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  • Writer's pictureLaura Kae

Will you do it for love?

I wrote this story several weeks ago and was somewhat reluctant to share it because of the poem it ends with. It is so dark. I do not want anyone to think it is how I feel about my life, yet this blog is clearly a blog of internal conversation and emotion. The internal experience of the human existence. I have realized if I do not share this story, I cannot move on to the next, so here is what I had previously written:

“Will you do it for love?” Isn’t that the most tantalizing question you have ever heard? This is how God used that question to change my life.

The young woman stood at the foot of a high rise office building. She needed a break from her office. Apparently though two walls of her office were entirely composed of windows, one overlooking northern Virginian suburbia and the other giving her a fantastic view of the receptionist’s desk across the hall, she still felt cramped. She needed to get out. She needed to get away. She needed to pray. The truth is her cushy job was beginning to get to her. She loved many of its comforts. She felt important there. There was identity in all the work surrounding her. She was doing well. She had plenty of disposable income. She was on her way up, but something told her it was time to think about a change. A big change.

As she talked to God about whether she should leave, He asked her a clear question, “Will you do it for love?” The young woman was very confused. She did not even know she did not know what love was, which was why she was confused by the question. She had some vague idea it was what people who got married had for one another. She never understood people who got married. Why would anyone do such a thing? Waste their whole life on someone else? Was God trying to tell her she was going to get married? She could not get married now. She would be at least fifty before she worked through all her emotional issues so she could trust a man enough to even consider such a thing.

“Will you do it for love?” He asked again. His voice was stronger than she ever heard it. She was confused. It wasn’t that people had not tried to love her. She simply did not know how to receive such a thing. She never needed help. She never wanted anyone to care. She was an expert pusher-awayer. As a little girl, she would stand on the playground with blood pouring down her legs from her wounded knees. Even with her obvious wound, her playmates had to convince her to be helped. She did not need anyone to help her. She was better on her own.

The young woman’s knees still bore the scars of her childhood independence. Help? Why? Maybe a good reason would have been having fewer scars to carry throughout her life. Now she had this wall within her. A wall so tall she knew no one could ever scale it. Not herself trying to get out or someone trying to get in. The question of whether she ought to be in a relationship with a man or woman was irrelevant to her, she knew God’s law prevented one and the wall prevented the other.

So she stood confused because she had no idea what love was. She did not pretend to value it either. She valued herself, her career, her independence and her name. She scoffed at people who valued something so stupid as friends.

But the question tantalized her. What could be as good as love? Who could truly turn down such a promise? So she decided to leave. She did not know where she was going or what she would do, but she would do it for love. So God took her by the hand and began to lead her on a journey of healing. He never helped her climb over the wall. He led her right through it. The way was super painful. It would be over a year before she reached what she would later refer to as rock bottom. It hurt like, well, like a really hot place. Eventually she would write a blog she named in faith, someday the walls would come tumbling down. But for the months and years following her decision to give up her career for love, the wall seemed to disappear as she experienced the intense pain it represented.

In recent years those walls have started tumbling. A few weeks ago, she wrote a poem. Not representative of how she always feels about love, but representative of how she feels when she gives in to her selfish self and longs for the days when she was independent and alone. It is how she feels when she stands conflicted because she knows love has nothing to do with what she desires and everything to do with laying down her life for everyone around her.

I hate the love that binds me to thee. It suffocates, strangles, kills I hate God called me to this life Without purpose in all this strife. I hate my life.

I hate my life because I have learned to love. I hate this feeling all because It’s selflessness just won’t let go. I wished it’d die, I wish – oh, no! I hate this life.

My strangled cry remains the same. I hate I hate I hate I hate I hate the love that binds me to thee Destroys my independence, self. I hate my life!

I hate my life! It’s not my own. He bought it with the price of His own. I hate my life He has called me to I hate I hate I hate [that] I love you.

I hate I pray for you every hour. I hate I hate I hate I hate. God forgive me. I hate the chains that bind me to thee.

May my Self die and may it be Christ alone who lives in me…

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