, if you let me.” If we let Him.

No matter how loyal the friend, how supportive the parent, how compassionate the mentor, humans’ love will always let us down because we are human. Our humanity taints love’s perfectness through our ignorance, our ego, and our recklessness. It’s not that we aren’t trying or that we want to hurt our tribe members more than help; it’s that we cannot and never will be one another’s whole Vine and Gardner. That’s Christ’s job. And through His sacrifice, He has endowed us with His Counselor, the Holy Spirit, to guide us, advocate for us, and champion us through this chaotic life as a constant companion that sees all of us yet never pulls away. I’ll end this article with a quote by Lysa TerKeurst that beautifully encompasses the purpose of God’s Ghost within our messy souls:

“Love isn’t what I have the opportunity to get from this world. Love is what I have the opportunity to give.”

And we have the extraordinary opportunity to give that love to ourselves through self-compassion, self-awareness, and self-comfort. The world can bring us to our knees in a moment’s notice, but we can remind ourselves that we are worth the struggle, hug ourselves under the feathers of the Almighty Wings, and run to the safety of our Refuge. We were made to give not just one another love, but ourselves, as well. After all, when Jesus said, “Love thy neighbor as thyself,” He didn’t just mean the first part.