True Love7:30 AM
“Father,” I told my Lord God one day, “for so long—and so unfaithfully—I’ve prayed about my future husband’s perfection. I’d beg You, ‘Please let him love this’ or ‘Father, don’t make him like this guy.’ With a perfect husband, I thought I was safe from divorce and unhappiness. But I forgot another important aspect of marrage: the wife. Me.”
And to be honest, the minute anything involves me, I start trembling. I blow it at the gates.
When I prayed for an almost-perfect husband, whose sins could be laughed off or assuaged by my undenying charm [insert sweet smile and brushing of lashes against soft cheek], I was, in effect, praying for a safe marriage. I had built so much of my future worth on my husband that I knew the minute we had the most minor spat, my world would crumble. The drama queen, in all her crushed emotion, would enter center stage and soliloquize to an empty audience about how life was doomed and love gone forever. Exeunt stage left.
That fairy tale prince worked at the beginning of my excursions in life and love. I was confused at first how someone I could love so much could hurt me so much. I was upset that the one I depended on so heavily could make mistakes. I was terrified to discover that I was not the center of everyone’s universe and that they could not satisfy my deepest needs. And I found out, very quickly, through those sobs that seem to come out of nowhere, “You know what, girl? You are very needy.”
So I continued praying: “What I want—most dearly, most longingly—is to love and be loved by You. I want all my hopes, my dreams, my goals wrapped up so tightly in Your unchanging nature that I will never break—and can be a bulwark for my husband should he ever enter my life. I want to find perfection in You, not me. Right now I am too independent of You and too dependent on others to be a good wife.”
I thought a bit before admitting this. But I did. “So I want to ask You a strange request—from a daughter to her daddy. You hold my heart and happiness in your hands—Father, guard it. And do not send me a husband until I am totally in love with You. Let my focus be on You—my love, my joy, my life, wrapped up in Your embrace. Keep me insensible to human love until I have drunk so deeply of Yours that I have no need of human love. Win my heart back—send Your Spirit—let this be the day I find You.”
POSTSCRIPT. Yes, I am only sixteen. You may laugh.