The Edge of His Garment

I wanted to be very intentional with this blog post. The story I am going to SHARE is not 100% my own. I cannot take credit for the BEST parts. For the MIRACLE moments, The glory belongs to God. I may be only 33 years old, but looking back over my short life, if there was ONE thing I was MOST desperate for for years, it was love and affection from a man. I am not sure that it began with the understanding that what I wanted was a husband, but I was hungry for attention. I had bought the lie that I didn’t really need to be married, didn’t need a ring, or a document signifying commitment, but I truly was searching for a man who would adore me. The world paints this picture of relationships, especially to women. We all have an idea of what love looks like. I was not completely certain about what I wanted, but I know now that I wanted someone to love me and I was desperate. This obsession was non-stop. I was on dating apps, texting men I would meet, DMing them, going out to bars with friends, on the hunt all the time, etc. Anything I could do to find someone who would love me the way I wanted to be loved. I had an idea in my head about romance and it was pretty much a fairy tale mixed with some absurd dark fantasies on the side. Of course there were other things that consumed my time and energy like my career, shopping, fun times with friends, family events, but overall, I would say the hunt for a partner was incredibly time consuming. And to make matters worse, I was not completely aware of this. I did not see myself through a lens of truth. All the while, I was completely selfish. Selfish beyond reproach. I was not willing to be patient with any of the men I encountered. As soon as something went “wrong”, I would mentally spiral out of control. Anxiety, depression, insomnia, you name it, I had it. I tried everything. Doctors, therapists, pills, drinking, nothing stopped the feelings inside. The yuck, I call it, was thick. I was obsessed with my image. I worked out and tried to eat less, tried to be “skinnier”. Spent money on my hair, makeup and outfits. I drove myself into credit card debt, perfecting this image of beauty so I could get noticed, but I never truly felt beautiful. I never felt loved. My worth was only seen through the eyes of what others said about me, particularly men. If some guy, who I’d never met, told me I was beautiful on tinder, that mattered a WHOLE LOT. This obsession with men was deep seated. Fear of abandonment began in me at a young age. As I dove deeper into the need for fulfillment, I realize now, that I was not truly aware of my disfunction. When I spent time getting physically involved with men, a lot of emotions came out of me in strange ways and at strange times. I was not of sound mind to understand how my choices were causing me more confusion and pain. I didn’t even know it, but I was becoming more and more empty. And I was continuing to attempt to give out of an already empty cup. My self esteem was low, I was paranoid about everything, I read into 2 sentence text messages like they were epic novels of great depth. Past wounds were buried so deep, pain had been shoved down low and my threshold for one more lonely night was at an all time low. Each time I opened myself up to someone new, there was usually more hurt, more sadness, more pain. And yet, I was hopeful every time! As if, THIS ONE would be THE ONE. What I didn’t know was that not only did I need love, but I truly needed a miracle. My identity was wrapped up in all the wrong things and my perspective on life was truly warped. In the midst of all of this, something extraordinary did happen. I finally met God! I was atheist for so long, believing God did not exist, he was surely dead, not alive. When I encountered God for the first time, I knew in that moment he was real. I know he was alive. I felt it in my body my bones my spirit and my soul. My soul actually came alive. There is a part of me that was so truly unaware of myself; who I was, what I had been doing with my life, who I was supposed to be. And in the moment that I experienced God, an alive God, a living God, I was exposed in the most beautiful way. It was a feeling of love, like for the first time, someone recognized me, the true me, accepted me, knew me and loved me, even the parts of me that I, myself, could not even love. And so I wept. And I had never wept before. It felt like something coming up and out of me from deep inside my soul. Yes, there were tears, but there was also years of pain pouring out like fountains. Choking back on my breath out of astonishment of this feeling. It was a pure feeling. I knew that God was real and I knew that he loved me. End of Story. Ok, not end of story, but the story could end there right? Like isn’t it enough to just finally know for certain that you’re loved. But! Alas! No! There was so much more. In the Bible, there is a story of a woman who had been bleeding for 12 years straight. She is desperate to stop this problem so she searches for Jesus all the while telling herself, “If I only touch his cloak, I will be healed.” She reaches out and touches the edge of his garment. Jesus turns and he sees her and says, “Take heart daughter, your faith has healed you.” This simple story has given me so much hope since that day I met Jesus. All it takes it ONE touch, and not even a massive touch, not even a hug (although I’m sure he wants to hug us all the time), it was just a touch of the edge of his garment. That’s all Jesus needs to notice us. FAITH amuses God. ANY time we reach for him, in any way, he is pleased. The Bible says that he actually delights in us. Delights! He gets great pleasure and satisfaction from us. I had touched the edge of Jesus’s garment, but oh there was so much more for me... (If you like where this story is going and want to know more, please email me at amy@recklessly-loved.com)