I feel huge.
My mind is flooded with her.
She makes me feel free.
My past relationships seem to take down payments of who I was just to activate, let alone cultivate.
It took almost entirely my ability to give myself.
I'm talking about sacrifice.
Of course, this is not a bad quality to have, but those girls were undeserving of this sacrifice
because in order for an us to even exist, I couldn't.
It's my own fault though, I felt that I could because out of all the things about me that
reflect God, the quickest to set forth in a dangerous situation is his sacrifice.
But her, she's someone unneeding of me to lay it all down on the prelude, on the overture.
She's got God for that, for the faith and the hope that everything will come out okay.
And I can stand at her side as she stands by mine, each of us together pining for the
same thing in parallel medias.
No exchange of coin, none, no exchange of coin.
Just a discovery of gold minus the L.
Yeah, this is my hugeness inside of me, but I've known these things in sight before.
Why is it so grand and freeing now?
She is worth that sacrifice.
One day, someday, when one ship is starting to capsize or both are caught by the tempest,
she is worth this sacrifice.
There already have been laid a life between the two, a certain kind of exchange of fuel
in the kiln.
A foundation bigger than our ships can haul alone, the ocean itself cannot bear it.
A life bigger than our own, something the future doesn't even hold because it's already
begun.
Okay, so I feel huge.
Like I'm free.
Like my purpose means something to someone.
If I look at the Bible and what it says about men and women in relationship, it says that
men are supposed to love women like Christ loved his church and women are supposed to
respect us because that love, Christ's love, is worth respecting.
How does my, how does my relationship with her and this manner reflect my relationship
with him, with how it should be?
Because if the Bible stayed in Christ as an example, it's easy to see the parallel.
Lately in James, I've been reading that prayer from a person living a rich and God-centered
life is a powerful thing.
We're supposed to be known by our love, that God is love.
Men love women as Christ's loved us, those he died for.
In all my past instances, I've died, but none of those Gospels echoed further than my own
skull.
None of them allowed me to be who I was, who God made me.
So now I'm wondering if it's wrong to think that maybe right now, this feeling of freedom
to be who I am, it's a little of what God might feel like when someone not only lets
Christ die for them, but be everything he says he is in their life.
That the prayer of someone honestly and earnestly seeking after Jesus is a little more potent
because God is a little more free to be everything he says he is in their life.
Specifically, we don't love and respect Christ because he died for us.
No, we do it because he was willing.
And when the only resilient possible way to say I love you was to die, he did.
But dying at the same time, maintaining himself in full.
With her, I don't have to die.
The fact that everything that God has created, imagined, written me for her to hopefully
faithfully someday love me.
Because those qualities in me she recognizes and I recognize in her are qualities and pieces
of who God are.
We're mirrors for each other.
We're a model of how to love God and how God loves us.
Maybe that's why the relationship has the capacity to damage one so heavily.
Because it wasn't created just for us.
Maybe it was meant to explain something larger in us that is and always was whole.
Maybe we all contain this innate sense that love, love in any capacity or only fractions
of a larger, more complete love.
And when we miss it, it destroys us because we fell in love with faith we didn't.
And we didn't find him in it.
It's not a person we're looking for, but a complimentary reflection of God.
It almost makes all those heartfelt pop songs for the listener.
It's just something we instinctively need from God and the company of each other.
