In my recent article titled The Harvest of Heartbreak, I addressed one of the most painful periods of my life over the last year. To the naked eye, the circumstances don’t seem to warrant the anguish I found myself in for months (and counting). Truthfully, I’m not even certain why a measly failed attempt at love has decimated me to this extent. Regardless of whether my pain seems appropriate or not, it is present. Throughout my numerous laments to God, He has found touching ways to signal small hugs when I have feared that my prayers were falling on deaf ears.
Stranger at the Gym
I had just sent a text to the (unfortunate) object of my affection shortly after things went south in hopes of repair. I was almost certain I wouldn’t receive a response. My therapist encouraged me to be patient and not jump to conclusions. With it being so soon after my initial heartbreak, I was already an emotional wreck daily. I had been binge-watching sermons on YouTube and pleading with God for this guy to change his mind. In an attempt to distract myself, I headed to the gym for a workout at a time of day that I had never gone before. As I was trying to focus on my exercises, I felt a wave of tears coming on and decided to grab my things from the locker room and head out before I embarrassed myself by having a massive cry in public. In the locker room, an older lady found me and told me that God put it on her heart to pray for me and asked if I would be okay with that. In disbelief, I hastily accepted. I told her that I was actually going through a really tough time and we prayed together. It was just the little “nudge” of comfort I needed in order to see for myself that God was with me in my pain. As for the text back? I finally received it at around 11:00 p.m. that night after I had gone to sleep. It was a kind response, but just that.
Ghost from the Past
As I entered the summer months with a continuous aching heart, an old fling messaged me out of the blue to apologize for how he handled our romantic entanglement nearly a decade prior. With him now being in his mid-30s and happily engaged, there were ironically many parallels in his behavior and mannerisms that led to the deterioration of our budding relationship back then that aligned with the unfortunate situation that had crumbled for me earlier in the year. Strangely enough, the old fling was the exact same age a decade ago as the “man” who recently broke my heart (23 on the cusp of 24, to be exact). The old fling explained that his seeming fear of commitment and sudden decision to cut me out of his life had nothing to do with his lack of feelings for me; quite the opposite, actually. He had experienced a job loss while we were dating and feared that I would decide I could do better. He avoided making our relationship official but was unable to communicate why. One day, after a brief argument, he cut me off cold turkey and didn’t speak to me for six months. While he was forgiven years ago, and we had even chatted as friends many times before he reached out over the summer, a strong part of me feels God inspired him to reach out. Although I’m not sure of the exact reason behind God’s inspiration, I believe it provided me with perspective that a man’s actions or seeming rejection of me aren’t always directly related to my lack of value or attractiveness in his eyes, and that it is capable for a man to see the error of his ways years down the road with growth and maturity. Do I know if that will happen with the most recent man to crush my heart? Sadly, no. But this gifted act from God provides a silver lining of hope to get me through until the day that I no longer feel the pressing need for validation from the man who hurt me.
Road Signs
As the waves of my sadness recur in slower increments than before, I still struggle deeply at times. Out of desperation, my prayers for a change of heart, emotional healing and a breakthrough have gotten louder and more persistent, sometimes even combined with fasting. Recently, as I was driving down the road, I was listening to a sermon on how to hear God’s voice. There was no traffic, and I basically had the highway to myself. I became stunned, however, when at the exact same time, the pastor preaching the sermon said, “Slow down,” a digital message sign for construction standing on the side of the road flashed, “Slow down” and “Follow the signs.” I felt a jolt through my body in disbelief. The timing of encountering the sign and the words of the sermon were in complete sync. Needless to say, message received. Frustratingly, patience is not my strong suit, so I am still trying to learn how to slow down and wait on God. More puzzlingly, slow down and wait for what exactly?
Not too long ago, I was yet again driving on I-40 and listening to a sermon (by the same pastor). I paused the sermon when I felt the need to talk to God about what I was feeling. I started to cry as I prayed, feeling defeated that I was still so desperately craving reassurance that I wasn’t undesirable and feeling an embarrassingly strong desire for this man to one day circle back around, even though I highly doubt that’s God’s will. I had been ugly crying for about five or 10 minutes and wiping my nose and eyes with a Bojangles napkin. Suddenly, I heard a few small honks. I looked over and saw a man in the car next to me waving at me and trying to get my attention. Initially, I was annoyed and startled. Was my tire flat? Is there something wrong with my car? Is he just being a pervert? He rolled down his window and held his phone out for me to read a message, all while trying not to have an accident. In giant letters on his phone, he had written “JESUS LOVES YOU.” I flashed an enormous smile, gave him a thumbs up and he sped away. Astonishingly, God had sent another reminder to me that He hears my prayers (which only prolonged my crying spell, just for a much better reason).
