Glass Wall: (Memoirs of a Teenage Author)

(This is post #17 of the My Journey to Gritty: Memoirs of a Teenage Author series)
Just so any newcomers are aware, this post is a chapter in the middle of a story. To go back and read from the beginning of the narrative, click the "My Journey" link directly above.

Photo Credit: D Sharon Pruitt

That next weekend was very memorable. I looked over the men that Blackbeard had recruited to help put in the wood stoves at our house, hoping to see my elusive husband. But I was starting to lose hope.
Either the guy wasn’t a very reliable church goer, or Blackbeard had misspoken when he said that he knew who I was looking for.

One of the men seemed pretty interested in me though. While the others were working on chopping wood and putting in the stoves, this guy found me in a corner and started quizzing me on Bible translations. It was a good ten minutes before I could finally slip away and get some peace and quiet elsewhere.
Dad was acting a little weird, too. When night fell, and everyone was still working, he took me outside and asked me a serious question.
“Well, honey… what do you think of these boys here? Do you feel anything about any of them?”
I thought about the Bible translations guy, and the long haired, flirty drummer, and the twenty-something dude that thought he was God’s gift to the rest of humankind…
Then I sighed, and looked at Dad.
“Daddy, I want a man, not a boy. I need to marry someone I can respect.”
He nodded, and went back into the house.

That night, after everyone left, Mom and I had a talk.
I was supremely frustrated that my husband hadn’t shown up, and I started expressing my irritation to her.
“It’s like he’s on the other side of a glass wall!” I exclaimed. “Or… like he’s just around a corner. He’s so close I can touch him, but I can’t see him! I don’t understand! This is so aggravating!”
Mom listened to me for a while, then she very carefully asked, “Are you sure you don’t know who your husband is, Jess?”
“Of course I’m sure! I’d know him instantly!”
“Are you absolutely certain? Has God told you that?”
“Well… no…”
I stopped talking and started thinking hard. Slowly, ever so slowly, the truth started dawning on me.
Mom had never let go of the idea that Blackbeard was the man for me. Somehow it clung stubbornly to her heart. She never pushed me or influenced me in that direction, and Blackbeard himself had never showed even a whit of interest in me, but somehow, I knew what she was thinking.
I started shaking my head. All of me started shaking with emotion, actually.
“No! No! Not him! I told you! He’s not my husband! He’s just the door!
Mom didn’t say anything. She wanted me to make my own decisions without her influence tainting them.
I ran to my room, dove into bed, and started praying.
“God! You see! This is so confusing! What is she thinking?!”
Slowly, I started breathing and thinking easier. My prayers grew more direct.
“You said Blackbeard was the door, Lord!”
“He is,” The Spirit whispered to me. “The man you know is not the man that’s on the inside.”
“What does that mean?”
“Blackbeard’s like an onion. You’ve never met the real man inside of him. The outside crust, the only side of him you’ve ever seen, is the door to the inside of him, which is a hidden, tender heart.”
I sat up and started thinking hard.
“So… he could be my husband then.”
“Could be.”
“But is he?!”
No matter how much I asked, God wouldn’t tell me if Blackbeard was my husband. So I changed my question.
“What do you want me to do then? I’ve been avoiding him like the plague. And he avoids me. We’ve never even had a real conversation before.”
The Spirit’s guidance was the clearest words I have ever received.
“Give him a chance.”
Give this guy a chance?! A chance with my heart?! My tender, vulnerable heart?!
I balked.
Then a vision came to me. I saw what might happen. I saw the inside of Blackbeard’s heart. The capacity for love was strong in him. We could have a truly beautiful, loving relationship.
“Okay…” I whispered. “I’ll give him a chance. But please, make things happen quick. This caught-in-the-middle thing has stretched me so hard, and I'm so tired."
Somehow, I knew God was pleased with me.
I lay down and went to sleep, more peaceful than I had been in months.

Click here to read the next post in this series: The Call

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