by Noah Clay
One day, this runaway train finally crashed when I approached the object of my affection and the boy I thought was my new boyfriend. I had never had a boyfriend before, so I wasn’t completely sure how the process and rules worked. It seemed normal, then, that this mutual “friend” of ours would set us up through text messages. He claimed he was with the boy he had been advising me on and that this boy wanted me to be his girlfriend but was too afraid to ask me.
As anyone would expect, I poured my entire heart into this idea and gleefully texted back that of course I would be this boy’s girlfriend. The mutual friend assured me that he let this boy know and that this boy was very happy to now be dating me. The next day, I saw this boy at school while I waited in the lunch line. The lunch line set the perfect mood for me to woo my new boyfriend with the poetry of my love. So, I looked at him so full of confusion and absent of passion and allowed these words to cry out from within my heart.
“So, umm, [friend] said we’re dating now, I guess. So, um, like, I guess we’re, um, are we, um, you know, dating? Right?”
The panicked look of pure bewilderment he returned in response should have been enough for me to understand that some awful misunderstanding had occurred. But as optimistic desperate as I was, I needed to be sure to really grind this thing down into the dirt. So, I played the last card in my hand: pity.
“Oh, I mean. It’s ok. You don’t have to worry if you don’t want to tell anyone. I’ll keep it a secret.”
“We’re not dating.”
“What do you mean? But, [friend] said that you asked me to be your girlfriend. He said you were just nervous. I told him I said yes to you.”
The look in his eyes was enough. I didn’t have to hear the words he said after that, which was good because I didn’t. I couldn’t.
Everything was a blur as it all set in for me.
Chapter 14b
Up until this point, I was able to rationalize in my mind why I was a star to anyone and everyone who encountered me. I could truly convince myself that I was irresistible and unattainable: that everyone wanted to be me or be with me, but no one could.
Deep within my heart, I think I knew this wasn’t true all along. But, I would think back on that wild child with her crazy hair sticking out in every direction. I remembered her meowing the night away, shrieking as she ran from elder to elder at the family Christmas party. I knew she wouldn’t take no for an answer, so I told myself that I shouldn’t either. After all, I was her.
I think.
Chapter 15
The summer came and went as I did with it. I’m sure I went to a camp or did something with my youth group, but it didn’t stand out to me. I’m not sure that this speaks as much to my perception of the summer as it does my perception of the events that transpired afterward.
After the disaster of the year prior, you’d think I would have learned my lesson. But you could call me candy, because I was a sucker for pain. Or, maybe it was something deeper. Maybe it was a greater problem, part of a much bigger cry for help. That sounded crazy, though, so one would believe it. At least, I thought no one would believe.
But there he was. He was tall, tan, and so handsome to fifteen year old me. He ran and played baseball, so my small-town heart couldn’t slow its beating when it learned this man was interested in me. I had plans to ask him to a dance, so a mutual friend decided to test the waters.
She came back with great news for me. While he wasn’t able to attend the dance due to a prior commitment, he wanted me to still go with friends and have a good time. Then, he said he wanted my phone number, because he didn’t want this to keep him from really getting to know me. While I wish I could say I played it cool, I didn’t.
At all.
We immediately began texting back and forth, sharing our hopes, dreams, fears, and otherwise boring lives. He thought I was pretty. I thought he was handsome. My parents thought he was horrible.
They just didn’t know him the way I did. They didn’t understand. My parents have always been very strict and had a rule that my phone was left downstairs at night, and my parents were allowed to look through it at any time. So, this policy provided my parents with the perfect opportunity to get to know this boy.
I argued, though, that my parents were missing the context of conversations we had in person, outside of texting. My phone only conveyed a very one-dimensional black and white picture of two people who were very colorful. We were full of life and full of color, but my parents didn’t care. And looking back, I can’t say I blame them.
The first few weeks were great, as he got to know me and all the things he thought I did perfectly. I was perfect to him, and he could be worked on enough that I could handle him. His little flaws were understandable and reasonable. After all, they only emerged when I provoked him. I was really just getting what I deserved. Right?
The good thing was that I caught on pretty quick. The bad news was that there was a lot to catch on, too. I could never possibly remember all the rules, guidelines, limits, etc. I certainly thought I could, though. So, I kept trying harder.
It was never enough, though. I was never enough. I continued to forget the rules and do things he’d commanded me not to. Really, I deserved the treatment he was giving me. He had been more than fair and given me so many chances to get it together and show that I was a woman deserving of his love. I never did, though. I just kept messing things up: ruining our friendship and ruining his life. Luckily, he was so gracious and kind with my mistakes and continued to give me chances to improve.
