I’m continually amazed at the number of girls that struggle with it.
Idolizing a boy.
Ya. That idol.
It wreaked havoc in my life too.
And let me tell you, the relationship in which it manifested itself most strongly looked like a war scene….and ended like one too. And it is rather humbling to recount.
He became my whole world. My emotions rose and fell with his every action. I was happy when I was with him and sad when I wasn’t. I looked to him for my satisfaction, my worth; the fulfillment of all my hopes and dreams. When he was busy or needed sleep, I threw a fit to get him to stay. I manipulated with tears to get my way. I had some ridiculously unrealistic expectations for the relationship. The minute we disagreed on any little thing, it totally freaked me out. I was argumentative and needy–using sinful tactics to make it all go according to my plan. All I wanted was to be with him. I didn’t invest myself in anything other than work and him, especially the work of the kingdom. It was as if I saw him as my answer to everything, and I mean everything.
Ya, I know, I was the girlfriend from you-know-where.
But then God broke my heart by taking that boy away.
And I was destroyed. And broken. And desperate.
But He used that cavern of pain to teach me. So so much. Oh my goodness did He teach me.
And then He filled that cavern of pain with grace, and healed the broken pieces.
Because, can I tell you what He did with the giant mess of my heart? Can I tell you what I realized?
I’m no different than Eve. I bought the lies too.
I decided that my way was the best way. That God wasn’t enough. I wanted something else. Something better. I stepped out from underneath the instruction of the unfailing and protective Word. I sought hope in someone other than my Creator. I bought the lies that told me there was more happiness in my way. I decided God was keeping something from me if I followed His way–if I relaxed, let go, and trusted that He was sovereign, working to bring about His plan at that very moment. I loved my plan, that boy, more than I loved God. I sought hope, truth, satisfaction outside of Him who embodies hope, truth, and satisfaction.
Eve sought it in her quest for knowledge and equality.
I sought it in a fallen human being.
A human being who is not designed to bear the weight of my satisfaction, my hopes, my dreams, my joy, my sorrow, my soul.
And it was sin. Utterly disgusting sin.
Because sin looks just the same now as it did thousands of years ago in Genesis 3.
But oohhhh boy was it heartbreak. When God removes the object of your affection. It. Is. PAINFUL.
I fought Him. Hard. I wrestled long. I DID NOT want His way, I wanted my way. I was angry. I was hurt. And I was intent on pleasing myself.
But then there was the story of Abraham and Isaac.
And when it was apparent that Abraham was willing to sacrifice that son of promise, to put to death that dream, to lay that boy on the altar of obedience, the words that stopped him were these: “For now I know that you fear God since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me.”
And then David writes much of learning to fear God, most often through pain.
And suddenly I began to understand.
When these men surrendered what they wanted, what they dreamed of, their plan, often the most precious thing to them on this earth…really truly gave it up, proving it fell second to their love for God, God knew they feared Him.
That they valued His worth above all else. That they worshiped Him above all else.
That He was more valuable to them than all life could give or death could take.
That they would praise Him still, no matter what.
That their hearts were satisfied in Him and Him only. And earthly blessings were subsequent.
That they believed He is sovereign and nothing happens outside of His hand of protection, control, and love.
That whatever He decides is good. No matter what that might look like.
True surrender. That God is more important than any treasure of this life. And trust. Even when life appears to be spinning out of control.
And it was through this that He was tearing my heart open too.
Conviction turned that white-knuckled grasp on that boy to open-palmed surrender.
So, with a tear soaked face, I dropped to my knees.
And I gave that dream, that desire, that boy, that hope, up. I let go. Because I wanted Christ more than I wanted that dream.
And you know what verse rested on my heart? “For now I know you fear God.” (“Since you have not withheld…from Me.”)
And all at once He reclaimed His throne in my life.
And I understood.
What it means to fight to fear Him above all.
What it means to surrender all this world has to offer for the sake of loving Christ above all else.
And His desires became my desires.
And my perspective on that boy was transformed.
And that wrestling match stopped.
And grace abounded.
And my heart was filled with joy abundant.
And I was satisfied. In the One whom my heart was created to be satisfied by.
And I was at peace.
Not because my circumstances changed, but because my God saw He was more precious to me than all life could give or death could take.
In laying down my dream, there was surrender. And freedom. And humility. And worship.
And He was glorified.
And I was satisfied.
And blessings have ensued in abundance.
And to this day, that verse encourages me like few others.
And reminds me of the beauty found in correct fear. Of the blessings awaiting right worship. Of the joy found in God alone.