It was a brisk winter afternoon and I was unexpectedly called to meet for coffee with a guy who, for one reason or another, had been in and out of my life for the last five years. Our story has been a confusing one: best defined by an exhausting game of red light, green light.
Every time I found myself at the precipice of a committed relationship with him, I would have a strong restraint in my heart, like a glaring sign that read, “Do not enter.” But here he was, yet again, reappearing in my life, and I had no idea what to make of it.
In previous relationships, and their respective unravellings, there had been somewhat of a common theme building in my life: the all-too-familiar-feeling that I just wasn’t enough. I’m sure we can all relate to that in some way—not feeling pretty enough, skinny enough, fun enough and so on.
This time, however, the feeling was different. As I sat there awkwardly sipping my coffee, I had a certain feeling that sort of pulled the rug from underneath me and stung deep to me core—perhaps you know this feeling too.
It’s the feeling that you are actually too much.
The thing is, what we value has a way of molding us into the people we are. These values determine how we invest our time and energy. They shape our character.
The people who surround us will all make a decision about whether they like the characters we are becoming or not. And that all depends on their values. So, the very characteristics that I cherish—that I think make me a good or godly person—may be the very characteristics that others find challenging.
Clearly, none of us are perfect, but those positive characteristics that have resulted from esteeming godly things in our lives can, to our shock and dismay, end up being despised by a person that we thought might be the “right” person for us.
So, that chilly afternoon I was reminded of those conversations and experiences with this person that me feel like I was just too much … for them. For instance, my desire to live honorably had become a point of conflict in the past. I thought of myself as just trying live with integrity, which was insulting to them.
I sat there and remembered the times I would reflect after an argument, asking myself:
“Can’t you just be less of this and less of that, can’t you just dumb down that part of who you are and your convictions to make this easier?”
But when did we ever win in the end when we lowered our standards and dumbed down who we are to get what we think we want?
I’m more convinced than ever that the right person will never ask you to diminish yourself so that they can be comfortable being with you. They won’t shame you for your convictions. They won’t put down what you value. They won’t make you feel like you being you is too much.
Too often we make compromises because we believe the lie that there is something wrong with us. But when those areas that seem to be “too much” are a result of trying to live closely with God, and have cost you something, then it is never something worth compromising.
God desires to give us a wife or husband who we don’t have to lower ourselves for, who will cherish and value the sacrifices we’ve made to be the people we are. They will be thankful that we chose to press in and live close to God’s heart.
My personal admonition to myself and to you is, wait. Wait for the type of person who esteems you and all you are.
Love & Money content is created in partnership with brightpeak Financial