This pattern continued on, ebbing and flowing. Our friendship accelerated as quickly as it came crashing back down to Earth. And most times, it was my fault. I knew better than to provoke him or upset him, but something in me wanted more. I wanted what could be instead of what was, and I dreamed of a day that I could see all my hopes for us come to fruition.
That day never came, though. In its place came other, darker, days. I'll never forget the first time he sent me a text message asking for me to send him nude pictures of myself. I had left my phone downstairs for the night, as was the requirement from my parents, and luckily that night had not been one in which they had done an audit of my phone. I almost wish they would have, though, because things may have ended much differently.
The past is the past, though, and that message went unread until my eyes crossed it. I noticed that I had a message from this man we've been talking about and felt my heart skip a beat. He had sent me a message, reaching out to me, without me initiating it or approaching him. This meant that he was thinking of me. And thinking of someone is the first step on the road to caring for someone.
I quickly pulled my phone off the charger and took it upstairs with me while I got ready for the day. This is another thing that probably led to my heartbreak. Had I not been so prideful, so arrogant, with my life, my parents might have seen that darkness in my eyes as it clouded my vision and clouded my heart. I was, though. So, I accepted what came to me as a result.
When I opened the message, I instinctively gasped and became nauseous. This man had just asked me to send naked pictures of myself to him. But then it got worse. No, he didn't just accept my lack of a response. Of course he didn't. And, of course he didn't think rationally that I might not have even seen the message. No. He proceeded to send a long string of messages about how I didn't care about him since I hadn't answered. He told me that he couldn't trust me and couldn't talk to me. He told me I wasn't worth talking to anyway and that he wouldn't miss me. He told me he, and any other man, deserved better than the treatment I gave him. He told me any man deserved more than me.
I read these messages and did the only logical thing I could imagine to quell my nerves and impending trip to the nearest trash can or toilet. I texted him back. Of course I texted him back. This shouldn't be a surprise to you at all by this point. I didn't want to see it or admit it, but I was so broken and in such need of attention that even this didn’t drive me away. It didn’t even wake me
up to the horrors of what abuse actually was.
I reasoned that as long as he wasn’t hitting me or raping me, I wasn’t being abused. So, it must be my fault that I wasn’t learning. And, his words must be true. So, it was up to me to suck it up and reach out to him: to apologize for acting in such a way that would drive him to such anger.
I now see that all those thoughts and feelings I had about my shortcomings and his superiority were lies based on control and abuse. I see that I was basing my entire life on a lie fed to me by a man who had no conception of the truth. I lived my life for a man who didn’t even care if it continued. After all, I was easily replaceable. No one else could mess everything up worse than I did.
But at that point in my life, I didn’t see or understand any of the things I do now. So, I was both thrilled and relieved when I received a response to my message. This man accepted my apologies for not responding sooner and agreed to overlook it that time. With that established, knowing he was willing to take me back, I wanted to address the greater issue in this all.
I quickly informed him that under no circumstances would I be sending him nude pictures of myself. I didn’t believe in that, and I still don’t. So, if our friendship and anything more to come depended on my cooperation in that regard, we wouldn’t make it very far. He responded that he had been with a friend who thought it would be a funny joke. Why he didn’t follow up to tell me that, I’m not sure. But, his story seemed legitimate at the time, so I didn’t question the details. He’d taught me to not do that.
So, we moved forward through the motions of talking, fighting, silence, and talking. It was a vicious cycle, but I didn’t know any better. I had no other experience with men or dating. I didn’t know what it looked like when a man had an interest in you, particularly a God-fearing, kind man. Inasmuch, I accepted this behavior as normal and clung to my need for something that brought so much pain to not only me but those around me.
It was only a matter of time until it happened again. Once again, I was told a friend had taken his phone to be funny after hearing about it happening the first time. I’m not sure why, but I believed him. He actually apologized this time, so there was no way he was abusing me. Abusers don’t ever accept they are wrong and apologize. I thought.
Months of this behavior went by before he opened up to me and began to truly care for me. I’ll never forget the day I thought I knew that he cared and that I was actually special to him. I’ll never forget, because he did something so special to show me. Right there in front of everyone in our school, he declared how much he cared for me with one simple gesture.
He pushed me into a row of lockers.
We were walking side by side, laughing about a joke I’ll never remember. I only remember him telling it to me and that I thought he was funny. I don’t remember the words, because I was so caught up in the actions of the moment. He looked at me with that sideways smile, confident as always, and afraid of nothing. I laughed and nudged him with my elbow.
He laughed and pushed me with the entire side of his body into a row of lockers. I laughed, because I was sure he did it to be funny. He did it, because he cared for me. So, I nudged him again, and joking asked him to “stop it.” He laughed back, said I had asked for it, and did it again. I asked again for him to stop. He mocked me. He pushed me again.
