Today for My 500 Word post I’m hooked up with Bonnie Gray over at Faith Barista. Her writing prompt for this week is the word “Beloved”.
Doesn’t every little girl want to grow up to be someone’s beloved? I know I did. I’m a sappy romantic at heart. We were all created, men and women, to desire to be greatly loved, prized and treasured.
It’s the central theme of fairy tales, books, movies, photography…as I think about it, all of art is about being someone’s love, loving another person, the angst of love. Love is all around us. Even nature is vibrant with the shades and shadowing of love.
Where we humans get in trouble is looking for love in all the wrong places. How love was or was not modeled in our homes when we were children will most likely determine our approach to relationships. Were we loved and valued or were we ignored? Did we hear words of encouragement or were our young ears blasted with abusive words? Were we faithfully disciplined or dismissed as an inconvenience?
Do most of us even know what a healthy relationship should look like? Do we know the warning signs of abuse and neglect? Are we so wounded that we settle for whatever we can get?
No relationship is perfect. Regardless of what all the songs on the radio say. Another person does not “complete me” or make me “whole”. Everybody is dysfunctional…just in differing degrees.
In my drama- filled teenage years my dad was in law enforcement. A little intimidating to the young men who may have wanted to date me. I was a cute little thing, shy, appeared happy most of the time. If you have read any of my previous posts, you know my dad was an alcoholic. Our life revolved around his affair with the bottle. My mom coped and did the best she knew how, all the while trying to hide the family secrets.
From the chaos of my home, a silent neediness was being woven into my emotions. I needed to be loved. I needed to belong to someone. I believed the lie that I would be a nobody if I wasn’t wanted or loved. I made some really poor choices out of that desperation.
Married at 19, I moved from my parent’s house into our home. I was unprepared for the responsibility and the emotional roller coaster of marriage. There were times my husband would walk into the house, take one look at me and ask…”You want to run don’t you?” I would slowly, reluctantly nod my head yes. I am grateful the Lord held me steady and I never made the choice to leave
Eventually, the truth that I am God’s Beloved soaked through all the layers of fear and heartache, shame and regret. I took the choke hold off of my husband. He could not humanly fulfill all the needs I had. It was impossible for him to fix all that was so broken from my childhood. I came into our marriage a bottomless black pit of neediness and pain. Only one Person could take on the mess I was and bring me to wholeness.
I end with one of my favorite Scriptures that I go back to when I need to be reminded of Whose I am…Who I belong to. I delight in the poetry of the Message version of Psalm 18:16-19.
The Message (MSG)
16-19 But me he caught—reached all the way
from sky to sea; he pulled me out
Of that ocean of hate, that enemy chaos,
the void in which I was drowning.
They hit me when I was down,
but God stuck by me.
He stood me up on a wide-open field;
I stood there saved—surprised to be loved!