The Zoo I Made

In high school, I was positive that I had perfectly planned the rest of my life. I felt God moving, and I assumed that movement indicated His approval of my plans. Now I know that the movement certainly was God, but it was His protection from my narrow plans and guidance into His limitless ones. He protected me from staying with someone who wasn't His will for my life and from taking a college/career path that He did not want for me. But I was addicted to me. I thought that being devoted to someone else made me less selfish, but I was blinded by infatuation. Devoting to that person was fulfilling only to myself.

God was jealous. He wanted me back. I responded with the attitude that He could have me, but only if I could have my version of His will. God wanted only me -- without my plans, without the person I was enamored with, and without the impositions of others who thought they knew me. Without those things, I didn't know who I was. The “me” that God wanted seemed far under par. I hated me. I saw the “me” that God had asked for and said “But don't You want more? She isn't good enough for anyone, especially You.” Making straight A's wasn't good enough. Being busy with church and school wasn't good enough. Having my own decent plans wasn't good enough. The guy whom I thought that I loved had even labeled me “not good enough.” Why would God want that for Himself? I hated the “me” that God wanted, and seeing His desire for the “me” I couldn't love was astounding. I didn't want God to love “me” until I could understand why. All the plans and efforts were my attempt to be deserving.

I failed. I failed consistently for over two years. The person whom I thought loved me back became the deciding factor for every move I made. He molded my world view. He implied that he was greater than me only because of his gender. He assumed control of my emotions. He changed who I was. And not a single moment of that was his fault. I had chosen to be in that position. I had failed. I was successful on the outside to my friends and family, but I felt failure in my life that no one else saw or believed.

Sometimes I wonder why no one chose to tell me how much control I was allowing this teenage boy to have over my life, my beliefs, and my personality. In hindsight, they hadn't confronted me because I had held up a mask for so long that I eventually chose the artificial to be my reality. I thought I was happy. They thought I was happy. Only God knew the core of me. With each flashing ember of hope, I wanted to reach into the smoking ashes and retrieve my plans. But this refining process was closer to God's will than those human plans. He was striping away my artificial coverings, and getting down to who He had made me to be. Months later, reality hit. The outside me was gone. To my surprise, I wasn't devastated. I was liberated. I stood in shock staring into the blackened fire pit of my dreams, shock not so much that they had disappeared as that I was relieved of them. Throughout that time, I had prayed prayers like wishes for what I thought was best, and I watched as everything I had prayed for slowly burned. Still, God was there showing me a better way, loving the real me all the while.

Can you imagine every prayer you've ever prayed being answered exactly how you wanted. As a kid, it may mean you got every golden retriever, iguana, or parakeet you ever asked for. As we grow older, we assume that we are mature enough to know what is best for us, but the truth remains: even an adult life would resemble a zoo if all prayers came true like magical wishes. I am so blessed to have a God who knows what is best for His child, and who listens to my soul instead of my impulses.

The miracle that Jesus Christ saved me from sin and Hell is unfathomable. Yet, I will be forever grateful simply that He saved me from myself.