Driving home from work today, I was exhausted. I thought about how much I was looking forward to the weekend. I thought about how I would sleep in and get caught up on some much needed rest, cleaning, and shopping. I pulled into the parking lot and stopped to grab my mail near the front entrance gate. I grabbed the mail, walked back out to the car, and then, one of those moments that you expect to happen but never know is really coming, came. A Honda Civic pulled into the parking lot in front of me. Not uncommon, but when I looked at his face it was one that I had never wanted to see again. My weekend would not be what I had hoped.

What the hell? I had a few choice words as I prayed under my breath.

No, it wasn't Shawn. It was a guy I had shut the door on 5 years ago. He "heard" from the Lord that we were supposed to get married. I did NOT hear the same thing and told him so. I have told him so...over and over and over again. Recently (for the past year) I have ignored him. And yet, he still sends flowers, letters, long letters. Nothing seems to deter him. Flattering? No. Disturbing, yes.

My heart has gone from one extreme to the next. It's like a test of my temperment. With Shawn I was vulnerable, sweet, interested. With this guy, I am disinterested, hard hearted, ungrateful.

My God, my heart must lie in the midst of this somewhere.

No, now that I think more about it, proving my own legitimacy with God was not the reason that I stayed with him. I really and truly loved him. I wanted it to work out. But it didn't.

Now what? I am faced with questions. Do I answer them or let them float around the mystery that is my heart? If I try and explain it away, he is wrong...I am right...and the world I live in does not change.

I don't even like to talk about it anymore. The only reason it ever comes up is so that I can prove that I wasn't a total idiot in the situation. I mean, why else do we feel the need to retell our break up stories?

I keep praying for his healing...the deep healing I know that he needs. He has been hurting for more years than I have known him, and I have only tasted the backlash of that pain. But the truth is, I am hurting too. I forget that there are wounds I need to tend to here. I forget that I know the Healer. And I am walking around with masking tape to cover my own brokeness. Every day, I wake up and I try to forget. But forgetting is not the same as restoring.

I can feel the hardness begin to creep in as I turn up the radio to drown the sorrows of my heart. The beat is fast, the music driving, the words cutting and precise...I feel stronger.

But I am not strong, Lord. I am weak. Take me up from here and help me to move on. Show me the way to go.