God in every portion of my life...

True confessions?

I am addicted to email. I crave comments. I often will come to the computer first in the morning.
I am trying to break that. This morning I read from God Calling, which is a unique devotional. Two women in England worked together to hear God's will and from it came this devotional. From the Introduction, written by Two Listeners (who choose to remain anonymous), "To this day, I cannot get guidance in this way alone. But with my friend a very wonderful thing happened. From the first, beautiful messages were given to her by our Lord Himself, and every day from then, these messages have never failed us."

Now, I have another admission. I thought today was January 29. So I read that passage, where it says "Never fear, whatever may happen. You are both being led. Do not try to plan. I have planned. You are the builder, not the Architect. (it continues on...) All is well."

Then I spent some time in the Psalms and in Acts, then back to Psalms, where I found a post-it I had written myself on December 4th of last year. And since I have a few minutes, I want to share with you something I have seen happen in my life, in hopes that it might help you too.

The post-it urged me to write in my blog about what I call "ex-boyfriend days." I have in my life had at least three of them. Days where I had to face the boogeyman and I felt I couldn't bear it but I did. I have not always been wise in relationships, but I have relied on the little wisdom I could, and guidance from God.

The most vivid time in my remembrance was about this time of year, many years ago. At the time, I worked at Fox Books, and a man I had dated previously came into the store with his father. I was shook up, understandably, because I had no desire for this man to be in my life again. I went back to the break room for my break and a friend and co-worker was eating a piece of banana cream pie. He could see I was shook up and though I don't remember what I told him regarding my being shook up, he offered me a bite of his banana cream pie. I remember that act of kindness more than all the other things this man did before and after to woo me, as we did eventually become a couple, for the course of a year. It was a relationship that taught me many things and broke me, too.

As a result of that break-up (from the man with the banana cream pie) I went into a dark time. It was the spring I was diagnosed with clinical depression. I couldn't eat, sleep, work--because I had wanted for months to break up with this man, as I felt our purposes were opposite. He did not want to be a Christian, nor was he, and that tore me up. But he wouldn't let me break up with him. So we stumbled, for months, and I got worse. Finally, he broke up with me because "I had changed." So in the darkest hour, when I needed someone most, he let me go. I was devastated and angry, because I had been trying to break up with HIM, and now he was claiming what I thought had been rightfully mine, the choice of whether or not to be in this relationship.

The depression turned out to be the beginning of my diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder. My parents took me back to Virginia temporarily and then quasi-permanently. I stayed in Virginia for three years. I know that those years, trying as they were, saved the precarious relationship I had with my parents.

I say it flippantly, because I've passed that, but I had felt in my life that they had abandoned me. This is the phrase I can now say with a smile, jokingly, "When I graduated from high school, I moved to Pittsburgh, and my parents moved to Poland. When I graduated from college, I moved back to Pittsburgh, and my parents moved to Brazil. When I went to graduate school, I moved to Pittsburgh. When I graduated, I wondered if they would move again. Instead, they took me to Canada." I have loved Niagara Falls ever since, though I've only been once. It was the happy ending--I could graduate from somewhere and it didn't mean my parents were going to be in a different time zone, thousands of miles away.

But that is another story. Back to Mr. Banana Cream Pie. Almost three years later, after I had been in Virginia a while, and working happily again at Fox Books, he walked into my store. With his wife. I knew he was married. I saw him and I knew it was him. I could have let him walk away. But I felt that I had to face this fear. He had no way of knowing that I would be there. And I trembled. But I knew that this was a chance for me to show courage.

A friend and co-worker happened to be working the cash registers the day that I saw Ted and his wife. I'd had a crush on him for a long time, and it seemed mutual. I felt that he was safe. His presence, knowing that he might never know his presence gave me courage, gave me courage. I said to W, I need to go say hello to someone. I walked over to the Starbucks where Ted stood in line with his wife. We had often addressed each other by last name when we dated, flippantly, so I addressed him this way. "Mr. Cook?" He was so surprised that he used that voice that he only used when he was very surprised and trying to cover up. It was a fake deep voice. I met his wife, wished them both well, and trembling, went back to the cash registers where W was oblivious. But his presence had given me courage to face my boogeyman. For that I am forever grateful. Months later, we started dating, and it didn't work out, as I moved back to Pittsburgh for grad school. We tried the long distance thing, but the truth was I wanted him to be a Christian and he wanted me to live in Virginia.

I haven't dated since. I haven't met anyone who was willing to risk. Who made me laugh. Who, yes, shared my faith, as I did become convicted that that was a clear need in someone I date.

Relationships are hard. They hurt. People are not perfect. I have often idealized my "Prince Charming" only to realize he had feet of clay. But I want him, clay feet and all. Because I know that two are better than one. And that a cord of three strands (an analogy often used in weddings, to signify the couple's relationship with God as the third cord) is strongest.

As I come into this next February of my life, I wonder at the risks I might take. Are they worth it? And are they MY plan, or my Architect's?

I know only this: All is well. All shall be well. All manner of things shall be well, no matter what. My creator said so.