I doubted my path
’til I looked skyward and saw
Orion. All’s right.*
OR
I doubted my path
’til I looked skyward and saw
my guide, Orion.
I doubted my path
’til I looked skyward and saw
Orion. All’s right.*
OR
I doubted my path
’til I looked skyward and saw
my guide, Orion.
I’ve understood
that it can good
when folks doubt
what you’re about.
It forces you
to
feel the thrill
as you
affirm God’s will.
People will see a good situation and either praise and glorify it or, like Iago in Othello, find fault and try to tear it down by small and manipulative ways.
So it is with my wife and my relationship. People tell me that they’ve never seen my wife so happy. They tell me she deserves me, that it’s about time a man came into her life who is worthy of her. They think I’ve inspired her to create her patriotic blog, and to grow her book publishing and consulting business. Yet others find reason to cast doubt on our relationship. They claim that we manipulate each other, that we’re just dishonest in our reasons that we got together.
Often when this happens, I question her, asking why they would say such things. I ask her again (and again and again) if she loves me for me, or if she just loved me and married me for the idea of me, to get someone to work with her, to get the house and the property back.
When I doubt like that, I cast my mind back on what Heavenly Father told me to do, and I immediately feel bad because I know Who led me to her. I know who inspired me to come to Chattanooga, to date her, to make the offer on her former house, to court her, and to marry her. I know who drives me daily to clean up the property, to write, to create, to build the kind of Inspired Life we are growing together.
But still sometimes the doubting words come out and I can tell I hurt her. Yesterday was one of those self-doubting conversations. Early this morning she responded. And I think her words are inspired and insightful. She said:
“People who think you rescued me have no clue who I am. I am the woman who, for over two decades, made up the difference with a husband who racked up debt and couldn’t hold a job that made half of what we needed financially to survive and raise six children. I’m the innovator who created the first online mall, the first article directory, who with God’s help built a six-figure business and still managed to keep a roof over my kids heads when Google killed it. I’m the woman who can monetize a dozen ways from Sunday.
I’m the woman who made it through another divorce and her mother’s death and never lost her faith in God, who was able to forgive and come out with a pure faith that my life was about to get amazing. I’m the woman who is satisfied with simplicity … I was happy with a little apartment I could keep clean and a supervisor to fix things. I’m the woman who lost all the monetary niceties and realizes that they don’t amount to a hill of beans. It’s all just stuff.
Some people think you rescued me. Others might think I rescued you. They think I rescued you from your loneliness, from scouring the Western states for a woman who had depth and strength and wisdom and spirituality and a passion for life that matched your own. They might say I’m the one who introduced you and brought you to a piece of property you love so much you can’t resist working on it every day. They might feel that I brought you to something better than you ever hoped or dreamed of — something to channel all your energy and passion and your love of nature into.
Many might also say that I’m the one who rescued you from lonely nights and days and who loves you like you’ve never been loved before. That I’m the one who builds you up and helps you see the beauty in your uniqueness and who helps you find your tribe. That I’m the one who helps you see that you’re a sexy Greek god and a super model.
In my community of personal growth and self help, many who know both of us may think I’m the one who rescued you from your limited view of yourself, and many of your self doubts and insecurities. They might see that I’m the one who believes in you and believes in us and the miracle that God did in bringing us together.
Who Rescued Us?
The truth is that I’m the one who doubts not, fears not, worries not, questions not, because I know that it really was not you that rescued me. It was not me that rescued you. I see the Finger of the Lord in it all.
Let others say what they will. I know God, and I know what He did. And He is the one who rescued us both and gave us each other. And when you pause, when you stop listening to others, when you dive deep into your heart and soul the way you do, you know it is He who is creating this amazing life for both of us.
It’s time we stop doubting, rehashing and second guessing the past. It’s time we get busy with faith. It’s time we focus on being what God brought us together to be.
She’s right. I know the truth. I know who drives this relationship, why we often get simultaneous inspiration. I know who rescued both of us, even after we’d done all the self work (alone) to get ourselves into good places. When we were ready, He brought us together. I know Who is guiding us, Who is helping us discover, create and deliver our God-given purpose (which, ironically, is to help others discover, create and deliver their inspired messages). I know Who rescued us from being ordinary, Who reveals His Will to us individually and collectively on the daily, and Who is helping us do His will to help His children.
And now I have written a piece that, when people doubt, when people question, when people criticize who we are and why we are together, I can simply say:
I’ve written a blog post on that very topic.
I’ve cooked boxed mac and/
cheese for years, so it’s hard to/
have that skill doubted.
When you must prove all/
you say, you begin to doubt/
everything you’ve heard.
Wherever there’s trust, /
doubt also appears. Expect/
it, then ignore doubt.
I had heard
his rhyming words
before,
espousing how glor-
ious he thought his love.
How she was sent from above.
How she was his true lover.
How he could not imagine another.
And now,
somehow,
he takes up his pen
and again
speaks of his love, sweet.
How she is so neat.
And though this one
is maybe not as fun,
she is not the bummer
as was his love of last summer.
So what am I to believe?
He scarcely took time to grieve
his previous girl
whom (he proclaimed to the world)
was sent to him.
Did she become some whim?
The even deeper question
to this public indigestion
is: Where comes the need to publicly proclaim
about a latest passionate love and flame?
I don’t even want to look
at such posts on Facebook,
because I know I’ll read there
about some new love so true and rare.
Just like we all did last year
about someone who was thought equally dear.
Why does the poet yet again
(as he did back so earnestly then)
feel the need to shout
publicly out
someone he’s now crazy about?
(And it’s not just him.
Many others, seemingly on a whim,
positively state
they’ve found their true mate.)
(And we knowingly smile
and wait awhile
until the new romance starts to fade
like morning dew in a sun-drenched glade).
Why don’t such lovers, instead,
(knowing how emotions so oft are mislead)
watch, wait and see
if the new “we”
(this romantic she plus he)
can make that commitment
which is truly heaven-sent
for eternity?
We can, (and should) I suppose,
publicly disclose
when we are fond of one,
how we, together, have fun.
But to loudly and publicly proclaim
“She’s the ONE!” seems a bit inane.
If this is indeed a love so rare
why not be quiet and keep it hidden there?
At least until it grows and blossoms forth.
At least until love has truly run its course
and we’re ready to shout “S/he and me
will now be us for eternity?”
I, for one, have my doubts
that such proclaimed “true love” will last out,
(just based on experience;
knowing how other ones went.)
Of course, when we hear such a new boast,
we could, I guess, prepare a generic post (or toast):
“OH! You both make such a cute pair!
You and [insert the new love’s name here____].”
That is not at all to say
that the poet should be silent. No way!
We may, in messages between us
expound our full love beyond what ever was.
Such private notes of sweetest passion
put us in Browning’s and Tennyson’s fashion.
Some lovers may in the future find
hope in our quiet proclaimed love divine.
But to place such words out for all to see
Feels like love (and such thoughts) come cheaply.
That it doesn’t really matter who:
We just need someone to publicly woo.
Call me a jaded cynic.
Perhaps it’s true.
But I’ll not mimic
exposing my love to view.
At least ’til I know, and am sure
She’s the one who I’ve searched for.
Then, it would seem quite right
To write a sonnet for our wedding invite.
I never doubted/
the Gospel’s truth. I doubted/
*my strength to live it.
OR
*my faith to obey.