Grayson and Avery. I can’t help the knowing smirk that tugs at the corner of my mouth just thinking about them. FINALLY! If there has been a bright spot in this week, they are definitely it.
At the same time, though, they make me miss Addie…
Is there anything that doesn't?
The thing that always drove me insane about Grayson not making a move to pursue Avery was that I know that Ave is his person. I’m his best friend, yeah, but she’s his person. She gets a vulnerable piece of him that no one else gets. There’s just something there, something unique that clicks and causes them to align in a way that he will never be able to find in anyone else. Because he’s been totally into her for so long, he’s been giving the purest parts of himself away without even realizing it. Which, of course, opened the door for Ave to do the same thing with him. I know this and I recognize it because, even though Gray is my best friend, Addie is my person. Half of the reason why I feel like I can’t really talk to anyone about our breakup is because I know that she’s the only person that will even come close to comprehending. Even if she doesn’t understand the situation, she gets me.
I want to tell her how confused I am without her. I want to tell her that I’m doubting my decision. I want to tell her that I’m scared because I feel like I’m groping my way through the dark—but I can’t. I can’t tell her any of that. Not just because there needs to be some distance between us, but because even though I’m feeling all of those things, I also know that I can’t take it back—for so many reasons. Since I can’t take it back—since I have to stand by my words—I can’t fill her with my doubts. I can’t burden her with my fears. I can’t do that to her. I told her to trust me. She needs to be able to hold onto the confidence that I’m doing this for a purpose; even if that purpose is so far out of reach that I can’t even see it now.
Lord, Almighty, I need her to hold onto something because I can’t seem to grasp hold of anything right now.
Seeing her on Tuesday at Cooper’s was like an out of body experience. I could see her, hear her, touch her—but I also couldn't. I couldn't feel her the way that I wanted to. All night, as I tried to stay present and in the moment with her and our friends, I kept thinking, what am I doing? I love her so damn much, so what am I doing? But every time my protests sounded through my head, so did my adamant insecurities and the conviction that I need to get my act together before I go back to her. Whatever that means.
As soon as I got home that night, I emailed Pastor Doug to see if he was available to talk this week. I wanted to speak to someone who might have a clue, but I didn't want it to be my dad. I need a more objective perspective. It didn’t dawn on me, until he wrote me back, that I sought him out to talk about my relationship problems right in the middle of his relationship series.
Coincidence? Yeah, right. God doesn't do coincidences.
So, I'm on my way to the Little Bird Cafe to meet him now. He suggested it might be more comfortable to meet for coffee than to sit cooped up in his church office. I ignore the fact that coffee makes me think of Addie—what doesn't these days, honestly?—as I try and find parking. It's early on a Friday morning in Old Town, so it's not too busy and I secure a perfect spot. As I round the corner where the local coffee shop sits, I can see him already seated at a table by the store front windows. He looks up as I approach and smiles as he stands when I enter the establishment.
“Morning, Beck,” he says, extending a hand. I grip my fingers around his and he pulls me in for a hug, patting me on the back. I do the same with him, tapping him with the journal that I’ve got clutched in my other hand.
“Hey, Pastor Doug. Thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure, sure,” he says, pulling away from me. Doug is built sort of like I am. He’s the same height as me with a similar lean frame. He’s got brown eyes, framed by a generous amount of laugh lines and thick eyebrows. His face is clean shaven and his dark blonde hair is combed down neatly just like it is on Sunday. “Can I buy you a coffee?”
“Okay. Thanks.” I put my journal down on the table, where I notice he has left his Bible open. We go to the counter and order, talking about nothing in particular as we wait. When we sit, silence settles between us as we both sip at our hot drinks.
“So, Beck, why are we here?” he asks softly.
I inhale deeply and exhale loudly as I try and mentally psych myself up for what I’m about to say. “I broke up with Addie.”
The look on his face says Whoa! as his lips part in awe. It would be funny if I didn't feel the same way. He recovers quickly before he speaks. “Really?” he manages. “I didn’t see that coming.” I nod, understanding that Doug has known us as a couple for as long as we’ve been attending Calvary Hill Community Church. “Is there any chance for reconciliation?”
“Yeah. I mean, that’s the plan.”
He knits his eyebrows together in confusion. “I don’t think I asked the right question. What happened?”
For the next twenty minutes, I talk without ceasing. He listens, only interrupting for clarification. Simply telling my story yields no answers; just like journaling my thoughts as of late, it feels good to get the words out, but I don’t see things any clearer having done so. When I’ve finished talking, neither of us speaks for a few minutes. I watch Doug, nervously, as he strokes his chin and processes all that I’ve shared.
“I’m going to be straight with you, Beckham,” he finally says, resting his elbows on the table as he leans closer. I mimic his posture, anxious to receive anything he’s able to offer. “I don’t have any answers. In this situation, there isn’t a right or wrong path to take. There is nothing black or white about any of this. I do not presume to know God’s plan or the depths of your heart. All I can offer you is my opinion—my advice from my limited perspective.”
