This last week or so has been a moment of clarity and realization for me.
Why was I so afraid to say how I felt? How come I had the facial expression down pat, the heart pounding away in my chest, searching for a way out, but the words would only get so far. Reaching the tip of my tongue, only for my teeth to cut them off, out of sight and mind from the outside world.
Why don't we go to God for everything? What the heck are we holding back for!? God will not be mad, God will not ignore it, God will not look down on us in a negative light. Justifications are useless at this point because God is waiting for us to tell Him. He obviously knows our exact thoughts and wants, as well as our needs. He is just allowing us to come around to telling Him. I suppose this is His way to test our trust for Him, His will, and His strength. Rest assured, and I promise, God will not be overwhelmed with our requests.
Luke 11:9-10 reads:
9 "So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. 10 For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened."
Translation: Come to God with everything, and He will give to you what you have requested. This doesn't mean if you ask to win the lottery, He will give it to you, but you must seek it. In doing so, trusting that God is there taking care of the situation and showing you the way.
I could escape the words for the moment, assuring myself that maybe next time would be best. I sought advice about it. When was the right time? How would I know? I sought advice from everyone BUT God.
The other day, I was told about a song called Perhaps Love, by John Denver. I listened to it while doing about 317 million other things. I replied to my friend that is was a 'good song.' Hindsight being 20/20, there is definitely a reason for her showing me this song. Not to seduce me, or confess her love for me (which she doesn't), but for me to see what John Denver was talking about at a later date. That day is today. Immediately upon starting this post, this song came to mind. I looked it up, and read the lyrics.
Side note confession: I would love to become a writer. I feel like I have enough in my heart to become one, but I am unsure if I am creative enough to put my words and thoughts into an intriguing format. :/
I found an interesting correlation between the words from Luke's Gospel and this song:
Perhaps love is like a window
Perhaps an open door
It invites you to come closer
It wants to show you more
I prayed. I asked for advice. I asked to be shown the way. I asked for a way out of my own head. I asked for my head to be numbed and silenced, to allow my heart to be heard. I understood that 'actions speak louder than words', but I asked that the words would serve as a form of clarity.
Outside of the door, curiosity is at its peak. I glance at the door in wonder. It seems as though there is something hidden by the door. Something much more than what I can see from the outside. So I knock, ring the doorbell, hoping that someone will answer. I long for the creaking noise of the hinges, the appearance of the guard at the door, the ability to peer inside of the doorway for a moment. A moment long enough to take a peak. Relieving the tension, worry, and wonder; but not long enough to subside the desire to push aside the door for a longer, closer look.
I made a promise to myself. I promised that I would restrain myself from telling someone I love them until I knew for sure that it was what I felt. I further promised myself that even if I wholeheartedly felt that way about someone, that I would have to hear it first in order for me to express my feelings.
When I am asked to come inside, my eyes become glazed over. I don't know what to look at first. I am unaware of how to think about what I'm seeing. I regress to my infancy stage, taking everything in, overloading my senses. I am unsure of how long I may be welcomed here. I have an overwhelming feeling of gratitude for the ability to step foot in this foreign place. I turn to the keeper of the place, and he has disappeared from the doorway. I am alone.
I broke my promise. I couldn't help it. A feeling came over me, and as my heart pounded and the goosebumps rose on my skin, the words flowed from my mouth uncontrollably.
Looking around the place, in search of who was once there, I see a light. Walking towards the light, I begin to hear a noise. A noise like no other. A noise that cannot be expressed by words, or relatable to any sound. It is as though time has completely stopped, and I am so transfixed on the light that my stare cannot be broken. Approaching the light, a figure is seen. It looks like a person, but I am unable to differentiate who it may be.
Days later, in the middle of a deep conversation, the favor was returned. Another promise had been broken. Another heart handed over to its new keeper. One who had given his heart, left with an open cavity that lay waiting, had been filled.
I am now close enough to see that there is a face in the light. It has become very recognizable to me. The look I see on the face is beautiful. A face that poets write about. A face authors write books about. A face producers make movies about. A face flush red with a newfound feeling. All things aside, four eyes now transfixed on each other. No words are spoken. All that is felt is each other's heartbeat.