My Beloved Daniel

This is a continuation of Daniel’s and my story. Click on the “Our Story” tag for context.

Biweekly calls became our standard and I looked forward to Wednesday night and Saturday afternoon conversations with Daniel. We talked very candidly about a wide variety of topics-from legalism and judgmentalism to childraising philosophies to evangelism to personality tests to how to discern whether a movie or a book is worth seeing or reading.

We continued writing one another and I’d shared my thoughts on a few controversial doctrines one Tuesday night-and then sat on tenterhooks all through the next day waiting for our evening conversation.

These topics-or specifically my stance on a couple of these topics–had been dealbreakers in previous relationships with men. Would Daniel think, like the others, that I was a heretic? Would he decide he didn’t want to talk to me anymore?

By this time, I was starting to confess to myself and to Cathy that I thought I liked Daniel.

I asked Daniel that evening what he’d thought of what I’d written-and was much relieved that he didn’t consider me a heretic. I was so relieved that I rather monopolized the later part of our conversation, going on and on about my views on some of those tricky theological points.

We wouldn’t be talking that Saturday, because Daniel had planned a camping trip/retreat so he could spend time with God. I knew this was important to Daniel-he’d mentioned some of the shopping and other preparations he’d been making for his trip.

I’d not realized exactly how big a deal this trip was to him until I saw his Facebook status update:

“Driving up into the Rockies with a manual, one of the funnest things ever. I can’t imagine how much less fun it would have been with an automatic.”

You see, I’d just assumed his retreat was a weekend thing and that he’d be camping right around where he lived. This status told me just how much I’d underestimated the scope of his trip.

I was still in 1 John and God had been speaking to me about walking in love and how love for the brethren is a sign that one is truly born again.

When I saw Daniel’s status, I realized how much I’d failed to love Daniel by not asking about his trp-a trip that was clearly very important to him.

We had communion at church the next day and I seriously considered letting the elements pass me by. I had sinned against my brother in my self-interested failure to ask about his life. I was torn up inside over my selfishness.

Once home from church, I knew what I should do. I wrote a quick message to Daniel:

“I’m wondering how long this retreat of yours is slated to last… I’m eager to hear all about it, but don’t want to interrupt your actually retreating. So pay me no mind until you’re done, but know that I’m interested in learning all about your camping and communing with God. :-)”

The moment I sent the message off, I was at peace again. I was in the process of rectifying the situation, learning to truly love my brother.

This is a continuation of Daniel’s and my story. Click on the “Our Story” tag for context.

Is it not just the nature of God to not allow us to become comfortable or complacent in any season of our lives? Just when I came to a peace with the correspondence between Daniel and I, things changed.

Daniel asked if he could call me.

I agreed and we arranged for our first phone call.

He called and we talked for a little less than two hours. When we hung up, I drew my bathwater and cried.

It had been awkward, uncomfortable. I’ve never been a phone person, and this had been awkward on so many levels.

Sometimes he couldn’t hear me. Sometimes I couldn’t hear him. We had to ask each other to repeat what we’d said several times. There were awkward silences while we tried to figure out what we should say next. I was pretty sure I’d been an awful conversationalist, failing to do my part to keep the conversational ball rolling.

And I realized, somewhat to my surprise, that this really bothered me. I knew the odds of his being romantically interested in me after that conversation were slim-but I worried that now that he knew that, he wouldn’t want to correspond with me anymore. And that prospect was heartbreaking.

I loved corresponding about books and philosophy and science and the sovereignty of God with Daniel. And now I had ruined it.

I considered writing Daniel, apologizing for not having told him in advance how terrible I was at phone conversation. I wanted to salvage whatever I could.

But God urged me to trust Him, to let Daniel lead. So I told God my thoughts and did nothing.

You can’t imagine my elation when I received a message from Daniel two days later asking if he could call me again.

I had not lost my new friend, this man with whose mind mine had so connected.

This is a continuation of Daniel’s and my story. Click on the “Our Story” tag for context.

I was actively at war against idolatry, but it was a private war. I hadn’t told anyone. At least, not in any detail. I had told Daniel a little about the Timothy Keller book, and had said “Even now, weeks from reading the book, I’m still thinking and praying about what I learned about idolatry, especially about idols in my own heart.”

Daniel had probed about my idols, and I was suddenly shy.

