I'll Meet You Where You Are

I guess it was my unconsolable sniffles that beckoned my husband from the other room. He found me on the floor of our spare bedroom, a sea of wilted flowers, crumpled ceremony programs, and leftover packages of M&M's with '8.28.21' proudly printed on their shell, swirling in chaos around me.

You see, about a week ago I felt that I had finally mustered up the courage (and let's be honest here, the emotional strength) to tackle the project of sifting, packing, and storing away the sweet somethings left over from our wedding day. (I truly felt like I was singing the "Ho-ly Spir-it Act-ivate" song as I turned the doorknob of our cluttered spare bedroom. Thank you, Tik Tok, for helping me pinpoint and interpret my emotions.) And the truth is, I wasn't ready.

I'm convinced that those of you who have been married are familiar with this feeling. A single day that you have dreamed of and prayed for since you were a tiny girl, a day that you have poured your heart, and your happy tears into flies by in a single blink, and as the whirlwind dies down and the celebrations conclude, the glitter begins to settle around you and there you are left on the floor of your spare bedroom. A sea of wilted flowers, crumpled ceremony programs, and leftover packages of M&M's floating in your puddle. (And yes, your husband will look at you like you are crazy. This is totally normal.)

"What's the matter, babe?" he asked, as he peered upon my mess.

I shoved a few more memories into a plastic bin and crumpled in defeat, "I just really miss this day, and I really miss being your bride," I said.

The look of pure confusion on his face made me second guess my response, but what he said next validated my heart and the aching that consumed it.

"But you weren't just my bride on that day? You will forever be my bride!"

Of course, I knew this, but to hear him say it consoled my spirit.

He scooped me off the floor and as I lingered there in the familiar place in his arms, my heart couldn't help but recognize a very significant parallel. Through my husband's display of love for me, I was gently reminded of the manner in which God loves his children, too.

Let me explain.

Logan found me on the floor amidst my mess, and when I told him what was on my heart, he pulled me to my feet, wrapped his arms around me, and reminded me that being his bride was a life's time beyond a ceremony and a single day. In the same way, the Lord will meet you in your mess and as you tell Him what is on your heart, He will pull you to your feet, wrap you in His arms and remind you that you are His. A calling that lasts an eternity beyond your most righteous day and your most disgraceful day.

And that, my friends, is the best news ever.

The God that is with you on your mountaintop is the same God that is with you in your valley, and when your seasons change, He simply doesn't. He loves without fail, without condition, and without ceasing, and even when you call yourself mediocre and messy, He calls you worthy, loved, and made new. Where you find brokenness, shame, fear, and doubt within you, He offers healing, forgiveness, courage, and promises. There is no bump in your road that He doesn't anticipate, and no mountain in your way that He cannot move. He is all-knowing, all-powerful, and supremely good. (Let me quickly apologize to the English teachers of my past for this double negative, but) He simply cannot not be good. He will meet you right where you are, on the floor of our spare bedroom amidst a sea of wilted flowers, crumpled ceremony programs, and leftover M&M's, and remind you that what you see as the most beautifully blessed season of your life fading into a memory, is not the end of His beautifully, blessed story of you.

"You're so right," I said, embracing my groom just a bit tighter.

But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.

They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

- Isaiah 40:31