Searching for Love
My life has been a hunt for love—and isn’t that really true for all of us? We often go from searching for it in a man to demanding it later from our husband or friends, and then to attempting to fill in the gaps with overcompensations for our every fear. It is like we throw a whole bunch of strategies up in the air and hope that one will fall just right.
Please, God, please. Let it happen this time.
At this time in my life, I searched and I searched hard. I headed to church. I headed to the bars. I roamed from here and there, hoping that Mr. Prince Charming was about to become my boyfriend/ husband in T-minus-one second. My worst nightmare looked like being alone my whole life—not because being alone is bad but because I would have to live as just me, with only my thoughts to help me. We know where that would end: disaster.
I couldn’t let that happen. So I went on “missions.” I’d snag a guy, get to know him, and then give up, knowing it was all his fault. When I didn’t do that, I’d overexert myself to make up for the fact that I had no cruddy idea if the guy actually liked me.
Bar after bar, bliss in a glass never showed up, and I always felt cruddy the next day. Each attempt hurt.
Failed Strategy #1
So I did what any self-respecting, righteous Christian girl would do: I worked harder for love. I did more church things and did them well, thinking God would get reciprocal in nature and hand out what I needed. I did this to no avail, and with no ring. Fortunately I got to the point where I realized I couldn’t really work to earn something that Jesus already bought and paid for. I now know this is why Jesus said, “It is finished” (John 19:30).
Failed Strategy #2
So on I went. Clearly I was learning other people had no power to help me. I had to regain control so as to be in control. I restricted my diet, believing that the world was right—to be thinner is to end up a winner. Let’s try it, I figured. But I didn’t end up a winner; all I did was prevent myself from being able to think straight. I lived in a fog where breathing, thinking, and relaxing felt horribly uncomfortable. I hurt.
Failed Strategy #3
What do you do when your best strategies to prevent disaster fall like ve loaded juggling balls directly onto your face? What do you do when you can’t seem to keep life up in the air, where you are untouchable and where people don’t get hurt?
These were always my questions. Sometimes they still are. Many days I still yell, “Ow!” and look up at God, like, Why me? But through all this trial and error, all this learning, all this disaster in my life, something gets worked out. And then, when lucidity sets in, the message appears more obvious: until we realize we can never do enough, we’ll never live enough by the real strength that saves.
Hmm. This kind of knowledge sits well in my head. But it doesn’t always last in my heart. At least not until my soul gets here, to this place: “God, I am not so good and I don’t know what to do about it. Please rescue me.” This kind of prayer is the equivalent of progress.
It attaches to our heart and makes its way, like oxygen, to every part of our limbs. It moves us differently. The second we say “I can’t” to God, He steps in to show us His “I can.”
I tried it. I tried it with the knowledge that God’s rescuing horses are just around the corner. What if you tried it too? Just think: What might happen if you called on Him, waited on Him, hoped in Him, and believed in Him? If you started to activate those horses with belief in God’s real power?
It will work. See disaster? Scream, “I am not so good. I don’t know what to do. I can’t. Come, God, rescue me!”
Then watch the cavalry come stampeding in, ready to move mountains because of just a miniscule seed of faith (Matt. 17:20). It won’t always be as you demand or according to your timeline, but it will be. It will be done according to the One who holds the earth together. It will be done with love.
After trying 101 other strategies, I have come to believe this is the only way. A tree falling nearly directly onto my car: the only way. Birthing a baby in nearly thirty minutes with back labor, protruding head, and no meds: the only way. Feeling like the airplane was fizzling to the ground and was going to crash: the only way. Trusting God was all I had left when I felt like nothing else was left. It is the only way when things look their worst and disaster waits to strike.
The only way.
It is all we have left when the world gets meaner and uglier and we fear we might not be the ones left standing (which we always will, by the way; imagine my fist-bump to eternity).
This is prayer that works. And not only does it work but it also uplifts, especially when you couple it with “Thank You.”
Thank You, God, that You will rescue me.
Thank You, God, that You are faithful to save.
Thank You, God, that You are the great I AM who will do what You say You will do.
When we say thank you we start believing we have a lot to be thankful for.
Content taken from the book, Fear Fighting: Awakening Courage to Overcome Your Fears, written by Kelly Balarie. ©2017 by Kelly Balarie. Used by permission of BakerBooks, a division of Baker Publishing Group.
Kelly Balarie has lived her subject matter. Her faith was built as she battled through an eating disorder, depression, serious health concerns, company failures, family tragedies, job losses, and times without income. Throughout it all, Kelly has looked past the pain to pursue God’s always-unfolding plan. Kelly is a featured blogger at Crosswalk.com and iBelieve.com. Her work has been featured on Relevant, (in)courage.me, and Today’s Christian Woman. She lives with her husband and two toddlers near the sun-soaked shores of the East Coast.
Image courtesy: Pexels.com
Publication date: January 5, 2017