So far, we’d been writing lengthy messages back and forth, covering the usual get-to-know-you stuff and some more weighty intellectual topics. But we hadn’t entered the realm of the heart. This seemed a rather hefty topic on which to enter that realm. I hesitated.

At the same time, I was reading through 1 John daily. Just then, 1 John 1:7 began to stick out to me.

“If we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, aand the blood of Jesus His Son cleanses us from all sin.”

I realized that I needed to confess my idolatry to another, that I needed to walk in the light regarding my longstanding sin. But I wasn’t sure Daniel was the best person to confess to.

I went to my friend Cathy to confess and ask for her advice.

After hearing me out, Cathy asked whether I thought it was wise that I was writing to Daniel just as God was working in my heart to overthrow the idol of marriage.

I confessed that I didn’t know, couldn’t decide. I didn’t feel that I was making Daniel my focus, didn’t think I was making marriage an idol again in my interaction with him. But I feared that I would, feared I’d been rash in accepting the introduction.

Cathy listened and agreed to pray with me about that decision. And so we did. For the next week, I earnestly entreated God to show me if He didn’t want me talking with Daniel just then. Cathy prayed too.

When we got together the next week, neither of us felt we’d received a definitive answer from God. In the absence of any word from the Lord otherwise, I continued writing Daniel.

Over the next couple of weeks, God confirmed through many sources the work that He had done in my life in overthrowing the idol of marriage. At last, I came to a peace with the fact that Daniel and I were getting to know each other.

This is a continuation of Daniel’s and my story. Read part 1 for context.

I had mixed feelings about Jeremy’s offer. Here I was learning how to enthrone Christ and dethrone marriage–and God sends temptation my way in the form of a setup. I don’t want to lose the ground I’ve been gaining, learning to make Christ my supreme treasure. At the same time, I am acutely conscious of how often I have whined that people don’t understand how to set others up–and commented that I wouldn’t at all mind being the recipient of a setup done right.

Jeremy did the set-up right. He got the idea and mentioned it to the man (to Daniel). Once Daniel had assented to the idea of being set up with me, Jeremy had approached me about arranging an introduction. Everything was just the way I’d described “the proper way” to set someone up. I rather felt that I’d be a hypocrite if I refused the setup after all my whining.

I sent Jeremy a message that evening saying that I would be okay with a Facebook introduction, but that I wasn’t sure how much time I’d be able to spend on a relationship since I was pretty busy at work (which was very true.)

I spent the next couple of weeks second guessing myself.

Was this wise? I hadn’t spent much time praying about it-had kinda responded on impulse. I was still choosing to delight myself in Christ, wasn’t obsessing over Daniel. But the fact that I’d just agreed to the introduction before I knew for sure that I should troubled me.

It started when I picked up Timothy Keller’s Counterfeit Gods
from the library bookshelf. I’d read books by Keller before and knew that I enjoyed his writing style and respected his theology. It would be an easy read.

What I didn’t count on was how God would use that book to change my heart.

“Idols capture our imagination, and we can locate them by looking at our daydreams. What do we enjoy imagining? What are our fondest dreams?”
~Timothy Keller, Counterfeit Gods p. xxii

When I read those words, I knew exactly what served as my most prominent idol: marriage.

For years, marriage had been my fondest daydream. What’s more, it had become what Jerry Bridges calls a “functional savior”. When times got hard at work and I was stressed, I thought “If only I were married I wouldn’t have to work a job like this to support myself.” When I didn’t have time to pursue the domestic tasks I so enjoy, I thought “If only I were married and could be a stay-at-home wife.” I considered marriage to be the answer to whatever problem I felt I had.

Life would be perfect if only I were married.

And then God flashed the word “idol” with neon lights above my daydreams.

Keller’s book was just what I needed, both to identify my idol and to give direction for overcoming it. Keller emphasized that idols couldn’t just be dethroned, Christ had to be enthroned.

By God’s grace, I began to dethrone marriage and enthrone Christ at the center of my heart.

Then I got the Facebook message sent to my phone.

“Rebekah
I want you to know that I have a policy against doing what I’m about to be doing…”

I was at my parents’ house for the weekend, there for my niece’s first birthday party. As a result, I really didn’t have easy access to the internet. I mused on the strange intro a bit, but figured that Jeremy was going to ask for nutrition advice.

When I logged on to the internet the next morning, I discovered just how wrong my assumption had been.

Jeremy was asking for permission to set me up with a friend of his–who happened to also be his sister’s brother-in-law.

To be continued…