I was so elated that I told my friends, who thought he was great, that he really liked me. It was the moment this man laid his hands on me and pushed me with the full force of his body that I thought he loved me. It was the moment he hurt me that I thought he cared. And, my friends agreed.
Luckily, he didn’t do this anymore, because it signaled the beginning of the end. Shortly after, he completely lost what patience he’d had with me. He told me that he was tired of me. I didn’t care about him and just wanted to add drama and difficulty to his life. I wanted to make him look bad in front of his friends but give nothing to show for it. He didn’t want me, and no one else would either. I knew, because he told me.
I did what any teenage girl would do in that situation. I cried, hid it from my parents, and quoted some angst-filled song lyrics to him. Then, I cried some more, because he had taught me to believe I should.
Chapter 15b
I decided that I'd never actually kill myself, because I felt that would ruin my testimony. I was involved in a plethora of clubs, teams, and other things at my school as well as several ministries at my church. I didn't want those I'd ministered to feeling lost and hopeless when the one girl who seemed to have it all together gave up.
However, I prayed almost every single day that God would give me a terminal illness, let me die in a car crash, not wake up, or some other form of a life with him, separated from this Earth. The pain I felt was overwhelming and I simply couldn't fight anymore. I was giving up, because I had nothing else to hang on to.
I had learned that God was faithful, but people weren’t. So, to say I grew homesick would be similar to calling the oceans a couple of puddles. I longed for a place I had only read in a book and felt in my heart. I knew it was true and that it was real. Mostly, I knew it was better than Earth.
So, every night, I found myself begging God to bring me home. I was made for worship and eternity shared with him in Heaven. So, why wasn’t he bringing me home? If God really loved me, why wouldn’t he want me to come home with him? I felt that God was being selfish.
Really, though, I was being selfish. I didn’t realize and didn’t accept that God had a plan for me so much greater than the plan I had for myself. I wanted to die so I could go to Heaven, but I should have wanted to live so others could, too. For if we all went to Heaven right now, a lot of souls would remain lost in spite of God’s desire and plan to bring them to salvation.
God further showed me that he was not selfish at all. I would have known that if I had actually taken the time to listen to the message he had already given me in his word. I was seeking quick answers, though, and serving God fully and truly was a lifelong endeavor.
Still, I allowed little bits to slip through when they didn’t inconvenience me.
One verse I’ll always remember from this time in my life is Luke 22:32 where God’s own son tells his disciple Simon Peter (yes, the very man who denied him three times), "But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And, when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers."
Let me break that down a little bit. God sent his son to Earth to die for the sins of all mankind. When his son, Jesus, gets here, he’s treated pretty crappy. I’m not gonna’ lie. Jesus makes some close friends along the way who study with him and help him to spread the gospel. One of these friends, arguably one of the closest, decides that as soon as Jesus dies, this friend will pretend to not even know Jesus. That’s some shady stuff right there. And, you better believe Jesus called him out on it.
However, the way Jesus calls him out is really subtle. In fact, it’s so subtle that Simon Peter has no idea who Jesus is talking about. Jesus literally says to Simon Peter that Satan is trying to step in on their flow. Simon Peter responds that he’s ready to go to the ends of the Earth for Jesus. Jesus picks up on Simon Peter’s stubbornness here and spells it out really simply. Simon Peter will deny even knowing Jesus three times.
Before even dropping this bombshell, though, Jesus decides to drop a tremendous amount of grace. Knowing that Simon Peter is about to betray him, Jesus first says that he is praying for Simon Peter’s restoration. Yeah, that’s right. Before Jesus even tells Simon Peter what’s going to happen, he extends grace to cover it.
Jesus tells Simon Peter that he is praying for him. Jesus shows that even when we are our worst, God wants to give us his best. So, he sends Jesus, so full of grace and full of mercy. Jesus saw Simon Peter in his sin but made sure that it was clear Jesus loved him in spite of it. Jesus calls us out on our sins, because they are what separate us from him. He loves us so much, though, that he is already pulling us out of the muck and mire while he guides us.
In studying this verse and the passage surrounding it, I realized that no matter what I do or how far away I fall, God waits to restore me and bring me back to him. God wants us to be in community with him, making us to worship him. He has to cleanse us and make us new, but he does it gladly and readily.
Part of our response is making disciples. God didn’t let me die for the same reason he didn’t let Christ stay in Heaven. He needed me to be part of a much bigger plan to save his people. Granted, I won’t have anywhere near the impact Christ did. But, I’m not supposed to. We aren’t supposed to.
We’re only supposed to serve and seek God in such a way that we grow so close to him and so rooted in all he is that we point others toward him. It’s not about us, and it never has been. It’s always been about God: his grace and his glory.
So, quit trying to steal yourself away from him.
You won’t win.
He already has.
Chapter 16a