Stitches

To know me at all is to know I love words. Time and time again I am undone by what language can do. The fact that I serve a God who created not only my language but over 6,500 other languages (that does not include those that have died out) blows my mind. Can you comprehend that with paragraphs, formed by sentences, composed of words, made up of letters, designed by strokes of a pen we can express our innermost thoughts and feelings? Without language, we could not even think in sentences. How would you express how you feel if you couldn’t put words to what it was? Language is beautiful and stunning and some of us use it better than others. One of my favorite life experiences is when God uses language to illuminate His scriptures. When, with one simple word, like a key, it unlocks an entire passage or biblical concept. 

This was the case for me last Sunday. Our pastor was preaching on the relationship between David and Jonathan. Now, you should know I have always loved Jonathan. My two favorite bible stories since childhood have been Esther (duh, kick-butt queen to the rescue … I’m imaging Gal Gadot from Wonder Woman) and Jonathan and David. You could say that God oriented my heart to relationships from an early age. I have always loved people and loved them deeply. (Notice I didn’t say I have always loved them well.) Friends filled the void for siblings and cousins. With age, their meaning in my life has only deepened. As an adult, I have found myself in seasons where I feel “obsessed” with specific friends. They are always on my heart and mind. I pray for them while I get ready in the morning, throughout the day, and when I crawl into bed. For years, this made me feel––weird, strange, and slightly obsessive. I would come back to God time and time again asking Him what was wrong with me. This wasn’t the case for every friend, just specific ones. Did this mean I was a horrible friend who loved the others less? 

No matter how much the Holy Spirit would ease this fear, Satan would come crawling back in to tell me something was wrong with me. I was overwhelming and should just leave people alone. This past Sunday, it all clicked. The fog lifted from the mountains and I saw clearly what the Spirit had been whispering for so long. “As soon as he had finished speaking to Saul, the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul.” 1 Samuel 18:1. This constant affection was not of my own making but the Lord’s. He had knit my soul to another for such a time as this. 

Knit. Sew. Stitched. Bound together were the souls of Jonathan and David. Knit by the gentle hands of God. These two men were connected in a way that they probably couldn’t have verbalized to anyone else. Jonathan loved David “as his own soul.” And, I get that. I certainly don’t do a great job with it nine times out of ten, but I get it. One of my favorite authors also understood it. 

C.S. Lewis says in his book The Four Loves:

“But in Friendship … we think we have chosen our peers. In reality, a few years’ difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another, posting to different regiments, the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting—any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking, no chances. A secret Master of the Ceremonies has been at work. Christ, who said to the disciples ‘Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,’ can truly say to every group of Christian friends ‘You have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another.’” 

Cue the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I, once again, remember the all-knowing God who has orchestrated every relationship I have. I would also like to take this moment to encourage you to read The Four Loves if you never have. I truly know no other book that has expounded on the love of Christ in such depth and understanding in my life. Read it. Right now. Well, as soon as you finish this post. 

If God orchestrates relationships then He also controls the depths of them. So, to answer my tear-stained question, no there was nothing wrong with me. God has only knit my heart to a few people. (I could truly count them on one hand.) Does this negate the dear friendships that He has not done this to? Absolutely not! I love them and treasure them; and, honestly, most days they are easier than the soul-stitched ones. 

That’s the thing with stitching your soul to another’s. It’s painful. And, in this world, it’s not natural. Two hearts that love each other beyond expression but seem to tug and pull at their adjoined seems. What do you do when your stitches itch? When one soul is running away instead of leaning in? How do you know if it’s time to rip out the stitches and leave? Funnily enough, these bound friendships are the ones I have the hardest time being fully honest about my hurts. When their heart pulls and breaks a stitch in my heart, I often keep silent. I love them so much I don’t want to hurt them by telling them they have hurt me. I know it was unintentional, why bring it up? But, if our hearts are to stay healthily bound then we must address the oozing wound. (I’m preaching to my own heart right now.) A healing balm of communication and forgiveness must be applied or the wound will continue to be infected. 

