How A Breakup Can Be The Biggest Blessing

“We need to break up,” I said as I looked at him longingly across the table. We were seated in a Starbucks, I had just come from a shoot and he had just come from work. We had really just come from a fight a day and a half prior to our meeting.

After one whole day of not talking to me and me allowing him time, he was finally ready to fix things. And so was I. The only sensible thing to do was to break it off. He would probably be confused as I had been messaging him the entire day of silence to please talk to me, but it was what God told me to do.

 

That’s not how it happened.

He apologized for his wrong actions and I broke down. The truth is, I couldn’t break up with him. I needed to give it one more shot. And so we went to visit our friend at the hospital wherein a short while after upon leaving, we got into another fight.

 

“I think it’s time we went our separate ways,” I said as I was sitting right next to him in the car. He had just told me exactly what my conflict was. “You’re confused between your love for God and your love for me.” He was right in every sense of the statement. I was praying the entire time we were there.

 

I didn’t do it. Again.

I looked over at him and forced a smile. “Let’s talk about this another time. Good night. I love you.”

 

 

“We can’t be together anymore, and I’m sorry.” I was walking a little ahead, I saw the park bench and we both sat down. We had had one of our first crucial memories here. Both drunk, we decided to keep drinking in the lawn next to the bars of Capitol Commons. It was around 2:00 a.m. and the caretaker let us stay. I knew then I was in love with him, and he looked at me differently that night. He felt the same way.

What better place to end things cordially, with maybe just a hint of that forlorn memory? But I couldn’t.

I kept walking past the park into the bar we frequented. After excusing myself to go to the bathroom where I pleaded with God to give me one more chance, and I knew I had none, I came back to the table. I stopped a few feet away and studied his face. I wasn’t going to break his heart.

Sitting down beside him, I grabbed the menu. “What are you getting? A beer?” I ordered and swallowed the tears I had been choking back. God was merciful, He’d give me time.

 

Three times. It should have happened. Three perfect moments to end what I considered my most beautiful relationship to date. My partner-in-crime, my twin, the Deadpool to my Vanessa, the crazy that matched my crazy.

See, it’s not every day that you find the male version of yourself. And it’s not every day that the entire universe agrees. We were twins. We came in a package. You buy him, you gotta buy me. Inseparable. Invincible. Impossible to break.

Well, look at that irony.

How we really broke up? In respect to what we had, I will never share online. Those details will not be misconstrued by my lack of judgment and understanding, till now. And I still care about him. Why else would I have delayed writing this?

So let’s get to the point. How does seemingly the hardest thing to do in life (a breakup) end up becoming the biggest blessing of your life?

That was the question I pondered on as I looked out over the ocean with a blanket wrapped around me. My hair still rain-soaked, my eyes bloodshot and swollen, my tongue and throat dry, my stomach grumbling from hunger, I was a wreck. The images of the night before kept flashing before my eyes. Him walking out the door, the last time I’d ever see him. He was gone. He had really left me.

The night before we broke up, we fought and I ran out. I stood at the same shoreline crying to God in desperation, and I still remember clearly my very loud prayer. “YOU DO IT, GOD, I CAN’T DO IT, I CAN’T BREAK UP WITH HIM, SO YOU DO IT.” A few minutes later, a dog was about to lick the side of my face when I felt arms lift me up and hug me, “We’re going to be okay.”

Man would have I rather believed him.

I’ll tell you what a relationship is like when you become a believer and the other person isn’t. It feels like being in prison during visitation hours. First, you think you’re the visitor, trying to get through to the other person despite the glass between you two. He sees you and maybe something different about you but he doesn’t really understand.

He has questions, you don’t have answers, but he’s just astounded every time he listens to you as you go on and on about this Jesus because you look so happy, so he just stops asking.

You’re there constantly trying to make contact. Trying to apply what you just read in the Bible in a subtle manner, secretly praying while you’re together (even laying hands when he’s not looking), putting on a worship song when it’s your turn to Spotify (yes, I did this). And even bringing him to church in HOPES the pastor would say SOMETHING that would affect him.

And no, no, no, no. No matter how hard I tried, he just wouldn’t get it.

And that’s when you realize: this whole time you thought you were the visitor, trying to miraculously somehow connect him to God, all this time, YOU were the prisoner.

I know, take a breath, that sounds harsh but it’s true. Especially if you both entered the relationship lost. You start noticing that he’s pulling you back and able to control your emotions. I’m not saying he doesn’t care, I mean he’s happy for you but he seriously thinks he doesn’t need salvation, you do. You’re the one who needed help, you’re the one who needed Jesus.

 

Truth bomb: You can’t save anyone. No matter how on fire you are for God, or even how long you’ve been walking in Christ…only God can save a man. And only God will. It’s just not your job. And the longer you stay in a relationship that is for lack of a more modern term, unequally yoked, sometimes you have to just let go and give that person to God, FULLY. No leftovers or crumbs.

But can I just say, that the second he walked out of the room…Jesus walked in. I remember clearly hearing Him whisper, “Do you see now how much I love you?” And that morning alone, by myself, the sun had finally come out. My Prince of Peace was standing right beside me as I continued to pray.

 

2 Corinthians 6 says it all. And again, it’s not to be mean, but hearts will be broken. Healing will come. And you always have to ask yourself, who’s more important, this person or Christ?

Now that I can safely say and only by God’s amazing grace, I have healed and am moving on, one thing is for sure: No man beats Jesus. In the end, whoever I even marry has to accept the fact that Jesus will always come first because He’ll always be the perfect man no matter my season ( I wrote Dating The Perfect Man two weeks after this break-up, just for your reference.)

My pastor said he knew it was going to happen. I asked him why. He said because I was falling in love with Jesus faster than I could even break up with my boyfriend.

And if I ever doubted that God answers prayers in the snap of a finger (like the very next night), I don’t doubt that now. Despite how tough the answer is or how much it really hurts, He’s got your back.

So for anyone reading this, please be encouraged that a break-up is not the end of the world. If anything, it’s the start of a new life. A new beginning, a new chapter. And even though your thoughts and dreams may drift to that person constantly, it’s always your chance to lift him or her up in prayer and know that God is moving in their life too. He loves them just like he loves you.

And you too, will one day, love again.

Author: julzsavard7

I'm 25. I play music. I love Jesus.

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