Joe was my Mirror

A journal entry from January 2, 2015  3:30AM

          When Joe found me at the other end of my Christmas card, 16 ½ years ago, I was so lonely.   My second marriage had ended and for two years I had been living in a rented house with two of my girls there part time.  We were making it and I was getting stronger, but I was lonely.  I was lonely and I was insecure.  Who would ever want me?  How would I ever find someone to love me? 

I was afraid of men.  I knew they could hurt me.  I was afraid of their gaze that showed interest.  I was afraid of sex.  I was lacking and they would know it.  I was not a sexual woman and they would find that out if I let them get close.  I was afraid, so I didn’t let them get close.

          I had a bicycle and I found a group of people that liked to ride.  I loved the feeling of strength in my body when I pushed myself to ride up gigantic hills or go far distances.  The challenges were fun but at the end of the day, with my girls away, I went home to an empty house.

In the winter, when I couldn’t ride my bike, I learned to roller blade.  Rolling seemed to be my thing.  I needed the freedom of rolling after years of feeling tied so tightly to the earth by kids and chores.  After a time, I learned to dance on my skates and the joy that was trapped deep in my heart began to surface.  I danced on those skates morning, noon and night.  I was like a bird sailing on the breeze, free, joyful, balancing on one foot and then the other, twirling to music as I rolled and rolled.  My life had been off balance for a long time but now I was able to dance on the breeze. Midnight would find me rolling around my  house, music blasting while my girls shook their heads at their crazy mom who finally seemed happy again.  Their child-like mom was finding the peace and joy that had been lost for so long.

I took early morning walks into the apple orchard behind my house, to watch the sunrise and the day begin to a chorus of chirping birds.  I sat out on the dark hill beside the highway, watching the beautiful night sky.   I was open to the gifts each day brought and I was feeling a long, forgotten sense of balance.

I was healing.  I was getting stronger through my bike riding adventures. I was finding joy as I danced on my roller blades.  My quiet time in nature brought peace back into my life but I was alone a lot.  I was alone in my heart. I felt like I was in a holding pattern, waiting for someone to tell me what to do next. 

          And then I sent out my Christmas cards and one of them found Joe.  Joe was my neighbor friend from an old life.  That life seemed so far from the life I moved in now.  Years ago, Joe and his wife lived next door to us.  Our kids played together and we enjoyed sharing family activities.  Sometimes Joe and I stood at the fence between our town houses and chatted.

Joe was not doing well.  His marriage was failing.  He was lost and fearful of his future.  He loved his four children and he was afraid of losing them.  He needed someone to talk to.  He needed a friend.  We began to email back and forth and our friendship grew.  I was helping him find himself in the midst of terrible despair.  He was desperate to find strength after being so defeated by a sense of failure in his marriage.  Joe listened to stories of my healing and told me that I was smart and that sharing my wisdom was helping him.  I wanted to matter to someone.  Helping Joe made me feel like I mattered.  Through his eyes, I began to see that I had value. 

          As our relationship grew, I saw myself more and more through his eyes.  He thought I was beautiful and somehow I started to see it too.  He thought I was sexy and miracle of miracles, I became sexy.  He gave me the courage to reach out, to stand up, to be more than I ever could have been on my own.  Joe helped me to believe in myself.  He became the person whose opinion I defined myself by.  We fell in love and Joe loved me like no one else.  His love was unconditional and wrapped in his arms I felt safe and cherished.  I was somebody and I was who I was, because Joe loved me into being that person.  I didn’t need  other people.  I didn’t need anything because Joe was my mirror.  I found my strength and courage in this man and I loved and trusted him with all of my heart.  All I needed was this man and I would live the rest of my days in peace and joy. 

               

           Now I can see it.  Now I understand it was too much.  No one person can care for all of our needs.  No one can be the mirror that defines who we are and all that we can be.  That’s God’s job.  Joe loved me but he couldn’t be my God.  He was human and had his own lost soul to care for.  I didn’t know it at the time, but he was broken and I couldn’t fix that for him.   I couldn’t fill his empty spaces.  I let him down, just like he let me down.  We were expecting too much from each other.  We knew that the high of our all consuming, new love wouldn’t last forever, but we didn’t understand that we should invite God to fill the gaps with His love. 

As I’m writing this morning, I see how I made Joe into my God. I needed someone to love me the way God does and Joe really wanted to do that for me.  I was lonely and needed rescuing, but Joe needed rescuing too.  God could have filled my lonely spaces but instead I filled all of them with Joe.  I continued to use Joe to fill in my spaces of insecurity, fear, feelings of not being good enough.   I had put Joe in so many of my empty spaces that when I found out that he had been unfaithful; all of those spaces became empty again.  I had almost nothing left to support me.   The mirror had been shattered and I was so afraid.  I didn’t know who I was anymore.  I became obsessed with understanding and fixing Joe’s brokenness.  If I couldn’t fix him, I might be lost forever.  

It took a long time for me to hear God’s voice and then even longer for me to understand, that only He could make me whole again.  God’s love can fill all of my empty spaces.  If I just let God be my mirror, I don’t ever have to be afraid, or lonely, or fear that I am not good enough.  God thinks I’m awesome just the way I am.