Sun, May 22
... Take the pieces of my heart
It has been a very strange week. Relationally, that is. And not my relationships, but those of people that I'm close to. Sometimes, not even close emotionally, but close in proximity.
I know three couples right now that are going through various degrees of crap, due in large part to their varying degrees of stupid decisions. Not totally, but somewhat. And it's hard to watch. It's difficult that it's all come up at once, and all these people that I care about are putting their hearts at risk.
The verse... it's in Proverbs, but I can't remember the exact reference right now--"Above all, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." That keeps coming to my heart and head. It's a tough lesson to learn, and it seems like everyone has to make their own mistakes to get there, but it hurts to watch people go through what is so easily avoidable.
This week has brought up some strange memories for me--it's taken me back to some strange places, and brought events that I've tried to shove to the deepest recesses of my soul to the forefront. I ache--my heart aches, and my body is literally reacting--for the pain I see playing out in front of me, and for the pain that I see on the horizon.
I have enough trouble keeping my own love life running smoothly (what am I talking about? I have enough trouble keeping it alive, let alone anything else!) without everyone else's coming in and causing stress. And yet, somehow, that's the biggest thing this week. These six people are tugging on my heartstrings, and God is continually bringing them to mind, over and over again, imploring me to pray for them and bring them to the Throne, where he can do more to heal than I could ever dream of doing.
I am so not cut out for this. But... this is where I am. This is where God has placed me, so for right now, this is the blessing that is mine.
And that verse keeps coming to mind. Guard your heart. It's a phrase that I heard all through my teen years--be careful. Guard your heart. Be choosy about who you let in. Where does the guard become a fortress, though? Where does the hedge of protection surrounding my heart become a brick wall? I don't want to let people in at a whim, but I don't want to guard my heart so closely that no one can ever get in.
I want to cultivate it and strengthen it so that it can withstand the legitimate pain that comes with real relationships. I want my heart to be strong, so that it can welcome anyone that God sends across my path; so that it is an open, caring, receptive heart. Do that too many times, though, and it becomes easier to just harden it so that none of the pain--deserved or not; legitimate or not; logical or not--can touch it. That's not who I want to be, either.
Guard your heart. I want one man to own my heart, and I don't want to give it away until I know that I'm giving it to someone who will treasure it like his own. Someone who will guard my heart, as well as his.
If marriage is becoming "one flesh," doesn't it follow that on some level you become "one spirit"? Not every level, of course--I am and always will be accountable to God for my own actions, and my husband will never be able to answer to God for me--but I should guard his heart, soul, mind, and strength with the same tenacity and single-mindedness that I should guard my own.
Should I not do everything in my power to guard my husband's purity, his time, his talents, his gifts, his body, his intellect, his will, his heart, his emotions... everything in a human being that I treasure and maintain in myself--should I not treasure and maintain those in him, too? And him in me?
That, to me, is a description of my ideal marriage. It encompasses love, sacrifice, submission, desire, intimacy, faithfulness, trust... all the things that are integral to making it work.
And for that, I want to save my heart. I want to guard my heart until I can give it fully to someone who will give me his in return, and whose heart I can fully cherish.
I only hope that the deepest fears that plague me in the middle of the night aren't true. That the choices I made when I was young and stupid, though they will affect me for the rest of my life, are not beyone redemption. That it isn't too late; that I haven't given too much away already; that I still have something left to hold onto.
Some days, I feel like I cling to the tattered remains of my heart like a child clinging to a much-laundered blanky on the first day of kindergarten. It isn't much to offer anymore. It isn't bright and shiny and new and whole, but it's all I've got, and I guard it with my life. I hold onto it with all that is left in me, and I pray that someone, someday will see the beauty in the brokeness, and will take my pieces and quilt them together with his, making a whole blanket again.
infinite || abyss
posted at 10:04 p.m.
