"He" is easier to say than "I"

He looked across the table at her. They both shifted a little in their seats, curious as to who would break the silence. "I know this isn't necessarily easy," He finally said, "but I'm not willing to give up and roll over just yet. I want this to work more than I can say." She was either speechless, or she was weighing her words, which of these, he couldn't figure out. She looked down at the tiles on the table, tracing one of the patterns with her finger. She wasn't sure if she was ready to be loved by him, he wasn't sure if he could live without her.

He gazed at the soft brown locks that fell across her face, in all her beauty though, it was her spirit that he most loved. She was vivacious! She was a lover of life. Everything that she put her hand to flourished, even his heart. She looked up from her tile and worked up the courage to look him in the eye. "I just don't know yet."
"You don't have to know tonight. My fear is that you will close the door based on uncertainty. I just want a chance to show you who I am."

Nine months he had watched her. Nine months she had danced with him. Honestly, dancing is dangerous business. Putting your trust in the arms of someone else, putting your body in step with theirs - it had gotten the better of him. In those nine months his desire for her had been fully stirred. She on the other hand, had thought very little about it. She liked dancing with him, but never considered anything more, until last month.

Last month, in the same restaurant, at the same table, she tracing the same tile, he began to share part of his heart with her. It was a safe part that he had shared with many friends before, yet something in his words showed her a part of who he was that she had never before considered. And as she considered, the roller coaster started. The next month was filled with exhilarating ups, and devastating downs. Twice, in the span of the month, she told him that there was no hope for lasting relationship. Twice, in the span of the month, he gave up. But there was something about her that was different, and there was something in him that he had never felt before.

Before, he didn't handle rejection. It wasn't that he didn't handle it well; he just didn't handle it. "Oh well," he would think, "that one didn't work, well, there are plenty of fish in the sea, right?" And the long saga would again begin as he looked for love. But she was different. He didn't quite know what it was.

"Josh, I can't get her out of my mind." Amazingly, Josh was sympathetic. In the past his friends met him with the attitude of "oh, how sweet, you'll grow out of it." But Josh had proven to be a great listener, and an even better advisor. "Man, I've never had trouble moving on, sure I'm hard headed, and I don't always get the hint the first time, but you hit me hard enough, and I'll go away. I don't want to push the issue, but I don't think I can give up on this one." Josh nodded and gave some word of wisdom, though right now across the table from her, he couldn't remember what it was. She had that look in her eye that made him melt.

He put his hand on the table, palm up, her hand met his halfway. "You know," he said, "I have always planned so far ahead in my relationships, shoot, I'm used to picking out the color of my curtains by this point, but honestly, I just want to know what is going to happen next week. I want you to be a part of my tomorrow, we can decide from there what to do next." She smiled tentatively, and caressed his hand lightly, perhaps hoping he wouldn't notice. He did notice. He also noticed she hadn't said "no" this time. Nothing was certain, but as he was coming to realize, nothing ever is.

Love is patient.

No More Shadows

"I hear voices," he confessed.

"Okay, don't anathematize me yet! I swear it isn't schizophrenia!" She stifled a smile, so as not to give the wrong impression.
"Go on, I'm listening."

Something in her eyes convinced him to continue. "I have longed to be in the will of God for so long, and I have tried so hard to hear His voice. If I'm quiet enough, long enough, I hear voices in my mind. Don't laugh! I'm serious. Now it's not a voice per say, but rather a voicing. Like when you read a book, you can tell who is talking by vocabulary, phrasing, so on, so forth; just so, I can hear the voice in my head, and realize it isn't my own original thought."

She nodded, her face serious, but try as she might, she couldn't keep her eyes from smiling. He loved these walks. They would walk her college campus for hours, and they always seemed to pick the strangest topics of discussion. Honestly, he was more to blame for this than she, but she always went along with it.

"Often, I'll feel a leading toward a certain action. For instance, did you know that I strongly considered moving to Canada?" She looked at him incredulously. "Really! I was going to work at a CMA church and finish my seminary education up there. But 'the voice' told me 'no.' I remember being so mad at God after that one. I let Him have a piece of my mind in my journal. 'Just when I start moving in a direction that I feel is right, you close the door on me! It's fine and dandy for you to keep telling me where not to go, I just wish you'd tell me where to go for a change!' I'm so grateful that God didn't strike me down for that one."

"Time after time, I would wait and wait for direction, then after hearing nothing, but feeling a few nudges here and there, I would start to walk in what I was getting, and time after time this 'voice' said no. Well, it's actually more than that - many times this same voice would contradict itself. It would say 'no' then two seconds later, 'yes.' I would pray for clarity, listen longer and harder, and try to make the best decision based on which voice I felt was from God, but I always feared that I was making the wrong choice."

He glanced over at her; her eyes were fixed on the path ahead. "Are you still with me?" He asked. "Yeah, I'm with you." They had passed by the prayer tower four times now. It looked more like the space needle than a prayer tower. From anywhere on campus the spire demanded your attention. Even if you could keep from staring at the gold, white and red, edifice, the eternal torch on top would catch your eye.

"So there I am," he continued, "lying on my bunk in the bus, and I hear 'the voice.' 'Nope, you've missed me again, you need to lay down those plans.' Something in me snapped. 'Ok,' I said, 'I'm not going to listen to you anymore! God if this voice is really from you, you're going to have to find another way to talk to me, because this voice has only ever brought me frustration and pain. I want to be obedient to You, but I'm not willing to make another decision based solely on this voice.'"

It started raining. The ground, already saturated, rejected the sky's sincere attempt to feed it. Everywhere he looked, he saw small ponds beginning to form. He looked over at her to see if she was going to go inside. Instead, she took off her sandals and put them in her backpack. He loved her sense of adventure, and her affection for the outdoors. He followed suit, and both barefoot, the walk continued.

"So the voice spoke again, but this time it said only three words, 'No more shadows.' Immediately I got a picture in my mind of what had been happening. In this picture, I was standing in the middle of a street in an urban downtown. The streets were abandoned; it was just me in the middle of the street trying to get my bearings. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow disappear around one of the buildings. I ran to where I saw the shadow, and when I got there, it and its source had vanished. Confused and frustrated, I looked around, trying to see anything that looked familiar. I stood there until I saw another shadow disappear around another building. I ran, only to find nothing. This pattern continued over and over again. God showed me that this had been my picture of seeking His direction. It always left me frustrated and angry. I realized that this voice was toying with me. It was seeing just how hopeless it could make me feel. So I repeated what I last heard. 'No More Shadows!'"

Five times now; the space needle again passed on their left.

"Since then God has been showing me that He will lead me with His hand, more like how one would lead a dance. I've been stuck in a mentality that God was beckoning to me from my destination, trying to guide me to where He was, into His will. God wanted to dance with me, and I was consumed with getting to the destination. God wanted to enjoy me, and me Him, but I was focused on accomplishment, on finishing. So needless to say it's been an interesting week."

"So how do you tell which voice is God's and which isn't?"

"Well, the best I can decipher, when God speaks to my thoughts, He only confirms what He has already told me through other avenues - through my times in scripture, through my wise counsel, through open doors and desires, and through the Holy Spirit speaking to my heart. I mean, God promised in His word to give me wisdom if I asked for it, right? Yet, here I was making life decisions based on the one voice, rather than seeking counsel. In psalms it says, 'plans fail for lack of counsel, but in a multitude of advisors there is safety.'"

She nodded, as if to say, "I understand." Though she never actually said it. The rain had stopped, the toes were sufficiently muddy, and all was well.