Recently, a gentleman came into my life.  He was sweet and thoughtful and overwhelmingly kind— he was genuinely a good guy.  There was a period that was filled with fun and flirting: the smiling when I saw his name light up my phone and the late nights getting to know each other.  I had all the butterflies and he had all the captivations.  It was new, but it seemed like it could work out.

 

But something in my gut told me that he wasn’t the one for me.

 

I’m not really someone who dates I don’t really see the appeal of dating just to date.  I believe that dating leads to marriage, and at this point in my life, I wouldn’t waste someone’s time if I didn’t think that it could end up in that direction.  I meet men, but no one quite captures my attention enough to intrigue me into the chase.

 

But this guy hit my marks.  If I had to sit down and make a list, he would check off almost all my boxes.  He was tall and handsome and chivalrous and outgoing.  He was forward in his pursuit and didn’t cower in fear of rejection.  He made me laugh and stood up for the things that I stood up for.  He was great.  There was nothing wrong with him.  Nothing whatsoever— except, he wasn’t right, for me.

 

He had almost all the things that I needed in order to give him my “yes”, except for one.

 

He wasn’t as in love with Jesus as I was.

 

It’s not that he didn’t love God: it was that he didn’t love Him as much as I do.

 

I understand that relationships can move in waves: one party might be further along than the other, then a tide comes and moves the other partner further ahead, but for the most part, I think that God’s heart is to see us partnered with others whose pursuit similarly mirrors our own.  While it is certainly ok for me to be with someone who’s walk looks different than mine, in this instance, it didn’t feel right.

 

I want someone I can run to.  I want someone I can run with.

 

When I sit back and think about what I want in a partner, I know that I want someone who cries during worship because the weight of glory is too much for them to handle.  I want someone who will quote the Bible when I am lost and lead me to Jesus when I need to be found.  I want someone who is so desperately— so recklessly and unabatingly and unmovingly— dedicated to my Jesus that nothing else matters if it’s not laid at the foot of the cross.

 

I want desperation for the Lord.  I want car rides soaked in worship and Friday nights saturated with presence.  I want hopeless love and affection for the Father.

 

I wanted a lot of things, and I’m afraid that I wanted more than that sweet boy had to give.

 

There was really nothing wrong with him.  I’m sure he loved Jesus in all the right ways.  But he just didn’t love Jesus the way that I needed him to.

 

We were like ships in the night: passing closely— breath of one’s mast kissing the sails of the other’s— but never touching.

 

I want someone who writes.  I want someone who carves mountains out of clay and oceans out of the ordinary.  I want a wordsmith who can help literate my heart’s cry for the Holy One.

 

I want someone who understands the poetry that I see in everyday life.  I walk through life with rose-colored glasses on and I want someone who gets that. I want someone who appreciates the innate beauty and mystical wonder that I see the world with.  I want someone who finds heaven on earth or changes his perspective until he does.

 

I want someone who can be all that I can be and more, but I think I was willing to give up what I wanted in order to receive what was right in front of me.

 

This beautiful man in front of me was perfect— but he wasn’t perfect for me.

 

I knew at the beginning.

 

I knew from the start that something was off.

 

I didn’t know that I knew though, until something escaped my mouth that I didn’t plan… “He’s like the Tarvin House.”

 

When this relationship first came about, I was texting one of my girlfriends about him.  We were talking about his relationship with Jesus, and all of the sudden, I spat something out without thinking about it first.  “It’s like the house situation all over again.”

 

Some time ago, I felt the Lord start urging me to buy a house and settle down.  I have always been a rolling stone, moving from one place to the next.  I prided myself in never settling down, convincing myself that slowing down and stopping was weak— and I had no desire to be weak.

 

But one night, I gave it all up.

 

All the fears and anxieties that kept me from wanting to be anchored in one place dissipated.  All the worries and the pains of rejection and weakness evaporated.  Everything that kept me moving flew far away and the peace of the Lord flew in.

 

So, I began my house search.  I looked for months and months, never really stopping and settling on anything.

 

All the while, there was this one house that kept popping up.

 

On a street called Tarvin Road, there was a quaint little house in the country.  It was much smaller than I wanted— coming in at twelve or thirteen hundred square feet, it was too small for my liking.

