the rambling missionary

by erika haveman

 

 

I was going to post this a few weeks back, but things felt a little too raw still.  I’m still feeling pretty vulnerable in sharing this.  But.  Life is really just one big social experiment.  I mean…Jesus wins.  Obviously.  But we learn lessons – or do we?  I’ve been talking often about waiting.  I’m now well into this whole waiting thing.  Am I learning the lesson?  Do we learn lessons if it’s about shifting how we exist so that we can know Jesus more?  Every lesson learned is only as good as the next chance we have at testing it.  Every timeless truth is only as good as the real life application.

When it comes to dating another hard lesson I’ve learned is carrying my worth with the same weight as I carry his worth.  For a long time I thought mutual submission in dating ended at “this is me, are you in?” but I’m starting to realize it also takes, “okay that’s you? I’m in.”  I need to balance the “you’re worth it” with “I’m worth it” and I honestly hadn’t ever thought much about either (and I overthink everything).  Maybe I’d never dated or met a guy I thought was really worth it, but the last guy?  He definitely seemed worth it.

He had given up his whole life to go and bring Jesus to a people group in the middle of nowhere mountain land Africa who otherwise would not know the name of Christ.  After doing that for some years he shifted his focus to not just one people group but to all unreached people groups on the continent, giving his time to seeing how and where pioneering ministries could be established.  He probably would have kept giving his life to advance the Gospel in that way but instead he chose to give all of that up to move home and love and support his parents.  I mean this guy is self sacrificing on a whole other level – obviously he seemed like someone worthy of me spending time getting to know and maybe even eventually submitting my life to.   He was worthy of being heard and seen and cared for and supported in whatever other dreams he had.

I didn’t realize how the broken beliefs I held actually effected the way I interacted with people or how I would communicate with him.  While I was acting out of order I was simultaneously believing I wasn’t good enough, and therein prioritizing his worth above my own.  I tried to be honest one day, to share my feelings – but in doing so only brought undue pressure to a situation that otherwise would have been casual.  To a degree it was fair to wonder how he felt about me because after months of talking I was unsure, but on the other hand I let my own fear of rejection and not feeling good enough lead me to failing at communicating adequately.

After that I really had nowhere to go but down.  I described it to some friends later by saying I threw myself under the bus, dug myself into a hole, then found a gun at the bottom and shot myself in the foot.

Sounds dramatic but what can I say?  I’m a writer.  Drama is basically my lifeblood when it comes to words.

I can see all the ways I screwed things up.  I can see the pressure I put on him.  I can see how my lack of vulnerability led to pushing him away.  I can see how I let my inner narrative of not feeling good enough be the belief that led to actions of insecurity.  I can see that I prioritized him as worthy but I didn’t prioritize myself as equally worthy.

I’ve failed miserably with him and it took me some time to realize just because I failed doesn’t mean I am a failure.  Just because my experience with him validated my beliefs of “you’re not good enough, you’re not worth caring for, you aren’t beautiful enough to pursue” doesn’t mean those beliefs are anywhere close to true.

Learning lessons is really hard.  They hurt.  The pain I have felt as God has brought me in touch with my emotions has never been more real than over the past few months.  Yet I find myself continually grateful.  I can see that in the past couple of years he’s led me deeper into vulnerability – physically (making going to the gym in the fall of 2019 a regular activity), spiritually (connecting with Him in a fresh way through Anglicanism) and now emotionally.  I’m so aware that nothing is ever past redemption and restoration.  I’m also so aware that as much as I screwed up and have learned lessons they will really only be as good as the next guy that comes along – but I can do nothing to make “the next guy” come along (because waiting).  I’ve got the theory, I can write the timeless truth, but until there’s another actual, real human being in my life I won’t know how much I’ve grown.

My prayer is God brings a good man and then gives him all the grace and patience – cause he’s gunna need it.  But so will I.

On top of trying not to function out of order I have realized afresh I also must hold my worth as highly as I hold the worthy man’s.  I’m deserving of a man who pursues me.  I’m good enough for a guy to unashamedly tell me how he feels about me.  I’m worthy of pushing through hard conversations for.  These are the things I’ve told my girl friends over the years and these are the things married women have told me to hold out for, and I’m finally starting to see how I need to apply such good advice in my life too.

So here’s me: waiting & worthy.  Ironically God has spoken a lot to me about waiting & worthy far beyond the context of romantic relationship, but I can save those other words for other days.