“Eros will have naked bodies,” wrote C.S. Lewis. “Friendship naked personalities.” This nakedness is necessary for two hearts attached. Whether it is naked honesty, naked confession, nakedness––vulnerability––is key. When your adjoined soul is running away, you press in. You show up naked. That’s right, I said it. But, please don’t show up on your friend’s lawn in your natural glory. Even if you are that close, it’s illegal. While staying fully clothed, you bring your bare heart and love ever deeper. This is one of the most excruciating experiences of my life. Every fiber of my being says, “we have been wounded and now we must run!” Yet, everywhere I look in scripture God never runs. He didn’t run away from Adam and Eve, they ran. He never ran away from the Jews, they ran. He didn’t run from the cross. If Christ can endure the cross in the name of love, then I can suffer my simple human pains. All the while, bringing them to His healing hands. 

Lean in when it hurts. I find myself ranting and confessing the hurt in the morning only to be instructed to reach out in love in the afternoon. I buck against it because showing love to someone who is hurting me feels like stepping into the role of a glutton for punishment. Raise your hand if you want your heart rung today! No, thank you. But, in the wrestling with God, I find His voice calling me into His kind of love. So, I reach out––most of the time––mainly out of sheer obedience not desire. But, no matter the motive, when I show love to these knitted souls I find more love waiting to be given to them. I am always left flabbergasted by God’s economy of love. It makes no sense and yet complete sense when you experience it. By loving others in their brokenness I am humbled and awed at God’s unending love for me in my brokenness

The most difficult question I have had to ask in these relationships is, do I ever get to cut and run? Is there ever a time I can pull out the stitches and say sayonara? Yes and no. Yes, there may be a season when it is time to disentangle your heart but that is not your call to make. Your responsibility is to daily surrender these relationships to the Lord and ask Him how He is calling you to steward them. I have asked many times if I can sever the ties (remember I’m an emotional runner) and all but once God has spoken an emphatic “no.” He has brought my heart into the ring and will be there to help bandage the wounds but I don’t get to leave the fight. Some seasons He might call a timeout, knowing how weary and worn my soul is and that rest with Him will equip me to reenter the battle. But rarely will He lift the ropes and let me give up.   

After reading and re-reading this scripture in 1 Samuel, I am struck by the wording “and Jonathan loved him [David] as his own soul.” We never read in this passage that David reciprocated Jonathan’s deep love. Yes, we know God knit their souls to one another, but to love someone as your own soul takes it one step further. It’s active. God did the sewing and Jonathan was active in his loving of David. This type of love is not passive. It doesn’t sit and wait on the other but initiates time and time again. Did David love Jonathan in the same way? If not, how did Jonathan cope with the ache and pain? We may never know, but I’m guessing––like David––he took this heartbreak to the Lord. For me, that’s the one place I have been able to take these wounds. I find myself at His feet day after day, wishing I didn’t love so deeply. But, then I wonder, how empty my life would be without this depth of love. 

Have you ever experienced this “chesed” love? This loving-kindness. Has your heart been knit to another? Is there a friend you love as your own soul? (Let’s remember this is the type of relationship referenced. Unconditional, covenantal love can be known fully outside of marriage if we will allow God to reveal it to us. That is the single woman in me shouting “YAS!”) Do you have people in your life who ask you, no need you, to show up for them? And when they ask, do you show up even when it’s inconvenient? One of my dearest friends would be vulnerable and reach out when she needed friendship, always with the caveat that I didn’t have to come if I was busy. The more I thought and prayed over this idea, I felt deeply convicted that I didn’t get to say “no.” I couldn’t find a scripture that said if it was inconvenient for me then I didn’t have to show up and love my sister-in-Christ. My showing up didn’t have to look the same each time or in each stage of life but it wasn’t excused. If I had a spouse, I could explain to him that a dear friend needed me for a little while. If I had kids, I could have told her to come over after they were in bed. I have no excuses not to love her. 

I pray that you will allow God to bind your soul to a friend. It will hurt more often than not; but, I promise it is worth it. To love another sister as your own soul is one of the most rewarding relationships you will ever have. Pursue it. Savor it. And, at the end of the day, always surrender it to the One who gave it to you.