I can remember the very moment that I stopped believing in God the Savior. Well, at least the series of moments. It went like this. Nineteen years old and as naïve as ever. Everything was great until it wasn’t. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
I was in love with a man whose love for me was always uncertain. However, this uncertainty is what I thrived on. It was fun. It was mysterious, and the mystery, provocative. I was a ball of energy, of light, of yellow and all things young and innocent. He was darkness, temptation, a gray-area that brought about a rainbow of emotions into my chaste soul. It was a masterpiece of a love. Until it wasn’t.
Big, rough hands touching my slim, sweaty palms. There were wrinkles when he smiled, followed by the sound of my heart-beat. Thump, thump, thuuu-thump. Most was unknown, but I knew that he would be the one I’d marry. Until I didn’t anymore.
There were four words that changed my life— the way I would learn to love, mature to see the world, the way I would learn to think and feel. They were: not meant to be. It sounded much more harrowing when he said to me, “It’s just not meant to be.” And I thought how could his hand in mine, his wrinkles making my heart go thump, thump, thuuu-thump, his gray and my yellow, and the sweet rainbow that was our love… How could that not be meant to be? I didn’t understand until one day I did.
I wanted someone to blame. I needed someone, and at times like these, it’s the easiest to turn to God. It tends to not be a priority when all is happy and well. When all is going the way that I’d perceive it should, God tends to be put on the back burner, but when my life is in shambles and I’m falling apart because he doesn’t love me the way I want him to I turn to HIM. And what is HE supposed to do? Well, fix things of course.
“Dear Heavenly Father. God the Savior. Please move. Move so that I know you’re there. Move so that I’m not hurting anymore. Move so that he loves me again. Move so that it is meant to be.”
I needed to be saved because I didn’t think I could do it on my own, but I had to realize that God isn’t a lifeline that I should call upon only when I’m feeling alone. He said, “Save yourself.”
I believe in God the Father. God the Son. Even God the Holy Spirit. I believe in the Creator of Heaven and Earth and God the Almighty and the God who died for all sins. I think that, perhaps, at one time, his role was to be the savior, but I don’t agree that this role of His is ongoing. Here is my guess, and it’s just a guess. Because guesses are all I really have right now. My guess is that God the Creator has created in such a way that we don’t need a savior. We have to save ourselves. We have to save ourselves from giving up on the life he has created and especially, especially from chasing things that are not meant to be.