God and I have had several DTRs this past year. We’ve gone from “in a relationship” to “it’s complicated.” Sometimes, I’m even tempted to just call the whole thing off by stating that I’m “single and ready to mingle.” In fact, my life would be a lot easier if I could do just that. If I could just simply “break up” with God and be free to explore other relationships, I would. So maybe the most accurate status would read, “Ashley McCleery is in an open relationship with the Lord.”
But something in me won’t let go. I simply cannot let go. No matter how annoyed or frustrated or confused I am at the Lord for the pain and injustices in my life and in the lives of the other seven billion people in the world, I cannot sever the relationship. While our intimate rhumba has now become an awkward middle school two-step with my fingertips barely touching his shoulders, I cannot stop from following the Lord’s lead.
Basically, God and I are no longer in a honeymoon. I feel as though we are that married couple that has been together long enough for all the idiosyncrasies to grate each other’s nerves and yet not long enough for these quirks to become another reason to love the other. Well, I pray to God (pun intended) that he does not feel this way, but I know I do.
Honestly, the best relationship description is probably “on a break.” During this “break,” I have become more and more aware of the religiosity I allowed in my intimate relationship with the Lord. When I embraced the Lord, I was simultaneously embracing all the “ought to’s” and “should’s” of the American Christian culture, as well as the human characteristics I projected onto the Divine.
So through this break, I have loosened my grip on the Lord’s shoulder to allow these things to dissipate from my dance. Quiet time. Reading the Bible. Praying. Going to church. Ministry. My perceptions of the Lord, the Holy Spirit, and Jesus. For the past year, I have only participated in these activities when I really desired to do so, releasing guilt from having any power over my relationship.
During our complicated dance, I pushed the Lord away, and he twirled me back towards him. Then, I loosened my hands, hoping he would grasp them tighter, and he didn’t. When he didn’t pursue me, I danced apathetically. Just when my eyes were glazed over in defiant anger, I felt the Lord’s loving gaze upon my face. This push and pull, ebb and flow is exhausting. Right now it seems never-ending. Some days I just want to stop dancing, get a divorce, or at least separate. And some days I want to snuggle in closer and renew my vows.
At this very moment, I so deeply desire to dance cheek to cheek. This yearning was spurred by several events in the past month, but one event in particular is fueling this passion.
One morning after my shift at the eating disorder home, I was in my bed eating oatmeal and drinking coffee. It was a particularly difficult shift and it had been a particularly difficult week. Without realizing it, I was eating my oatmeal feverishly thinking, “I want Jesus. I want Jesus.” Then, I slurped my coffee repeating, “I want You, Jesus. I want You, Jesus” in my head. Laughing and almost crying, I realized that I had just partaken in the most authentic and honest communion in my entire life. My intimate dance had become an intimate breakfast date.
However, the only thing my cheek feels is air, and my meals remain a party of one. And so I push away, hoping to be pulled back. I remove the second set of dishes, hoping to need them before I put them in the cabinet.
I want Jesus. I want You, Jesus. But, I don’t want You if You don’t want me. I want Jesus. I want You, Jesus. Please tell me You want me, too.
See, it is complicated.
“Ashley McCleery is in a complicated relationship with the Lord, her Creator.”
