What a Day…
Sitting on this side of the screen doesn’t even begin to reflect how I feel after surviving several disappointments I’ve been ruminating on in my life lately. Sitting here, in the quiet space of my own thoughts, I find myself asking what I could have done differently—what choices might have led to a more enjoyable outcome. Right now, I’m specifically talking about relationships. (Don’t worry — all the other disappointments in my life will probably get their own dissertations in this space soon enough. 🙂)
But for now… the love life of my dreams has eluded me yet again.
This place—this tender ache of wanting and desiring a version of love (or maybe just lust) that you’ve had a taste of—creates a tangible misery I wouldn’t wish on anyone. This may not be my idea of a great blog post, but it is a realistic snapshot of what emotional survival looks like these days. Oh, you thought I was just going to use this space for some one-dimensional talk? Absolutely not. We are triune beings — mind, soul, and spirit — and those parts of us are so often at odds with one another, each wanting its own way.
So my purpose here is to show how we can be completely fallible… and yet still live an amazing, meaningful life with a Savior who sees and knows the deepest desires of our hearts. Sitting here with the shame of wanting love — almost more than I want purpose — has felt heavy to me.
Yes, I have been married.
Yes, I’ve had rendezvous.
Yes, I’ve had “situationships” that evolved into long-distance flings.
But my truest heart’s desire?
It’s to experience God’s love in human form, expressed through the relational gift of romance. You can call me a romantic. You can call me a realist. But what I really hope to be called is Love itself — showing up in spaces where I can embody God’s love, letting it pour out of me and flow back to me. That is my desire — to give and receive love romantically, platonically, in friendship, socially, emotionally, and spiritually.
If you’re reading this and you’ve ever felt the same ache, the same longing, or the same quiet shame — I want you to know you’re not alone. We’re all learning how to love the skin we’re in, and to trust that the One who made us still has a beautiful plan for our hearts.