“Yeah, okay.”
“You don’t think you’re ready to get married. Well, let me tell you something—I don’t think anyone is ever really ready to get married. Sure, it’s important that you spend some time getting to know the person that you intend on living the rest of your life with, but marriage is something that you can’t fully understand until you’re in it. Even when you’re in it, while it is beautiful and amazing and fun, it’s also difficult and unpredictable and work. People change, people grow, life happens and no two marriages are exactly alike.”
“So, what, you’re saying I shouldn’t have broken up with her? That this feeling I have is never going to go away?”
“No,” he says shaking his head. “I simply want to point out that I don’t think your focus is in the right place.” I cock my eyebrow at him in question and he clasps his hands together as he prepares to address my desire for more. “You and Addison have been together for longer than a lot of marriages last, these days. Considering you broke up, not because you don’t wish to be together but, because the expectation to get married has become too heavy, I’m not convinced that this is about being ready to get married. But since that is how you understand this situation, your mind is focused on what you have to do to be ready to get married—your compass, if you will, has Addie as your true north. You say you feel like you’re groping your way through the darkness, but I wonder if it seems that way because you’re not traveling in the right direction.”
I inhale impatiently as I run my fingers through my hair. Despite my cup of Joe, it's still only eight thirty in the morning and I'm not awake enough for riddles. I’m not ashamed to say that I do not follow. “Pastor Doug—I’m going to need you to give it to me plain.”
He smirks at me before he continues. “You’re traveling toward Addie. You feel this uncertainty in your heart and you’re trying to figure out how to deal with it; but your feelings for Addie are not what’s uncertain—neither are her feelings for you. From what I can tell, your struggle is with trust.”
“Trust?” I ask lamely.
“I don’t know if you don’t trust yourself or if you don’t fully trust God—but there is a lack of trust somewhe
re that has you unable to move forward. And regardless of which one it is, since your trust in Addison is not in question, you can’t keep traveling and relying on her as your true north.”
I need a minute to let that sink in. Doug is gracious enough to offer me the time as he nurses his drink. “So the question isn’t: what do I need to do to find my way back to Addie?”
“I don't believe so, no. Based on what you’ve told me, you don’t need to get her back. She’s still yours. All you’d have to do is claim her—and I mean that in the most chivalrous way, of course,” he says with passing smile. “But your heart doesn't seem to be satisfied with that option.”
“No. It isn’t.”
“Alright, so then I think you should take some time to consider a couple of things.” He removes a pen he has stored between the pages of his Bible before pulling a paper napkin in front of him. He writes his questions before he turns the napkin toward me and speaks them aloud. “Do you trust that you can follow through with the responsibilities God intends for you to fulfill in the role of husband? Do you trust your relationship in God’s hands?” Before I have a chance to respond, he’s speaking again. “If you answer no to either question, they both put you on the same path.”
“What path is that?” I ask as I begin to fidget with the napkin.
“A vertical one. Again, Addie is down here,” he says, pointing at the table. “She is your past and quite possibly your future; both exist on a plane that travels horizontally. But remember, she’s not your true north.” He points up. “The relationship that seems to be pleading for your attention is on a vertical plane. Do you get me?”
“Yeah. I think so.” I pause and try and wrap my head around this new concept. To be honest, I’m not sure that it makes me feel any better. I can see how it makes sense; the questions he poses are ones that I really do think I need to consider. It’s not that I’ve never asked myself the same things, but I’m not sure I’ve ever pressed myself to find an answer. Perhaps this is God’s way of making me face the parts of myself I thought I didn’t need to worry about—the parts of myself I neglected or took for granted. But—“This could take forever,” I blurt out.
“What could take forever?”
“Addressing my trust issues, if that is indeed where my problem lies.”
“Are you on a schedule? Is there any rush?”
I scoff, unable to hide my offense to his casually delivered question. “I could lose her.”
“Ah, and there it is,” he hums, leaning back in his chair. I shrug, expressing that I do not follow. “Who’s in the driver’s seat, Beck? You or God?”
I open my mouth to respond, my brain instantly giving me the answer—but then I stop, and my heart contradicting me. Who is the leader of our relationship, really? Me or God? I broke things off because I felt like something wasn’t lining up correctly, but I did it with the mindset that I will get her back. If God told me to give her up forever, would I? Do I trust that if that was what He wanted me to do then that must be the best plan for my life, or for hers? Do I trust that if the best plan is for her and I to get married that God will make it happen, no matter how long we’re apart? Or am I stuck in the mindset that this is all in my hands and I have to make it right?
“Beckham,” Doug breaks my train of thought and I look up at him. “God is not trying to sabotage your relationship or ruin your life by taking away the woman you love. God is good. Always. Even when we are hurting and we don’t understand the challenges that have been placed before us, He is still good and sovereign. What you’re going through right now, following your heart down this road less traveled, that is obedience and God has called us to be obedient people. Here is something you need to remember—God isn’t interested in you understanding Him or His plan; He’s interested in you trusting Him, at all times, no matter what.”
