Fifteen years ago today.
A boy who was the closest to my heart than anyone, had been out of my life for several years when unexpectedly he chose courage and me again.
Though I didn't accept his invitation to go out that night, I did invite him to call again.
And when he did, just weeks after I'd made the most difficult decision of my life -- feeling ashamed, confused, and beaten up -- I told him I had a secret.
He went through every possibility to guess what it could be.
He even named it, though I denied it.
His guessing of my sin was enough for me to think maybe he had enough grace inside of him to accept me --
even though I...
And so for awhile I kept hope inside and this secret tucked away, safe and sound for fear he would go away again.
A year and a half later I finally let truth be known.
Because I finally realized our togetherness wasn't safe or sound with a secret between us.
And just as I had hoped, his response was to stay.
A secret untied and spiraled in a beautiful celebration of {grace}.
It wasn't long until we were engaged. And hardly anyone was surprised, except for me --
the one who carries hope so cautiously,
as if it might plummet from my heart that holds it, crash to pieces
and become nothing but a waste of life.
We hurried our wedding along. And I admit that it was all because of my fear.
What if he decides differently with time?
Still, for nearly 12 years I've worn this band on my finger --
the ring that reminds me there is no beginning or end to love.
the one with a cross etched in it that reminds me of Him in us.
It has been nearly a decade of working at our story of togetherness.
And last night I fell apart. In the kitchen. Making dinner for us; now three from us two.
I was almost paralyzed by fear again.
Of not being accepted -- for being me in all my messed up choices.
I didn't want to choose courage and talk through details to make a decision together.
I shouted and made a mess and I just wanted to hide myself away.
But grace just looked back at me, sitting there at the table while I ranted and raved.
And even though I went to bed with this shame keeping him an arms length away, he will wake up and we'll do togetherness again.
I am accepted and loved. And overwhelmed.
So here we are on Thanksgiving Day with all those years gone by and I choose gratitude --
for {grace}.
and the courage to accept it.
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ReplyDeleteBeautiful story of staying. Accepting. Loving.
ReplyDeleteOr, should I say, *being accepted* and *being loved*...and having someone stay.
ReplyDelete