It would take a year. A year of wrestling within my soul. This was a year of being set-apart, and consecrated unto God. A year of denying the flesh, likened to a fasting–a releasing and a clinging, learning to live a life surrendered. This was a work of the Spirit, in the heart of a single mama, that is an integral part of my life story, whose Author is God.



I am 17 in years. In life, much older. I am already a mama. In church we sing…


♫ As the deer panteth for the water,

so my soul longeth after thee… ♫


This I can sing, with heart sincere. I do long after Him. But for the next verse I must remain silent, and instead voice a prayer from my heart, “May these words be true in me.”


♫ You alone are my heart’s desire. ♫ 

Something else takes precedent in my heart. Something that takes the throne of my heart, over the King of Kings. It is the desire to have companion, a friend, a more than friend, in my life. This is the first time, since I was 5 years old, I do not have a boyfriend. This is the first year I DO have a Lord.


I am learning the difference between, I want and cannot have, and I want and should not have.  With the latter, the decision is mine.


Yet, all things are permissible, but not all things profitable.
1 Corinthians 10:23


A wrestling in my heart, where the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. I desire to please God. I know what He is asking of me, but the will is free to choose. During this time, what I want more than what I want, is not to want it.


He promises to furnish me with the desires of my heart, and my heart is overflowing with desires that are not His. The promise in not leverage to get what I want. The promise is for Him to replace the ungodly appetites that are pervasive and persuasive, with a zeal to passionately pursue Him and all He has designed for my life.


So this is the fight within me–To get what I want, or to want Him more. To try and make it happen myself, or WAIT for Him.


One rises triumphant, while the other dies–His will or mine? The struggle is slight in comparison to the One Who sweated blood in the garden of Gethsemine, but the prayer is the same.


“Nevertheless, not my will, but Thy will be done.”

 

I have not yet resisted to the point of shedding of blood in my striving against sin. (Heb 12:3-4) Yet, I cry. I weep. I struggle for a year. The potter and the clay. I, the clay, struggling to remain pliable in the potter’s hands. The struggle is not void of pain, but I am getting stronger, stronger at yielding. And so is the desire for Him. An increased hunger, a desperation, a burning desire for Him is becoming stronger and stronger, until I can sing, sincere, honest and true…

♫ You ALONE are my hearts desire

and I long to worship Thee…

You alone are my Strength my Shield

To You alone may my spirit yield…

You alone are my heart’s desire,

and I long to worship Thee… ♫

For one month following this year of wrestling, I carry a heavy burden. One that compels me. Everyday after school, I go into my mother’s closet. I fall to my knees, and I pray and I weep for my husband that I do not have. I know the void in a soul the absence of a father could hollow out. I travail for a daddy for Baby Girl, with hope God will provide.


Meanwhile, the moment I get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping me along. If I don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does my praying in and for me, making prayer out of my wordless, aching groans. The Spirit knows me far better than I know myself, He keeps me present before God… He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.  

(Romans 8:26-27)


For one month, this is my routine, cry out to Him in the quiet dark quarters of a closet. Until one day, God sends a messenger.


I never saw her before and I never saw her again. Just after service’s end, as I linger in the pew, she taps me on the shoulder. She begins, “Don’t worry about your husband.”


In an instant, the thought unspoken, runs through my mind and my heart sinks, “I don’t have a husband. She’s crazy.”


She continues into the next moment, before I am able to utter a sound, “Because I have someone for you and he will be the desire of your heart.”


I am astonished and hopeful. Can I hold on to this word? Should I?


It would not be long after my heart became wholly His, that He would send a man to love me as Christ loves. There would not be much time pass from when I became completely content belonging only to Him, that He would send me someone else to whom I was to belong.


Unbeknownst to me, during dinner the last night of camp, next to me sat, the man whom God was to send to me, to be my best friend, my lover and the daddy to Baby Girl and 3 more babies after. As God was beginning this great work in my heart, there He had my husband-to-be, already by my side quietly tucked away, yet plain to see. God waiting for the right time to reveal my gift to me.


Our story is a love story that He has written, that He is still writing. It is filled with joys and laughter and heartache and tears. As two kids get married, with already a young one in tow, we had no idea of the places we would walk through, and what it would take to keep standing, how we would grow, and what we would learn. But as we live to serve Him, He has remained faithful, as the process of becoming one flesh, though a difficult one, proves a beautiful one.


From hereafter begins our story…

Read: My Story Part 1

Read: My Story Part 2

Read: My Story Part 3

Read: My Story Part 4