...on that note...

So I've been in such a weird place lately. I've gone MONTHS without even going on a "real" date- self-imposed exile of course! And I am still totally okay with it considering that between work, school and motherhood I really don't have the a) time for a date, b) time to play the get-to-know-ya game, c) space in my brain for one more thing/person, d) space in my life to try to make time or room for anyone else.

...and most importantly...

e) I don't even have the time to keep up with my friends who I care about and value (see all top eight), who have already earned their place in my mind/time/life.

It does feel good to have made the decision of abstinence and purposeful singlehood during this time. It's like I've made my choice and I'm sticking to it. Friends have told me, "Jessica, the time is never right, if "the one" comes along you need to be open and receptive to him." But really, if "the one" comes along and wants me to squeeze him in and isn't willing respect my life of chaotic cramming for tests, research papers, etc. and realize that I don't have room for yet another priority- then is he really "the one?" Would "the one" WANT to further pile onto my plate? And yes, my friend Nick once told me that "the one" wont further pile my plate but instead help me to clear it--- well, if there's not time for thoughtful discernment, then that means just accepting any ol' joe that comes along. And I'm picky...

...and that, my friend, just opens yet another can of worms... another soapbox for another day...

So,

I've been feeling frustrated and powerless. I have CHOSEN to go back to school. I KNEW it would completely take over my life. But I guess I didn't understand the DEGREE of my life that would be consumed! Maybe it's because I took that three month break- I got a taste of freedom... Maybe it's because I've had this schedule for four months since that break (and over a year total) and it's just "time" for a break (breaking point?). Maybe I was able to focus on working out, chillin' with Aidan, get my body and mind back during my break. And maybe because I hit the ground running at 6am, using my lunch hours for research at the college, spend my evenings either in class, cooking dinner, cleaning the apartment, or studying- so that I've gotten chubby again :( and I don't have that mental release that comes from running.

But I've been thinking all these thoughts about my life, my schedule, body, friend and love relationships and they've been sitting on the back of my mind CONSTANTLY.

So although I haven't been "heartbroken" in quite a long while (and you have beared witness to that lengthy healing process- thankfully it's done and over!), but I opened Sex God by Rob Bell last night because "relationship" is the topic it exactly speaks about (relationship= friends, lovers, pain, happiness, etc).

I read this and thought I'd share:

This is why for thousands of years Christians have found the cross to be so central to life. It speaks to us of God's suffering, God's pain, God's broken heart. It's God making the first move and then waiting for our response.

If you have ever given yourself to someone and had your heart broken, you know how God feels.

If you have ever given yourself to someone and found yourself waiting for their response, exposed and vulnerable, left hanging in the balance, you know how God feels.

If you have ever given yourself to someone and they responded, they reciprocated with love of their own, you know how God feels.

The cross is God's way of saying, 'I know what it's like.'
The execution stake is the creator of the universe saying, 'I know how you feel.'

Our tendency in the midst of suffering is to turn on God. To get angry and bitter and shake our fist at the sky and say, 'God, you don't know what it's like! You don't understand! You have no idea what I'm going through. You don't have a clue how much this hurts.'

The cross is God's way of taking away all of our accusations, excuses, and arguments.

The cross is God taking on flesh and blood and saying, 'Me too.'

This can transform our experience of heartbreak. Instead of being something that distances us from God, causing us to question, 'Where are you?' every poem by a lover spurned, every song sung with an ache, every movie with a gut-wrenching scene, every late-night coversation and empty box of kleenex are glimpses into the life of God.

Our first need is not for people to fix our problems. People who charge in and have all the answers and try to make things right without first joining us in our pain generally annoy us, or worse yet, they push us away. They have nothing to give us. The God that Jesus points us to is not a god who stands at a distance, wringing his hads and saying, 'If only you'd listened to me.'

This is the God who holds out his hands and asks, 'Would you like to see the holes where the nails went? Would that help?'

It's the place we find out that we're not alone, where we find strength to go on. Not a strength that comes from within ourselves but a strength that comes from God. The God who keeps going. Who keeps offering. Who keeps loving. Who keeps risking.

A God who knows what it's like.

The cross is where we present our wounds to God and say, 'Here, you take them.'

Our healing begins when we participate in the suffering of God. When we don't avoid it but enter into it, and in the process enter into the life of God. When we see our pain not as separating us from but connecting us to our maker.

And in this connection, there's always the chance we'll find a reason to risk again.

If God can continue to risk, then maybe we can too.

Perhaps you have had your heart broken by somebody. You risked and extended and offered yourself, and they rejected and turned away and didn't return your love.

There is something divine in your pain.

You know how God feels.

Really good, loving people get hurt. It's how things are.

Maybe you're living in the wake of a relationship that fell apart. You have to dig those moments up. The parts that hurt and the awkward conversations and the anger and the failure and the misunderstanding and the betrayal. You have to dig them up and acknowledge them before you are ever going to heal.

The danger is that you will decide it isn't worth it. Why risk if it's going to hurt like this? The tragedy would be for you to shut down, to allow a wall to be built around your heart, and for something within you to die.

A decision not to risk again is a decision not to love again. They go together.

Why is it those we love the most are the ones capable of hurting us the most? Our greatest wounds rarely come from strangers. They probably come from an ex-fiance, a former friend, a roommate, a sister, a business partner.

Even in healthy relationships, an offhanded comment or a rolling of the eyes can cripple us for days or years or even a lifetime. This is because the more we open ourselves up, the more vulnerable we are. The more exposed we are, the more it hurts. The more we let someone in, the greater the risk. Surprise, anger, shock, betrayal, helplessness- it all gets mixed in together.

There's a phrase that I have heard used to explain how God loves everybody equaly. People say that 'the ground at the foot of the cross is level.' The idea that God has no favorites, that no matter where you're coming from and what you've done and who you've been with and how badly you've screwed it up, the cross is the place where God looks past it all and forgives and accepts and wipes the slate clean.

In the matters of love, it's as if God has agreed to play by the same rules we do. God can do anything- that's what makes God, God. But God can't do everything. God can't make us love him- that's our choice.

Love is risky for God too.