“Why doesn’t that sound encouraging?” I mutter.
“Because you lack faith in His promises to you.”
I rub my hands up my face, pushing my glasses up as I groan. I wasn’t as prepared for this conversation as I thought I was. Now, I no longer feel open minded. Instead, I feel defensive and frustrated and reprimanded. These are things that I didn’t need to feel on top of everything else! I don’t want to be in this conversation anymore. “Okay. Yeah. I’ll work on it,” I say, righting my glasses as I lean back in my chair.
“I know I’ve given you a lot to think and pray about but, before I go, I have one more thing for you to consider.”
“Alright,” I murmur. Recognizing that I’m on the verge of being rude, I sit up straight and rest my forearms against the table, signaling to him that I’m still listening.
“God may have placed it on your heart to initiate this separation from Addie—and I don’t doubt that He did so with specific intentions for you—but I’m also confident that you aren’t His only concern. God uses all things for the good of those who love Him. God’s not going to leave her hanging. Know and trust that He loves her more than you do and He’s got something in the works for her, too.”
That’s probably the first comforting thing he’s said all morning, I think as I sigh in relief. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Well, Beck, I’ve got another appointment I have to get to.”
“Yeah, sure.” As much as I’m relieved that this meeting is coming to an end, I am grateful for the chance to speak with him about this. “Thanks, again, for your time.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad to know how I can be praying for you. Please, keep me posted and check in, alright?” he asks as he stands.
I stand with him and shake his hand. “I will.”
“Good. I’ll see you Sunday, then.”
I nod and we both wave as he makes his way out the door. I slump back into my chair, feeling heavy after our conversation. My journal and the napkin Doug scribbled on sit in front of me and I know that I should write for a while in an attempt to process some of the things that were just discussed. I decide that I will—after I get a refill.
I wake up with a groan. It’s too early to be waking up. I feel like I haven’t slept nearly enough—when I remember that I haven’t, I smile. My lingering giddiness motivates me to get out of bed. The tug at my lips seems relentless as I get up and get dressed, slipping into my yoga clothes. While I pull my hair up and grab my purse and mat, I replay the events of last night that have me in such a good mood.
Avery and Grayson. Grayson and Avery. Gravery—Averson? Gravery for the win.
As soon as we pulled Ave away from Gray last night, Sarah and I were demanding details. As promised, Sarah threw together a batch of cookies while Ave started from the beginning. I’m still amazed that she was able to keep their relationship a secret. I know it was only for two days—but a secret between us for two days might as well be two months. Then again, I knew there was something different about her. If I hadn’t been so busy wallowing, I probably could have gotten it out of her sooner.
I shake the thought away as I climb into my Civic and resume my mental replay from the night before. I wouldn’t have caught them if I hadn’t forgotten something in my car. I was on my way out to get it when I opened the door to find the best surprise ever. Now, I can’t even remember what it is that I was after. I look around as I start the ignition and try to jog my memory, but I still come up short. I’m too distracted and definitely too tired.
By the time the cookies were done and we were all sitting in any available space on our kitchen counters, we made her tell us everything all over again as we enjoyed our just-out-of-the-oven treats. High from the excitement and too much sugar, she acquiesced. We didn’t get to bed until almost two. Poor Avery—she’s probably a zombie this morning. I could definitely go for a cup of coffee just now, myself, but I don’t have time for that. It’s okay, though. I will happily wear this exhaustion all day. It was so worth it, seeing Avery so unimaginably happy. I’ve never seen her light up the way she did last night when she was telling us about her first date wi
th Gray.
God—I love that girl more than life itself. Thank you for blessing her with Grayson.
Yeah. I think it’s time God and I were on speaking terms, again.
When I walk into the yoga studio, I note that it’s just as crowded with women as the session on Wednesday. I smile as I shake my head and settle myself in the back, like before. Roman spots me from the front and comes over to say hello. I’m glad to see him; partly because over the last couple of days I’ve gotten to work with him and I’ve decided that I like him, and partly because my good mood just enhances all my natural feelings.
“Good morning,” he says as I stand from unrolling my mat.
“Good morning,” I return with a smile.
He smirks at me as he folds his arms across his chest. “Someone’s feeling better today.”
“I just found out last night that my sister is dating this guy that she’s liked forever,” I blurt out. “And I’m going to ride this high for as long as my heart will let me.”
“So you have a sister?” he asks, as if he’s appreciative to have learned something new about me.
I nod. “She’s my other half.”
“Well, I’m glad her happiness has brought about that smile,” he says, backing away from me. He greets a few other women as he makes his way to the front of the room and then we get started.
It feels good to be on my mat, flowing through each movement as I work and stretch out my muscles. I relax and let my mind wander while I listen to Roman’s instructions. At some point, I lose my grip on Gravery and I slip and fall into the clutches of my reality. I’m in downward dog when the tears come. I crouch down until I’m resting in child’s pose, feeling betrayed by my emotions, which have totally taken advantage of my clear head.
The Promises We Keep (Made for Love Book 1) Page 15
