Dear God, please let it not be too late...
Among the many tragedies in Life, one of the greatest is that, sometimes, boys learn their lessons too late. This tragedy is magnified not just because of the effect that this has on those who did wrong (although the effect is great) but because of the effect that this has on the innocent, hitherto perfect one who loves him, who might pay the price of his lessons by carrying around the scar that he has left on her.
How do you mend and heal a broken heart? How do you earnestly try to show that you have indeed learnt your lesson, almost paid the heaviest price imaginable for it, and sincerely work to care, love and heal a person’s broken heart again? How do you win back someone’s trust? Can you even win back someone’s trust? That someone who has always had trouble trusting people, letting him into her heart, allowing him into her life, giving him a special place in her, and forever not allowing anyone else to come close before this. How do I show that seeing that scar on her hurts me as much as it does her, how do I help to carry some of the pain from it, how do I if possible take it all onto myself, and how do I slowly heal and erase that wound and replace it with the brand of Love that we both want?
I did that scar to her. She is perfect, the most wonderful perfect girl I have ever met in my life, and I have met many. She is kind and sweet, loving and giving, generous and big hearted. She is wonderful with babies, has the gentlest patience and nature with them. She is pretty, has the sweetest smile, the most feminine laughter, and the most wonderfully spaced gap toothed grin I’ve ever seen. When I imagine myself with a happy family, she sits royally on the throne as my wife, and I see her as the mother of my kids, and I see myself showering her and bringing breakfast in bed for her. Her girlish laughter and hobbies, her jumping up and down with joy, her traipsing everywhere in those Japanese flip flops, every bit of those, in recollection now, tugs at my heartstrings. Her soft cheeks bob out like Mickey Mouse when she smiles, and her eyes twinkle when she is amused. Oh what I’d give to hear that loud genuine laugh again. She is smart, she is sensible, and she has the quirkiest sense of humour. We have similar outlooks, lifestyles, and even love the same books and music. I love the way she bobs up and down in rock concerts, the way she gazes dreamily out the car window, the way she rocks side to side when she walks, and the little zipped pockets of her Capri pants. I love that extra lump of flesh on either side of her thighs. I love the smells, the sounds, the smiles, the sighs, even the little burps. I love the little lines and bumps, every crease and crevice of her body. She has the nicest shoulders and arms, and the smoothest skin you’d never believe it was not a baby’s. She was … perfect. I loved, and love more with every moment, looking at her, gazing at her face, her lips when she eats.
And she was mine. All mine. And she envisioned the kind of love we’d have was the kind she’s dreamed of all these years, the kind that I had dreamed of all these years. We’d have the most awe inspiring, all encompassing, loving, giving, deep, enriching type of love that we’ve been dreaming of since we could dream of such things. She wanted a man she could trust, whom she could lean on and rely upon, whom she could call her own, and have absolute faith that he’d always do the right thing for them. She wanted a man deserving of the deep type of love she knew she could and wanted to give to the right person. And she thought he was the one, and she WANTED him to be the one, and in spite of the doubts and voices in her head, she prayed, oh how she prayed, and she decided to put her happiness and unblemished record in his hand and took that leap of faith.
And he became the happiest man around. A happier man you never did see, for people commented on his constant smiling, joking and happy ways. He was absolutely overjoyed, filled to the brim with his feelings for her. It gave him no greater joy than to see her laugh, see her smile, to see her being fed well, and see her sleeping beside him, snoring or open mouthed though she might be. He was overwhelmed with joy during their times in Melbourne, and he wished it wouldn’t end. Running around the city, waking up beside her and falling asleep beside her in the greatest city in the world, holding her when she was cold, warming her towels for her, taking photographs with her…he truly did feel complete and blessed, because here he was frolicking with the greatest girl in the world with whom he wanted to marry. The breakfast, the dinners, his favourite restaurants, the wandering around in the cold, breakfast at Miss Marple, her company was perfect in every way, and he could not ask for more. He gazed at her tenderly when she wasn’t aware, and he enjoyed every little touch of her.
But the story is not complete. His character up to that point was still not mature, not firm, and not as developed as it should be. He lacked good sense, was short-sighted and most of all, was not as strong as he should have been. His love for her was strong, and his desire to protect her from the doings of his flaws blinded him, and all he could think of was to shield and shelter her away and keep her wrapped warmly and snugly in his love for her while he put an end to the other issues that had dragged on for far too long. He wanted to keep her away from troubles, just remain happy and bouncy, and let him deal with bad things himself and not let it affect them. And hence, made the wrong choices, choosing to deceive her instead of doing what was good and true. And in doing so, despite her repeated pleas and chances, more than was reasonable or deserved, he did not do the right thing immediately, although he accelerated his external efforts to kill off the reasons for the deceit. And, as such things go, by and by, she found out.
Oh if only he had a time machine, he would do things so differently. For one, he would definitely have done goodbye when he said goodbye, never to entertain in any way anything whatsoever from the past in any form or shape, and never to feel pity, never to feel anything except to keep his eyes on his one true love all along. If only he had stood firm and struck at the iron decisively, he would never have hurt her so badly, never made her suffer so deeply. Right from the start he should have communicated totally openly, shared with her what was happening in all aspects of his life, and not tried to keep her happy and manage it himself. That is not a partnership. He should have never ever entertained any sort of communication and contact with who he had decided to call it quits with, he should have gone completely cold turkey, and he should have kept her in the loop at all times instead of trying to shield her and then risking her finding out and shooting to pieces her priceless trust of him.
But that’s all done and over with. At this point, the damage is done on both parties. The lesson is learnt. And he hopes, with all his heart, with every sinew, fibre and cell in his body, from the external epidermis right down to the marrow, that there is hope yet, that he can hold her, that she can lean her face against his chest, that he may hold her again, pat her head, stroke her hair, peck her face every morning and every night and even in the middle of the night when he wakes while she sleeps, that he may again once again whisper into her ears, that he may be granted sole privileges to her heart, that he may rub her back and give her soothing massages.
He is grateful for this chance to make amends. That is all he aims for now. For just one more chance to show her how much she means to him, to show her that thanks to her he understands what it means to be a man, to be strong firm and steady, to have an resolute and unwavering heart, to show that he knows what love means, what commitment means, and he wants to shower her with appreciation, give her flowers on ordinary occasions, just to be able to gently massage and soothe away the pain and replace it with happy thoughts and happiness again, to bring back that beautiful little girl whom he’d known before and loved so much.
Please God, dear God, please, give us the strength wisdom and capability to carry this out. Thank you for answering my prayers when I needed your hand and touch on this relationship, thank you for keeping us together, for showing me the sign, thank you for this new lease of life, thank you for giving me 1 more chance to make right and amend all my wrongs, thank you for making her generous enough to accept me again, grant us your divine help to slowly heal her pain, to make her right again, to make her happy and bask securely in my love thank you father god. Let me show you how deeply grateful I am, and I shall never fail you nor deviate from your path. Thank you for your guiding healing hand on this relationship. Thank you. Amen.
Chosen One 1 Peter 2:9. This is a wonderful word of encouragement and it reflects the great destiny of us who believe in Jesus. Because God called us “chosen one” we are to be witness to the watching world, not just with our words but also with our actions. The way we run our business, treat our neighbours and nurture our children. How we need the Holy Spirit to make us more like Jesus so that others will see Him because of what they see in you.
