No Helpless Lover
This is a confession. A realization. This is a story. And it hasn’t ended yet.
For the past seven years I have sought a possessive, jealous love in people and found rejection. I sought it in the supernatural beings found in literature, hoping to find that love vicariously through the characters. For years I dreamed of vampires, werewolves, hell, even demons to find a love that would so consume me with the truth that I did not belong to myself, but to another.
I’ve been just another woman to whom is marketed thousands upon thousands of romance novels, all loaded with these jealous possessive lovers, and we women feast upon these stories. We have a craving to be consumed by a love so terrible. A craving to belong to someone in such a way that it overpowers who we are.
For years I have been running after this love. Reading about it in tons of books, breaking my heart over and over again as I tried to bind myself to these fictional characters. I hoped against hope that I would meet someone who would fulfill this longing in me. Against better judgment, I clung to the hope that a man could be this for me. A flawed, human man could consume me.
And yet there, all along, was Christ, crying out before the Throne,
SHE BELONGS TO ME.
Crying out before the Gates of Hell
SHE BELONGS TO ME
I was begging, dreaming for a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me from those that hated me, to be the rescue from a life longing and empty of such a love.
I punished myself, hated myself for wanting such a consuming love. People told me it was not of God to desire such things, that it was a dirty wrongful thing to want to be so consumed by another. I was heartbroken and torn, because I knew this to be my heart, not my flesh, and I sobbed because how could such a love be wrong?
And here, here all this time was My Lover, the Christ, the Son of God, who wanted me wholly, completely unto Himself and for no other. He had a love for me that could consume and possess me and be the answer to the cry of my heart.
And it was there all along, because he’s the one gave it to me.
I have a craving to be consumed by a jealous, possessive love. And God is a jealous, possessive lover. He does not stand idly by and observe anniversaries. He does not just show affection.
This is a Great Love. An All Consuming Love. A Passionate Love.
He stood before the Throne and interceded. He stood before the God of the Universe, and as I stood in my chains and squalor, tears streaking down my face, he stood and proclaimed,
“I have cried out for my love, that you may not condemn her to the isolation of depravity. I have stood here before you and declared her as mine, and therefore out of reach to the jackals of hell. She is mine, I have claimed her, none can touch her.
She cannot be taken from me. She is beyond the power of this court, I have chosen her as my own. And I declare her as True, as Blameless, as Pure as the Driven Snow, as My Own, My Beloved.”
And here I am, lost and fighting and desperate for this love. I have been full of despair that I could never have this, that everyone would despise me for desiring such a love,
And don’t you see? This is the love he offers. This is the only love he offers.
It’s All Consuming or Nothing.
There is no God of Kindness, of some small Affection, or Tenderness.
God’s love is a Passionate Love, a Desperate Love, a Consuming Love.
A love that has fought to the death for you. A love that has come streaming in as the Knight in Shining Armor. A love that has taken the shot.
This is love. This is the love of God.
And it was there all along.
I’m falling apart tonight because of this. All I can see is that scene. The scene of my rescue. How could I have missed this all these years?
It was right there, all along.
I’d written a fairy tale of redemption, of my own story. And yet I neglected to see how deep and how desperately my heart has been fought for.
I’ve got some revision to do.
Christ is not some pining lover who longs for your return. He’s a Warrior Lover, hell bent on rescue of the one who is His.
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