“We need to talk,” he said.
These words, spoken in a sullen tone, pierced my heart. I held my breath and my insides tightened like a fist.
“Let’s meet tomorrow, he said. “I have to get to work.”
Fear clouded my brain as I watched him drive away in his truck. Once safe in the solitude of my room I threw myself on my bed and let my tears drench my pillow. I pleaded with God to protect me, to hold me, to take the pain away. Not again God, I can’t give my heart away to only have it crushed again into tiny pieces. You just put it back together. It’s not strong yet. If it breaks again I don’t know if it can be fixed.
My cries stopped my one-sided talk with God, and through the tears I was able to listen. In my heart I knew that life involves risk. Love is something we give, and sometimes it is returned and sometime it is taken, the receiver running off with it, never to return. I have heard and read that love is a choice. We can choose to love and choose whom to love, but there are no guarantees. Only God gives those. Only His love is perfect, with the promise to never leave us or forsake us. Sometimes it feels safer to keep our hearts barricaded with past pain. This might protect us from future pain but it also prohibits us from future love.
Through my tears, I heard God speak inside my soul in His quiet, but big voice, “How do you feel when one of your little girls is hurting?”
“Well of course,” I silently answered, “I feel bad. I hurt when she hurts. I love her. I don’t want her to hurt. She is my precious daughter and I want to spare her any pain that I can.”
I felt God respond with, “Well you are my precious daughter and I want to spare you any pain. Put your trust in me. Give me your heart and I will protect it. I don’t want it to be broken either.”
God is love. His love is so much greater than our human limited love. I listened that day. His voice soothed my tears away, and I chose to give God my heart. I finally believed that if He held my heart in His hands then no one else could break it. He wouldn’t allow it. He loves His little girl.
Later that evening, the man in the truck called and said he wanted to see me the next day. My insides were no longer tight as a fist. When we finally met, I asked him what it was he wanted to talk about. “Oh nothing,” he said.
We had a fun date and God’s love held me together. I knew that whether this man took my love and ran or stayed in my life to share the love, it really didn’t matter. I had God’s love, and for the first time, that felt like enough.
“In my anguish I cried to the Lord, and he answered by setting me free. The Lord is with me, I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?” Psalm 118: 5-6