Achingly Returning

Last night I spoke with an old friend that I had not been in contact with for the last couple years. We were pretty good friends back then. At least I thought so. It seemed though, that ignoring my calls and texts and Facebook writings came as easily as breathing. Obviously I was hurt and saddened by all this. Any time this friend's name came up or a memory with said person passed through my mind I would volley emotionally back and forth between feeling angry and unwanted, undesirable, rejected.

It's interesting though, when I realized that this old friend was initiating conversation, these feelings did flare up, but they were so eclipsed by my excitement of the possibility of renewed friendship that I had to remind myself I was "mad" at this person. I wanted to know why, but at the same time, for the night, it didn't really matter. I hope there's many more chances for dialogue in the near future.

But it's not really the friend that I'm wanting to write about.

During the moments between texts that preceded our phone call, I was amazed at the emotion within me. The desire to cling to this person in a never-ending hug was probably one of my strongest pulls to ever do so. If distance wasn't such an issue I may have done such that. My emotions didn't so much surprise me as they amazed me with a certain revelation.

At one moment I saw a picture of me returning to the throne room of God. By the look on my face and the split second of feeling my heart, I realized I was coming back not to draw near, but because I had done wrong. I looked so shameful, but at the same moment I was able to feel what my Creator was feeling. It was how I felt about my friend, except stronger. As disappointed and hurt as I was about my friend's rejection of me, I was a 100x's more rejoicing at their return and aching to be ever nearer. I felt as God was telling me that's what it's like when we return to Him.

There's a song I really enjoy by the Vespers. It's called "Will You Love Me" and it's basically talking about returning to God asking if He still loves. We know the answer, but it's hard to believe sometimes. But He's there. Waiting. Forgiving. Loving. In the moment of shame He silences fears with tenderness and a giant hug.

I know this returning to Him doesn't excuse me from anything I've done. As I will be soon seeking to root out some hurts with my friend for the sake our friendship, God will bring us back to what we did in order to heal the wounds. And I'm glad. It's what will make the friendship good. It's what makes the trust come back. It gives hope.

I don't know if this made sense to any of the five people who read my blogs, but I hope you realize how desperately God wants you, and how ready He is for you to jump into His arms.