Sisters know best. Anyway, mine does. I knew that. Briefly, I wondered if she might be wrong. She was not. :) And I was set free by it.
So I met this guy and I was pretty excited about it - even though I only talked to him once for two minutes. When I got my friend to discreetly give him my number (he wanted it - he didn't know I was behind it), I told my sister about the meeting. She and my brother-in-law listened excitedly for a minute, until the connections started forming in their minds. "Wait, is this the guy who. . . " Yup, that sounds like the one I met. Their faces fell. I trust my family, and especially my sister (and brother-in-law) because they know me better than anyone else on the planet. "What??" I asked immediately. "Is he not a good guy?" They fumbled around for a minute not getting much more out than, "I wasn't sure he was still practicing his faith." The other responded, "No, I didn't get that. . . " And finally, "He just didn't scream Lucy to me," my sister said. A little disappointed and definitely concerned, I proceeded forward in getting to know said gentleman with excitement but also caution.
Very prudent, so far.
He called later that day. I set a date for a week and a half out (I didn't want to seem overly excited, and I was quite busy). The date was amazing. Mass and the best Japanese sushi, apparently, in the country. Who knew that happened in Denver? Little and big things about him seemed to be lining up. Yep. This guy was fit for Lucy. His smell, his hands, his look, the way he carried himself, his love for Colorado, his rural country streak, his generous embracing detachment and poverty, his devotion to the faith and evangelization. It all seemed pretty great! Except that I didn't know his character yet. I knew that would only be revealed over time. I wanted to call my sister and tell her all about, so that she would see how suited he really was for me as I waited to get to know him more.
He invited me to a Saturday night public event that I turned him down for. I was busy. And then, as I expected in my mind but never believed in my heart, things started going down as fast as they went up. (Too perfect and too fast never work out in my past. I know that.) After a couple days of anxious waiting, he sort of offered some serious affirmation, maybe a little flattery, and sort of another date. I was uncertain of his commitment and enthusiasm to this one. . . . he seemed strong and positive, but signs pointed both directions. An hour after he offered to meet up, he texted that he was sick at the doctor, and would have to reschedule. I was about finished there. Something wasn't right.
But I still wanted more, and I didn't even know this guy!
And sure enough, after two more days of anxious waiting, striving to be patient, I got the text: "Lucy, I know you like people to be direct." How did he know that? It is exceedingly true, but we had never discussed this. "I met another girl Saturday night that I'm going to date. I think you're beautiful and amazing and I wish you all the best."
Dang.
Didn't see that one coming.
But 24 hours of life and reflection had me convinced; this was a strong discernment. On his end at least. Everything in his words was affirming, and seemed to me to get, or at least care about, who I was. His acknowledgement of my appreciation of directness got who I am. Getting sick an hour after you offer a date is a strong sign. I had begged God throughout that this connection/relationship would be in His hands, that He would do what He wanted with it. You can't be in grace and mess discernment up that badly. He knew enough of himself. He saw enough of me. And even though I didn't see it yet, I was clearly not for him. If he was that confident, we were fine.
Another day and a half later: feast of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. *Pause. Shift from the anxious, imagined, self-created, unfulfilling world into the real, the centered, the detached, the Sacred.*
The feast day of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. My heart's longing and desire. Even I forget that Margaret Mary Alacoque is my patroness, because she brings the Sacred Heart of Jesus to the eyes and hearts and souls of men. Even I forget that this is my Day. This is the day that, with Margaret Mary, I long for my Love more than any other (I do! And I think He longs for me more that day, too, though no less on any other). Even I forgot, until it was on top of me, how beautiful and precious and sacred this feast was, and how much I wanted to be at Mass, how much I longed to receive and be united to His Sacred Heart. No one else at this point knows that about me. The days of this devotion's high profile in my conversation have passed, even if it is still all true.
But my sister knew.
And she texted. Just to wish me a happy feast.
She knows me. Through and through, and she knows my heart, my soul, my nature. She remembered. She knew all along, better than I, and maybe even she, was willing to admit, that this fellow simply was not right for me.
How wonderful, this being known in my deepest heart, my deepest devotions. I am devoted and grateful to her for being my sister and who she is in my life.
This beautiful, perfect resolution brings into something into relief in my life: My sister knows me in some ways better than I. And I am a horrible judge of character, and I have no idea what I want in a man. I was already beginning to see that the ones I think I want are never the ones that are best for me. Now I am certain that I have no clue.
So with a heart finally letting go it's grasp, I cry out, with no desperation, but just telling him a simple, complete, uncovered truth: "God, I have no idea what I want. Even if I did, I couldn't make it work anyway. So it's all up to you now. Choose who you want. Bring who you want. And you have to make it all work out. I'm tapping out."
It wasn't just an act of surrender anymore like I've attempted so many times or a brief moment of begging for help after a glimpse of inadequacy. It was everything, all I had, full truth. I'm done. I know nothing and I can't do it. In a really beautiful way. That I can finally get out of the way. God has to make it work. I don't mean just touch up the edges of what I start. I mean he has to do all of it. Beginning, middle, end, all those details in between where I'll get anxious and scared. And it put me so perfectly at peace. I knew I couldn't do it successfully before anyway. Finally, I'm free of all that trying too hard, methods, strategies, fretting, (I've been doing a lot of that for a long time) and someone else can hopefully do His work in my life freely.
Beautiful.
Ha ha. Wouldn't you know, in the place of that peace, of just being myself, a certain pious gentleman I've had a crush on for two years walked up to me this morning and asked to take me out to dinner.
There may be snags or temptations to fall back in. But I don't think so. Something has changed. The compulsion is gone. I'm really free, because I still have nothing. Thanks be to God.
This was quite helpful and timely. Thanks. :)
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