The Best of WTOnline

Reader Poll

What part of your life is most difficult to surrender to God? My finances My future My past My family My physical body My feeling of control View Results

 

The Single Woman

Everlasting Arms

By Amy Aldworth-Steiner

As a brand-new Christian, I was just learning what God’s Word has to say about living in this world. I’ll admit I was clueless. I’d been through a painful divorce several years before and was now dating a great guy named Harvey. Harvey was Jewish, and was the nicest man I had ever met. I didn’t yet know how to relate to kindness, but I wanted to learn. Raised in a dysfunctional, alcoholic home where everything was highly dramatic, I had little knowledge of what it meant to be in a normal relationship.

Harvey didn’t mind that I was a Christian. The few times we spoke about my faith, he was supportive but made it abundantly clear he had no interest in it. I figured that was OK. God must have sent me this man because he was so patient and kind—qualities I was sure God himself possessed. We continued seeing each other.

One evening after we’d been dating for about six months, Harvey unexpectedly proposed. I was completely floored! In the first place, it amazed me that someone this nice actually wanted to marry me, and secondly because I was starting to feel worthy of it. My future seemed to open up before me like a sparkling promise. Terrified and excited at the same time, I wanted to say yes, but caution held me back. Instead I told him I’d let him know soon. That night I prayed.

“God, please show me what to do. I really love this man, but I’ve blown it before and last time was a disaster. Please show me the way.”

I wasn’t attending church then. I had no pastor or Christian friend to turn to for guidance. But the Holy Spirit spoke to my heart and said, “Don’t be unequally yoked with an unbeliever.”

I knew it was a Scripture passage, but didn’t know where I’d read it, so I looked it up. It as part of a message from Paul to the Corinthians. “Do not be yoked together with unbelievers. For what to righteousness and wickedness have in common? Or what fellowship can light have with darkness?” (2 Corinthians 6:14). I put my Bible down. I didn’t want to hear it.

Although I tried to push it away, I knew God was speaking to me. I knew He didn’t want me to marry Harvey, but I didn’t want to listen. I loved Harvey. What could possibly be wrong with that?

“Do you really have to think about it some more?” he asked me later that week.

It was breaking my heart to put him off, but I knew I couldn’t jump into anything—particularly a lifelong commitment—until I was sure. No matter how much I loved him, I didn’t want another failed marriage. I had to trust someone bigger. I had to trust God.

Over the next several days, the voice inside grew clearer and stronger. I kept hearing it over and over, like a sad refrain. Eventually, I knew I had no choice. I had to tell Harvey no.

“Why?” He was incredulous. “I know you love me! How can you do this to us?” He took my hands in his as we sat on the couch in my apartment. “Please talk to me,” he begged.

I could feel my heart pounding, my hands trembling. I shifted on the couch. Harvey deserved an explanation, but how could I help him see what I didn’t understand myself? Maybe he’d understand. Maybe he’d become a Christian and this would all work out.

“What kind of God would say something like that?” he cried. “I can’t believe you think this means we can’t be together. Why are you doing this? Why would you listen to a God like that?”

I desperately tried to explain what I knew in my heart was true. We talked and reasoned together for several hours, trying to figure things out. He finally stood up. Hurt and rage were etched on his face.
“You’re crazy to follow this God!” he said. And with that he left.

I stood at the window watching him drive away with tears streaming down my cheeks. My love for him was just as real as any I’d ever known, and I knew I would never see him again.

Quickly I ran down the stairs, wiping the tears away as I hopped into my car. What had I done? I had to find a church. I had to make God understand. I had to get Harvey back. I prayed again for direction as I frantically tried to make sense of what had happened. Had I forever ruined any chance at finding love and happiness?

In town, I found a little storefront church and pulled into the parking lot. It was a Wednesday evening. I could hear music pouring out of the building and I went inside and found a place in the sanctuary next to a woman who was raising her hands and singing. I tried to read the words on the screen, but I couldn’t see through my tears. I began wrestling with God.

God, why did you take Harvey away? He’s such a good man, such a tender man.

In my head I distinctly heard a tender voice say, “I love you, Amy.”

But God, you know I’m lonely, I silently cried. And I need someone! It’s so hard being single. You don’t understand. I need someone to hold me and love me. You are a Spirit and you don’t have any arms! You can’t hold me! In my despair, I wept into my hands. My spirit was crushed. I didn’t think God was listening any more and as the tears stung my eyes, I didn’t think He cared either.

Suddenly, the woman standing next to me leaned over and said, “The Lord just told me He wants to give you a hug.”

I quickly turned and stared at her, unable to speak. Instantly she reached for me and I found myself overwhelmed with emotion as I sobbed into her arms. I felt the presence of a caring, loving Father enfold me as I unburdened my pain and confusion onto Him. There is no way this stranger could have known what I was thinking. But God did. And in that little church that day, the Creator of the Universe gave me a hug.

It took many years before I met the right man, but that sweet embrace kept me going for a long time. I now have a wonderful Christian husband and two terrific boys. Although it was difficult to break it off with Harvey so long ago, I’m so glad I did. I didn’t know it at the time, but God would reward my act of obedience with something much better. And in the process, he would teach me I can trust Him to carry me through anything I face in this life while I rest safely in His everlasting arms.

AMY STEINER is a freelance writer in Colorado, where she lives with her husband and their two sons.