A Wrung-out Heart

To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. ⎯C. S. Lewis

A few months ago, while I was in the midst of the job hunt and general overhaul of my life, I opened my heart up to someone. Maybe it was because I was in a particular place of vulnerability and risk-taking and being open-minded (some might say I was experiencing some kind of job rebound), but I really felt like God was leading me to take a leap on love and trust Him in the process. I was already trusting Him for so much, why not? Even in the midst of so much uncertainty, I was sure about what I wanted and needed in a relationship. I think I felt stronger about that part of my life than anything. Once I had some time to decompress and not be totally stressed out about work (the old job completely drained me, I realized once I was free from it), a truer self came out. A calmer, more graceful, more loving and creative self. I liked that self, which made the idea of a relationship even better.

Because when it comes down to it, deep down inside, it's being that person and loving God and people (and specifically, one person) for life that is my truest destiny and calling. Even though I'm grateful for an amazing job and the means to provide for myself, that's not my ultimate purpose.

But, I didn't choose wisely. I knew what I wanted and needed, but I tried to compromise and stretch things a bit. I ended up having to cut things off before my heart became too attached. It hurt me and it hurt the guy, and I hate that. Even when you can be mature about it, it still hurts.

What I've realized in the months since, though, is the reality of that C. S. Lewis quote. Sure, it hurts to put yourself out there and be wrong. It hurts to feel like the new kid on the block again. It hurts to want to give your heart away so badly, only to have it handed back to you. But you know what hurts worse? Never experiencing love at all. Never putting yourself in that vulnerable place. I miss a lot of things about that dating relationship, but probably most of all, I miss that feeling of vulnerability. Of my time and things not being just my own... of giving away, sharing, and wasting myself on another.

In the quiet moments, my heart aches for that. I really think that ache might be worse than the pain of loss. At least when you lose, the searing lets you know you're alive. But when the darkness starts to set in, it's as if someone is trying to close the door, seal it off, and suck all the air out. It's the ache of lungs dying for breath.

But then I realize, I don't have to be in a dating relationship to have that vulnerability. God used that to help me open my heart, but now it can stay open. I can open it with my good friends. I can open it as I move forward with adopting a greyhound, which in a small way will be a step toward daily giving myself away for the good of another. I know it's a dog, but she will be my reminder of God's grace, of the fact that He's not done with me, that my heart is still malleable and not turning into that impenetrable stone. But that's not enough... I sense that I must do more in order to shatter that casket and make sure my heart stays alive.

I must give away pieces of it every day to the people He has made and allow Him to bring them back to me, wrung out and refilled with His life-giving blood. This is my ultimate purpose.

If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. ⎯Jesus, Matthew 16:24–25