I recently began a new relationship. As is a new relationship's wont, it has been much on my mind. This post goes through some of the things I have reflected upon as we have moved through the initial weeks of getting to know one another, particularly as it relates to the faith relationship I have with God.
I am struck by how much of the relationship itself consists in waiting. We date because we don't know whether this will work out in the end, so we're waiting on a final verdict from one or both of us on the relationship itself. Traditional in some ways at least, I (usually) wait for him to call. We wait for the next step in the relationship itself as we gradually get to know each other better and so move to different levels of sharing. But don't get me wrong. Despite all the waiting inherent in this process, I am definitely enjoying the process itself! It's just that it has struck me repeatedly that a relationship is just this: something already but still a process of becoming what it will be.
Waiting in the context of a relationship recalls to mind the already/not yet tension present in the way Scripture talks about the Kingdom of God and Jesus' present reign on earth. In some ways, it is already here, changing lives, working powerfully in this world, but in other, significant and substantive ways we still wait for the already-won Kingdom to be made manifest in our lives and this world. We wait for the fuller, deeper thing even while we enjoy the very good thing we already have and glimpses in what we have of what is to come. In this hurting yet wonder-full world and my fun yet becoming relationship, we wait, in hope.
I have been struck as well by the vulnerability that arises in me through this relationship. I am used to being what I have been for most of my adult life: basically an independent person. Instead, suddenly my whole day's outlook can be changed dramatically by this single other person - whether he calls or not, what he says in an email, an unexpected letter, etc. Just thinking of him brings a smile to my face, and my friends' teasing easily makes me blush.
So far the vulnerability has brought all good things; the cloud of euphoria that accompanies the early phase of a relationship makes me a very happy person! But I know the power is there as well for one of us to hurt or disappoint the other, for careless words to wound, for lack of contact to inspire a loneliness I wouldn't have felt so keenly a few months ago. It's a power that's scary to acknowledge in myself as well since both of our (not just mine) investment in the relationship and each other brings this vulnerability to the other. It's a risk I take, acknowledging it as part of the necessary process of a relationship, but it's not one I take lightly for either of us. It's helpful on my end to remember the trust I am forming through experience in the character of my boyfriend (and to work on making choices that form me into a person of character worthy of trust). It is good, too, to remember other influences on my well-being - the stable, unchanging love of the Father who calls me beloved (this music video recently made me cry); the family who loves me wherever I choose to go and whatever choices I make; the friends who so willingly rejoice with me.
The next theme of my reflection has been on the idea of hope. Two months ago, I didn't know this guy existed. Now, my life has changed dramatically in the space of days and weeks to reflect his existence - how I spend my free time, where my thoughts are, even how I relate to others. It's a simple but powerful reminder of how much a relationship can change us. May my relationship with Jesus affect me as much!
In Hebraic thinking, our "heart" was much more than our emotions; it also was the locus of the will and in some ways encompassed the orientation of the whole person him- or herself. Thus, out of our hearts flow our actions, our priorities (cf. Mt. 6:21), our thoughts. It makes me reflect carefully about where I am turning my heart, which leads me to my next thought.
I have been humbled in entering this relationship by the whole comparison of this earthly early care to my love for and relationship with God. I am struck by how quickly my thoughts go to him, how naturally I delight in spending time with him, how easily my joy and excitement overflow into sharing about him with others. Would that I had the same thoughtless, carefree joy and delight in my relationship with God! How might others respond if I as easily began talking excitedly about God as I do about my last weekend? Would they be drawn to Him when they see the glow he puts on my face? How often do I consider Jesus' reactions to my day, ways to integrate him into the interactions I have, regular sharing of my thoughts and emotions for the sake of having another reflect on them to me, perhaps gently pointing out where I fall short of Jesus' example?
I am sure there will be more lessons along the way, as there can be in any relationship but most strongly in the commitments where we make ourselves vulnerable. But for now, I'm enjoying the process and learning to wait, seeking to learn to live responsibly with both my own power and vulnerability in this new context, and aiming to orient my life - this relationship included - around the one Romance that can define and transform me in ways that prepare me to live all other parts of my life. May my love for Him grow and overflow in joyous abandonment that draws those around me to and reminds me of the worth of (as Chesterton put it in Orthodoxy) this lived Romance, a combination of strange and secure, wonder and welcome, happiness in this "wonderland" without "once being merely comfortable."
