The Dream of Being a Wife

The Bible tells us that when he learned Lazarus was sick, Jesus “stayed where he was for the next two days” (John 11:6, NLT). This meant that when Jesus arrived in Bethany, Lazarus had been dead for four days. Both Martha and Mary confronted him, saying, “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died” (John 11:21, 32, NLT). Despite Jesus’ love for all three siblings, he chose to stay away, to let Lazarus die–because he knew the story would end with the glory of God.

 There’s been lots of death in my life: the physical death of friends and family, my own spiritual death from sinful choices, and the metaphorical death of dreams that weren’t meant to be. Thankfully, the deaths of loved ones have been made easier by the hope of heaven. And Jesus has brought new life to my soul on countless occasions. Hindsight has shown me the death of one dream often leads to the birth of a better one.

 But there’s one dream, the death of which I struggle to deal with in any semblance of a healthy way.

 It feels like the dream of being a wife got sick around the time I was twenty-seven, as friends from college were getting married or starting to have kids. There was still hope, but it was starting to fade. I was praying Jesus would come and heal it. But he didn’t.

 I’d place the time of death on my thirtieth birthday, just about two years ago. It seemed clear Jesus wasn’t going to bring healing, to revive the prospects of my dream coming true anytime soon. I clung to it as it died, trying to will it back to life, trying to breathe my own life into it. It had been around for as long as I could remember, a part of my life and even a part of me; I didn’t know what to do without it.

 All my clinging and willing hasn’t worked. Even so, I’m clinging to it still, living in the tomb with it, waiting for the moment I might see the tiniest spark of life. I carry the stench of death and bitterness. I wail in anger and grief, wondering why Jesus has abandoned me to this reality. I don’t understand why he didn’t come when healing was all this dream needed. Why did he let it die? Did I do something that made me unworthy of this dream?

 Jesus, if you had only come, my dream would not have died.

 I am convinced Jesus could bring resurrection. He could bring my dream back to life in a heartbeat. I know he can do this.

 But I’m just as thoroughly convinced that he won’t, that he doesn’t want to–because he isn’t good.

If Jesus were good, he wouldn’t have let my dream die in the first place. He would have realized what it meant to me, and he would have given it to me. If he were good, I’d be sitting next to my husband right now instead of draped over this corpse of a dream in this tomb.

 These are the words my heart repeats. This is the reality of how I feel: abandoned, unworthy, unloved, unlovable. Somewhere in my head (and maybe even in my heart), I know I’m not any of those things.

Here’s the spiritual reality: Jesus is standing outside the tomb calling my name–lovingly, tenderly. He wants so much more for me than the half-life of clinging to this corpse. He wants to show me that he is good despite how I feel. He wants to bring resurrection to my faith in him. He wants to show me the glory that will come from my situation.

 But this requires letting go. He can’t show me all of that if I’m in the tomb. And I can’t leave the tomb until I let go of my dream. Do I have the strength to do that? Can I let my dream go, stand up, and walk out to meet Jesus? Can I leave the unfulfilled desires of my heart at his feet and let him show me how he is better than all of them?

 To do so feels like I’m giving up on my dream, resigning myself to the idea that it might be dead for good. I don’t know if I can do that. Then again, walking away doesn’t make it disappear. It will always be there in that tomb, ready for a resurrection. Only Jesus knows which ending to my story will bring God the greater glory. I will choose to trust that he is good, regardless of the ending.

Katie Mumper is a daughter, sister, friend, writer, and singer. She loves Jesus, music, books, and great TV shows. Because she’s far from perfect, she is grateful for God’s grace in her life. She writes with the hope that others might be encouraged to let God make them new as well. You can read more of her work at beautyrestored.me.