An Unexpected Incarnational Moment

A couple days after date #3 with this really sweet, very kind, incredibly good man, I had a dream about him.  I tend to have weird dreams, and this was more run of the mill.  Though I knew when I awoke why I had had this particular dream, I chose to ignore it.

In the dream, this man and I were getting married.  I was in my dress, in the bride's room at the church, waiting for the cue that I would shortly be walking down the aisle.  The bridesmaids had already lined up at the back of the church.

A knock came and assuming it was time, I took a deep breath, opened the door, prepared to step out and walk toward my waiting groom.  When I opened the door, however, my best friend, TB, was standing there.  Immediately, I hugged him, so filled with joy that he was there.  "I didn't think you'd come!" I exclaimed.

"What are you doing!?" he demanded of me.  "How can you marry this guy?"

Frustration, anger, and confusion filled me.  "This is my wedding!" I told him.  "I'm about to walk down the aisle.  And you show up NOW to ask these questions?"

"He's not right for you!"

"He's a good man!  He's kind!  He's loving!  And I chose to make this commitment.  Period.  End of story."

"He isn't an Olympic badminton player!" TB yelled at me.

"Oh, my goodness!  You are such a freaking snob!" I yelled back.  "There are more important things in life!"

"Not for you," he said quietly, shaking his head.  "You were the one who always knew exactly what you needed -- not wanted -- needed in a partner:  a Christian, an intellectual Olympic badminton player, and a fierce devotion to Matthew 18.  And he doesn't have any of those.  What the hell are you doing?"

"People can change," I said quietly.  "Maybe being a good and kind person is enough."

"Not for you," he replied, and walked out the door.

When I woke up, I tried to forget it.  I tried to forget the truth in it:  this man I had gone on a few dates with had none of the qualities I need in a partner.  Not one.  He is kind and loving and compassionate and a very, very good man.  And those things are important.

But they will never be enough for me.  I will never be able to share the whole of myself with someone who is merely good.

I tried to forget this because I so enjoy this man.  Because he is good.  And good men are few and far between.  And because I hate failing.  I refuse to fail.  Death is preferable to failure.  I will push through, fight, and force myself to succeed at the things I choose to do, even if I know doing so will push me to the brink of insanity and ultimately kill me.  And walking away from a good man didn't seem like "a wise decision made after consider all factors"; it felt like another relational failure, an inability to be flexible, to grow, to let someone else be good enough.

Two days later when he emailed to tell me he was not interested in going on any more dates with me, I was confused.  Because I thought we'd had a lot of fun, and I was very much enjoying the time we were spending together.

But he is better than I am, because he was willing to acknowledge and call out what I tried to remain blind to:  that this is not the relationship for either one of us.

It was, to me, and incarnational moment.  God's presence residing deeply and God voice speaking clearly.