I am struck by how much of the relationship itself consists in waiting. We date because we don't know whether this will work out in the end, so we're waiting on a final verdict from one or both of us on the relationship itself. Traditional in some ways at least, I (usually) wait for him to call. We wait for the next step in the relationship itself as we gradually get to know each other better and so move to different levels of sharing. But don't get me wrong. Despite all the waiting inherent in this process, I am definitely enjoying the process itself! It's just that it has struck me repeatedly that a relationship is just this: something already but still a process of becoming what it will be.
Waiting in the context of a relationship recalls to mind the already/not yet tension present in the way Scripture talks about the Kingdom of God and Jesus' present reign on earth. In some ways, it is already here, changing lives, working powerfully in this world, but in other, significant and substantive ways we still wait for the already-won Kingdom to be made manifest in our lives and this world. We wait for the fuller, deeper thing even while we enjoy the very good thing we already have and glimpses in what we have of what is to come. In this hurting yet wonder-full world and my fun yet becoming relationship, we wait, in hope.
I have been struck as well by the vulnerability that arises in me through this relationship. I am used to being what I have been for most of my adult life: basically an independent person. Instead, suddenly my whole day's outlook can be changed dramatically by this single other person - whether he calls or not, what he says in an email, an unexpected letter, etc. Just thinking of him brings a smile to my face, and my friends' teasing easily makes me blush.
So far the vulnerability has brought all good things; the cloud of euphoria that accompanies the early phase of a relationship makes me a very happy person! But I know the power is there as well for one of us to hurt or disappoint the other, for careless words to wound, for lack of contact to inspire a loneliness I wouldn't have felt so keenly a few months ago. It's a power that's scary to acknowledge in myself as well since both of our (not just mine) investment in the relationship and each other brings this vulnerability to the other. It's a risk I take, acknowledging it as part of the necessary process of a relationship, but it's not one I take lightly for either of us. It's helpful on my end to remember the trust I am forming through experience in the character of my boyfriend (and to work on making choices that form me into a person of character worthy of trust). It is good, too, to remember other influences on my well-being - the stable, unchanging love of the Father who calls me beloved (this music video recently made me cry); the family who loves me wherever I choose to go and whatever choices I make; the friends who so willingly rejoice with me.
The next theme of my reflection has been on the idea of hope. Two months ago, I didn't know this guy existed. Now, my life has changed dramatically in the space of days and weeks to reflect his existence - how I spend my free time, where my thoughts are, even how I relate to others. It's a simple but powerful reminder of how much a relationship can change us. May my relationship with Jesus affect me as much!
In Hebraic thinking, our "heart" was much more than our emotions; it also was the locus of the will and in some ways encompassed the orientation of the whole person him- or herself. Thus, out of our hearts flow our actions, our priorities (cf. Mt. 6:21), our thoughts. It makes me reflect carefully about where I am turning my heart, which leads me to my next thought.
I have been humbled in entering this relationship by the whole comparison of this earthly early care to my love for and relationship with God. I am struck by how quickly my thoughts go to him, how naturally I delight in spending time with him, how easily my joy and excitement overflow into sharing about him with others. Would that I had the same thoughtless, carefree joy and delight in my relationship with God! How might others respond if I as easily began talking excitedly about God as I do about my last weekend? Would they be drawn to Him when they see the glow he puts on my face? How often do I consider Jesus' reactions to my day, ways to integrate him into the interactions I have, regular sharing of my thoughts and emotions for the sake of having another reflect on them to me, perhaps gently pointing out where I fall short of Jesus' example?
I am sure there will be more lessons along the way, as there can be in any relationship but most strongly in the commitments where we make ourselves vulnerable. But for now, I'm enjoying the process and learning to wait, seeking to learn to live responsibly with both my own power and vulnerability in this new context, and aiming to orient my life - this relationship included - around the one Romance that can define and transform me in ways that prepare me to live all other parts of my life. May my love for Him grow and overflow in joyous abandonment that draws those around me to and reminds me of the worth of (as Chesterton put it in Orthodoxy) this lived Romance, a combination of strange and secure, wonder and welcome, happiness in this "wonderland" without "once being merely comfortable."
beautifully written as always :) Thanks for sharing!
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