What is "safe" anyway?

There’s a song I like called, “Just Breathe,” by Anna Nalick.  The lyrics go:  “And I feel like I'm naked in front of the crowd, 'Cause these words are my diary, screaming out loud, And I know that you'll use them however you want to.”  Be gentle, Crowd. 

Generally, I think my life is very good and highly blessed.  I can tick off the wonderful things in my life with ease.  My daughters and grandchildren, my huge family: my father, my siblings, and more nieces, nephews and cousins than you can fit on a ship.  I have a wonderful church family I am so blessed to be part of.  I have such good friends that I could sleep on couches around the world.  I’m blessed by my cats and dogs, especially Bear and Miss Match.   I own my own home, and I am actually making progress into making it feel like mine.  I have two closets full of clothes, a kitchen full of food, and the means to keep the lights on.  I could go on and on and on, because honestly, my life is really good, and I can openly acknowledge that. 

Miss Match

Still, there is always this thing inside of me.  This sliver of pain of something missing; an incompleteness.  When I first lost Storm, I just knew that no one could ever compare to him, and that I didn’t ever want to marry again.  I was quite contented in my aloneness, and ready to focus on my life and my children.  I was appreciative that other widows and other people in general didn’t tsk-tsk that idea, though a few have said I was “such a young widow” and that I “can’t possibly mean that.” 

But maybe I did.  Maybe I do.  Maybe I don’t.  I just don’t know.  Inside of me just lately is this constant pull and give struggle.  It’s a circular argument that I can’t win.  There’s a genetic imperative to pair up; to be 1 of 2, and a Biblical ideal which struggles against my own desire to keep myself “safe” from future hurt, and to avoid opening my life to someone new; to begin again.  

The Bible says that man and woman were created to “cleave” together and become one.  There’s an ideal there that these two people who were whole people on their own can come together and be more together.  I never understood that until Storm.  All of my relationships prior, save one, I didn’t feel that oneness; that sameness.  The one other time I did experience it in my younger years, I really didn’t appreciate it for what it was, and I wasn’t able to put my commitment into that relationship.  With Storm, it was like we were the wind in the sail, pushing the same boat, or two parts of the same engine.  The two of us together were more than we could have ever been separate, and both of us knew that was true.

I believe that man and woman were meant to come together, and that through that union fruit will come forth.  As a widow, I constantly miss the little things about being married.  I can’t say that I didn’t appreciate them when I had them.  We actively tried to speak these things into our lives. One thing that characterized our relationship is that we never got tired of reminding ourselves how fortunate we were to have the other person in our lives.  I feel like that kind of fruit is now missing from my life.  Like a rose that never buds. 

I have often said I only ever feel like myself when I am in the company of my daughters.  That is still true.  I can also say that I have never felt like the confident, capable, and sexy woman that I have become until Storm and I cleaved together and became one.  I thought; if this amazing man loves me in the incredible ways he loves me, there MUST be something worthwhile in there.  It seemed like the least that I could do was try to live up to it and be the woman he believed I could be.  One day, I woke up, and realized that I was actually becoming that woman, and I was somewhat shocked to realize that I always had been that woman, and that only my husband could see it and bring it out in me. 

Now that he’s not with me, I feel like less of myself.  I miss his guiding hand at my back, his soft murmur in my ear to tell me something useful, or to tell me how sexy I looked that day, and how every man in the room was jealous that he was going home with me.  And I miss serving him.  I miss finding reasons for him to laugh, because he expressed joy so rarely.  I delighted in baking for him, because he loved fresh bread and muffins.  I miss asking him questions just so that I could listen to his voice.  I miss helping him with a thousand projects, because he valued my critical questions and annoying nerdy logic.  I miss all the little intimacies of being married, and I miss being an honored wife.   I want that back.

But I’m not sure that all this angst translates into action.  In fact, even when I seem to be trying to move forward, maybe consider relationship with any kind of seriousness, I pretty much find myself backpedaling.  I know I’m not supposed to fear.  Yeshua tells us over and over not to worry.  The Bible says “be not afraid” many, many times.  Yet, even when the one person whom I would most like to notice me happens to notice me, I am paralyzed with fear.  It doesn’t help that he seems to feel the same way, and every time I get a little close, he pushes me away.  I wonder, though, if we aren’t the key to one anothers healing, and if we could just get past all of the stuff, we could find ourselves being better together than we are apart.  Probably that is just wishful thinking.

My few forays into dating itself have been less than fruitful.   I have gleaned from them one really good friendship, one shiny new stalker, and a newly created Tinder account that makes me feel vaguely dirty, and for some reason, a little guilty.  Generally, I would say that the single men I know are either too intimidated to ask me out, which suits me fine, or they are not interested, which probably still suits me fine.  Either way, I am sure that I am choosing to spend time with men that are, in one way or another, “safe” to my heart, while avoiding getting to close to the one(s) which might actually touch deeper than the surface.  

So why the quandry?  Stay unmarried.  Simple enough.  Right?  Except, I don’t know if that’s just fear talking.  I don’t want to make any choices from a place of fear.  I hope I have learned to stay humble enough to be wrong; so what if I’m wrong?  Also, what if I miss a big blessing, another opportunity for that real, unselfish love by keeping up the walls?  And if I’m serious about staying single, why do I need the Tinder account, and why does it matter if no one notices me?

Sometimes my prayers are answered in real time.  Today, I prayed for two specific things.  Today, both of those prayers were answered.  Both of them involve me opening up to ideas and experiences that might leave me vulnerable.  One of them leads me to believe that my prayers are being heard, and that I need to be patient.  I was even given a sign.  It is important to believe that a work is being done in me and others, and that at the completion of that work, restoration will pour forth.  I need to let YHVH complete the work he is doing in me, the healing and the comforting, and to have faith in the work he is doing in others.  Some time ago, a question came in my spirit; would I choose the long bet, or the short certainty?  I chose the long bet.  I will have to just be patient and let my Father open his hand in his time. I’m still happy for the sign. 

I suppose, if I ran into some of my Suicide Support group folks, they would say that me just considering a serious relationship is progress in my healing and recovery.  I suppose that’s probably true.   I know they have heard me say that I fear I would only bring anger and bitterness to a marriage, and that I’m not sure it would be right to subject any man to that.  I can say this is almost certainly true, and I pray that when I am healed, it is a complete healing, to where the anger and the bitterness are washed away in a flood of love.  

In the meantime, I’m probably going to delete the Tinder account, and get on with living.  There’s plants to plant, weeds to kill, and grandchildren to love.  I don’t think talking to random strangers is going to bring any special kind of joy to my life.  It’s not as if my life is lacking anything that should make me happy, so I will simply BE happy with the blessings that I am steeped in, and BE blessed by the hope of emerging from this place to somewhere new completely.  I’ll embrace the life that I am living, and let the worries of tomorrow manage themselves.  I trust my Father has a plan, even when I can’t see it.

Amen.  Thanks for reading.