I hadn't done much video chatting before 2020, but all of a sudden, video chatting became the new normal. Google Meet and Zoom became typical places for gathering. While video chatting is great for connecting with friends and family members who live far away, it can never replace in-person interactions and relationships.
This poem is based on an analogy from Scripture. As the church, Christ's bride, we can live in gratitude and joy because we no longer wear darkness and shame. Just as the groom typically wears a black suit and the bride typically wears a white dress at their wedding, Christ wore black—our sin—so that we could wear white—His righteousness.
God's nature is persistent, strong, and steady. He doesn't leave. He doesn't give up. He doesn't wave. While I am not advocating habitual sin in this poem, I am advocating habitual returning to God's forgiveness.
I'm afraid that if I loosen my grip on Maddy, she'll become less close with me and become closer to her other friends. Ultimately, if I don't grasp the reigns of our relationship, I'm scared it will become shallow...and perhaps even nonexistent. I'm not saying that I'm going to let go of my relationship with Maddy. But grasping this relationship so tightly is making me exhausted. So who should I grasp instead?
We hold onto stress because we are natural worriers, and we believe the lie that a good dose of stress is healthy because it keeps us on track to succeed and accomplish. But, honestly, we often stress about things that don't end up happening. And, on top of that, life is ultimately out of our control because our God is sovereign. So what would happen if we just let go of our stress?
I know what it feels like to be the outsider looking in. So that's what this poem is about—watching your friends start dating, get married, and have families. This poem is about feeling stuck on the sidelines and wondering how long you'll be waiting. But the waiting isn't meaningless. You'll see why.
Despite what many Christians will tell you (or imply), it's actually okay to feel empty. You're not less of a Christian because you can't see, hear, or feel God right now...even if that "right now" period lasts for a while. It isn't our job as believers to conjure up emotions that don't exist.
If God is my everything, I don’t need anything. I don’t need a date for Friday night. I don’t need a boyfriend who buys me flowers. I don’t need a husband who holds me in his arms. And I don’t need Four. Because I have Him.