Just the Way You Are

This is a letter I recently wrote. It is very raw and very real, but I'm sharing it in the hopes that you'll be able to see the what God has been doing in my life. And how, if you just let Him, He will teach you incredible lessons about His will for your life and His bigger picture if you just let go and listen.

You are a lot of things. Friend. Son. Uncle. Student. Musician. Lyricist. Hugger. Encourager. There is one thing you are not, though. Not to me, at least: boyfriend.

It took me long enough to realize it, didn’t it? It’s been almost a year: a year of trying to make you into something that you are not. I so desperately wanted you to fill a specific place in my life. Just like a child trying desperately to solve a jigsaw puzzle, I was trying to alter your curves and edges to fit into the place I thought that you should.

You displayed so many of the necessary characteristics: you were the right color, had three peninsulas and a rounded corner… but your proportions were off, ever so slightly. I could warp the cardboard and shove you temporarily into that place I was scraping to fill, but it was obvious something was not right. Despite my manipulations and best attempts to make you fit, there were still gaps. You were aching to burst free, to find the place where you actually fit.

But what was I supposed to do? Sure, there were hundreds of other puzzle pieces waiting on the sideline, all looking for their place as well. And yes, one of those pieces was the one I was searching for, the one with the exact color, proportions, curves and edges to fit where I needed it. And somewhere inside of me I knew that when I found it the picture would come together beautifully, with none of the gaps or wrinkles left from trying to shove you into that place. However, patience has never been my strong suit. I didn’t want to go through the time and effort to find that piece I needed when I had one that was almost an exact match right in front of me. Almost.

I was missing something, though. As cliché as it may be, I was missing the bigger picture. It never occurred to me that while you wouldn’t fit where I wanted you to fit, you were… you are… still integral to the picture of my life. There is a place in my story where you fit perfectly. A spot only your colors and curves and edges will fulfill. I still need you, just not in the way I once thought I did.

So this is my apology. I am sorry for trying to make you into that one thing you are not. I am sorry for repeatedly trying to shove you into the missing space in my puzzle. I am sorry for bending your cardboard and warping your picture. But, most of all, I am sorry for not realizing your potential to fit perfectly elsewhere in the picture of my life and for not realizing that your unique curves, edges and colors are a beautiful and necessary exactly the way they are.

I've Got Friends

God’s timing is one of those things that always fascinates and amazes me.

As you may (or may not) know, I am a recent college graduate. As you may also know, as such I have everything figured out. Okay… that’s a lie. But one thing I have figured out that there is no messing with God’s timing.

My final year of college was very different from the three before. In that one year of school I built some of the most sincere, deep, genuine, close and trusting friendships that I’ve ever experienced. God put some really incredible people in my life almost all at once and they completely changed my world. They changed how I thought, how I felt, how I acted, how I loved. These people entered my life and immediately gained my trust and became a support system that I had never known outside of my family. They learned about me, I learned about them. We spent countless hours together and made even more memories.

And then, graduation happened. And all of a sudden I was moved back in at home and none of those friends were with me. And I was confused. Why would God put me in this situation? Why would He fill my life with these people, these boys and girls who had become like family to me, and then yank me out? I didn’t feel ready for real life, much less without these friends I had come to rely on and expect to see regularly. How would I function without their hugs, their advice, their company? But God’s timing is perfect. He knew that I had taken what I needed from them and that it was time for me to go off in the world, seemingly on my own.

It’s like they were my training wheels. They taught me how to live the life that I deserve and want and need. And then, when God saw fit, He took my training wheels off. I’m still in the unsteady phase of riding on my own: the part where I have fear in the pit of my stomach, I feel wobbly on my own two tires, scared that I will fall at any given moment. I still want my training wheels back. But there is one thing that I can be forever grateful for: unlike really learning to ride a bike when my dad eventually let go of the back of the seat, God will never let me go. He will be there, running next to me, holding on to the seat of my bike as I ride through life: never alone.