Adrift at sea

Adrift at sea
“If you don’t know what you’re doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You’ll get his help, and won’t be condescended to when you ask for it. Ask boldly, believingly, without a second thought. People who ‘worry their prayers’ are wind-whipped waves. Don’t think you’re going to get anything from the Master that way, adrift at sea, keeping all your options open.” James, step-brother of Jesus (James 1:5, The Message)

I was eighteen years old and in love. I had dated other individuals during my high school years but they had all been girls. She was a woman. She moved me – emotionally, mentally and physically. I was, at times, truly love-sick. Until her, my daily life had been pretty regimented: awake early and read before breakfast; school; participate in after-school activities (e.g., cross-country, wrestling or track); dinner; study until 10 p.m. and then to bed by 10:30 p.m. But with her in my life, I began to neglect all of that much to my parents’ and friends’ chagrin. I changed. Previously an A-student, I struggled to make passing grades in all of my classes. Every spare moment I had I spent with her and even went so far as to cut class a time or two just so I could impress her with my pseudo bravado.

Despite the fact that through her father I had come to know and trust in Jesus (a true profession, not one made to simply gain his favor), our relationship was not healthy. And for a new believer, the last thing in my life that I needed at that time was a girlfriend who consumed all of my time and attention. The thing was, my spirit was alive with the Spirit of Jesus within…but my love for her was far greater than my love for Him. In short, I became a man divided – divided in heart and passion and attention. And because I feared losing her approval, I risked losing His. And when I tried to seek His face, I ended up thinking of hers. It wasn’t that we weren’t attending church together – we were. It wasn’t even that we didn’t remain active in our fellowship’s “College and Career” group – we did. We would share moments of spiritual fellowship and often pray together. But the gravitational pull of our carnal natures was slowly pulling us into their orbit. Inside I was a Yo-Yo. Augustine put it much better, “Give me chastity and continence, but not yet.” Resolve after resolve after resolve was uttered, only to crash upon the rocks of lust once again. And then Paul’s words would resound in my heart: “O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?”

My insecurities and immaturity would provoke loathing in her. Her sharp and wounding tongue would only add to her own sense of loathing toward herself as she reduced me to tears. We would break up only to find ourselves back together within a week or two assuring each other that this time things would be different. And they would be for a few days or so and then would come the fall but the remorse and shame would be all the greater. I knew the Spirit of God was asking me to give her up. To my regret, I chose to resist his counsel and continue to ride the illusion that with the passing of time and the exercise of a little more self-control our relationship would finally gain the blessing of God. But that was a mirage of a man who was thoroughly double-minded. Ultimately, she had greater courage than I did and pulled the plug on a relationship that had grown terminal.

Of course, I was devastated. There went “the girl of my dreams.” There went “the love of my life.” There went “my only reason for living.” I feel rather silly to write these things over twenty-five years later, but they are an accurate description of my perspective at the time. I simply had no clue as to how wrong I really was.

So now, all these years later, why dig up the past? Why remember that time at all? I’ll call her Sue. She’s a woman who has been a part of our fellowship for awhile now. She came to us after life had sent her through a meat grinder of broken relationships, betrayal and abuse. Refuge, the fellowship I pastor, is a great place for people like that. It’s not for nothing that one of our unofficial monikers is “the island of misfit toys”. She was embraced. Not by a few but by all. In the world’s eyes she is poor white trash. But to us she is family and belongs.

Sometime in the last month or so, her former lover who abused and mistreated her repeatedly, has crept back into her life. Her loneliness has made her vulnerable to his apparent renewed affection. And now, according to her, he’s “found Jesus.” When she tells me this, everything in my heart screams, “WHAT, ARE YOU THAT STUPID AND BLIND? HOW COULD YOU BELIEVE SUCH MALARKEY?!!!!!!!!!!!” She’s come so far in the past three years and thrived in a community of love, acceptance and forgiveness. But your family can’t hold you in the middle of the night while you lie in bed feeling so alone and distraught. Never mind that this, too, is a mirage that will evaporate all too quickly and be replaced with the ugly reality of a barren wasteland full of “fiery serpents and scorpions.”

I’ve lovingly counseled, admonished and even warned her to no avail. She will return to him – if she has not already. She assures me that she hasn’t and she won’t. She assures me that she will be back with “her family” (as she is wont to call us) next Sunday – as she has promised for several Sundays running. She is, like my former self, thoroughly double-minded and been duped by her soulish self who believes right now that her greatest need is for intimate companionship. It’s a lie. The kind of lie our enemy likes to spin in our hearts, a half-truth that leads us into danger of falling into greater perdition.

I see her behavior and it reminds me of my 19-year-old self who believed the same. How can I despise her? How can I write her off when I have been equally duplicitous in my life at more times than I care to recount? So I pray fervently for her protection – not only from him but also from herself when the shame of her actions comes crashing down on her. And I wait, knowing full well that when she awakens from the stupor she has fallen into we will be busy picking up the pieces.