 

The house was built in the early 2000’s, so everything was somewhat dated.  It only needed a little bit of love in the form of paint, but I just couldn’t sell myself on it.

 

The rooms were tiny and cramped, and the house was boxy and closed off.  It wasn’t a bad house, and it most certainly would be a wonderful first home, but it just didn’t feel like my house.

 

It came up at the beginning of my search, but I never got to see it before it went under contract, so I kept looking.  A month later, it popped up again, back on the market.  I looked through the pictures again, unimpressed, but I was left wondering if its timely reintroduction was the Lord trying to redirect me to it.

 

Again, I passed, and again, it went under contract.  I kept looking for my first home but to no avail.

 

Not long after that, the house went up for sale again.  This time, my mind went spinning.  It checked off a lot of the boxes that I had on my mind, but not all of them.  It was good, but it wasn’t the best.

 

So, I stepped back and let it go again.  As surely as the Lord would have it, it came back on the market again.  I prayed and prayed, asking the Lord if He wanted me to buy that house.  Every time I prayed, I felt the Lord stop me and tell me that He was waiting to give me something better.

 

Time went on and my search continued.  The Tarvin Road house went on the market a total of five times.  Each and every time that it went under contract, the buyer’s loan status fell through.

 

The fifth and final time that it went on the market, I decided to go see it.

 

I kept praying about buying the houses and I kept getting the same answer, but it didn’t seem to align with what I saw right in front of me.  I thought that I was hearing something, but in the push and pull of my desire to own a home, I convinced myself that I was hearing wrong and went and saw the house anyways.

 

On that overcast Thursday afternoon when I got to the house, I found that it was on the back end of a somewhat shabby neighborhood.  The houses were a bit run-down, the neighbor’s yards were unkempt, but not overgrown, and loud but unthreatening dogs barked incessantly from the moment of my arrival to the moment of my departure.

 

The house’s location was lackluster, but it wasn’t the worst.

 

It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was right in front of me.

 

I told my realtor that I wanted to go home and think about it, but that I would likely put an offer in on it in the morning.  Home I went, still unsettled but weary of the lack of options in front of me.

 

I prayed all night, convinced that I was hearing wrong, seeing wrong, feeling wrong.  It wasn’t all that I wanted, but maybe it was all that I deserved. Maybe that house is all that God has in store for me.

 

“Just wait,” I heard the voice of the Lord say.  “Just wait my love.”

 

Friday morning, as I was penning a message to my realtor, that Word was on my heart.  Just wait.

 

I paused for a moment and closed my eyes, begging the Lord to deliver His promise to me so that I would know that the one right in front of me wasn’t it.  Immediately, I felt my phone ding as an email came in.

 

Curious, I abandoned my offer and turned to my email.

 

There, sitting before me, was the gorgeous house that I now own.

 

In my inbox, moments away from an offer for a house that was good but not great, sat my dream home.

 

Only seconds separated the two in time, but entire worlds separated them in what they had to offer.

 

The second house— my house— was large and in a nice subdivision.  It was spacious and had an open concept and a wood burning fireplace.  It had large rooms and a large living room and a huge driveway: perfect for hosting.  It didn’t just hit a lot of the marks on my checklist: it had all the marks on my checklist.

 

I could have survived in the Tarvin Road house.  I could have had a nice life and a beautiful home.  But it was missing a few things that were important to me, and in turn, it was missing a few things that were important to God.

 

Waiting just a moment longer had me receiving something bigger and better.  Although the first house was nice, the second one was perfect.

 

The gentleman in front of me was nice, but he wasn’t perfect.  He was good enough, but he wasn’t great.  He would have met most of my needs, but he wouldn’t ever be able to fully take care of me.

 

When we make the conscious decision to both believe that we are deserving of the best and that God is going to give us the best, we receive the best.  When we decide to wait on overflow instead of just fullness, we are blessed beyond measure.

 

Full will do.  Good will do.  Meeting needs will do, but– overflow is better.  Great is better.  Perfection is better.

 

He has all we need if we are just willing to wait and not settle for what is second best.  So, grab ahold of your promise and don’t let go.  Overflow is coming!  Abandon what is better to receive what is best.