“Oh, Kayla—your guy is totally coming, you just have to wait!”
Growing up a Christian, I can’t tell you how many times I was told this by well-meaning friends, youth leaders, and mentors. I was fourteen when I first seriously liked a guy, and when it turned out he liked someone else, I clung to their words. Someone is coming, I just have to wait.
So I waited. And waited. Then waited some more.
But it kept happening. I kept liking a guy and he kept falling for another girl. I’m not talking about one year in high school. I’m talking about a pattern that continued for a decade.
Against all odds, I kept holding on. I listened to family members and best friends who had waited for a long time and God had the person just for them. I understood that all that I had gone through was maturing me and building my capacity to love well. It made sense why those guys didn’t work out.
So I waited. And waited. Then waited some more.
In the waiting, I learned to grieve when I was disappointed. I learned to hope even when it was scary. I learned to make decisions in the midst of chaotic emotions and still stick to those decisions when it got hard again.
Yet not once did anyone tell me about self-sabotage.
I mean, I heard bits and pieces. I knew it was when you try to protect yourself from getting hurt, but instead, you set a trap for everyone around you to do exactly what you fear. This trap is set by thoughts—the lies—you entertain as truth. But self-sabotage was something “other people” did. In the meantime, I expected I would always be disappointed when it came to relationships, and it kept happening.
That’s what I did for a decade.
Obviously, there’s a real enemy that’s lying to us. There are real forces that do not want us to discover we are beautiful, intriguing, and worth getting to know. So it wasn’t me constantly muttering, “You will always be disappointed,” but it was me agreeing with it. Whether or not I decided to be a powerless victim in the face of those lies was actually up to me.
Up to me—shocking, right? (I love free will until I make bad decisions with it).
But I wasn’t alone. Three years ago, God started whispering some truth. Well, I think He’s been whispering it my whole life, but it was three years ago that I started actually listening and asking for more. What He told me started out as foreign, but exactly what I needed to hear. And it’s what I still need to plaster on the walls of my brain every single day.
Finally, I don’t think my friends, youth leaders, and mentors were ever wrong. God writes beautiful stories, and those take time. This journey hasn’t been pointless, by any means. I’m confident that the lessons I’ve learned will be vital to a relationship in the future (like how to cook rice—well, can’t do it without a rice cooker yet).
But I would I hate if I never took responsibility for ways I’ve self-sabotaged my life because lies I believed about myself. I don’t want to ever blame the people around me—or God—for thought-patterns I entertained as true. I want to take responsibility for my actions, and move forward. How?
I’ll wait. And wait. Then wait some more.
And with every day, month, or year I will plaster the truth that God says about me—not just on the walls of my brain, but in the depths of my heart.
What truth do you need to hear today?
