Almost three weeks ago now, I packed all my earthly possessions into a moving van and left.
When I stop to realize how much I left behind, it’s rather overwhelming.
I left my parents (now a 4 1/2 hour drive away, as opposed to a 1 1/2 hour drive away.)
I left my sister/roommate (who I’ve lived with for 24 of my 27 years.)
I left my house (the spacious House of Dreams.)
I left my church (where I had friendship, accountability, and ministry opportunity.)
I left my work (both in the sense of leaving the physical location/company and in the sense of leaving long-term care.)
I left my friends (the dear friends of all ages who had welcomed me into their lives when I moved to Columbus two years ago.)
When most people talk of “leaving and cleaving”, they mean it metaphorically.
I’m feeling the “leaving” literally.
And here, in this unfamiliar place where I know no one save one, I’m also feeling the “cleaving” pretty literally.
I don’t have my sister or my friends or my parents or my accountability here to talk to when I need to get something off of my chest. I have Daniel.
I don’t have people to hang out with, events to go to, activities to keep me busy. I have Daniel.
I don’t have my Bible Study girls to cry with, I don’t have K/Cathy to give me hugs, I don’t have children from church whose hair I can ruffle. I have Daniel.
Having left nearly everything that characterized my life in Columbus (and even before), I am left cleaving to Daniel.
He is the person I can turn to if I’m stressed, if I’m excited, if I’m bored, if I need something done, if I need a hug. He’s the only one here that I can be completely free around.
Except that I can’t be completely free even with him. Even as I’m experiencing part of the mystery spoken of in Genesis 2:24, there’s a part that is still missing.
“Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.”
~Genesis 2:24, KJV
I am not Daniel’s wife. I am not and cannot now be one flesh with him.
Even as I find myself clinging to Daniel practically (where do I go to…), intellectually (what do you think about…), emotionally (here’s what I’m feeling today…), socially (yes, I’ll go to small group with you), and even physically, I am acutely aware that our cleaving–our union–is incomplete.
Daniel is my fiancee, not my husband.
As much as I would like to cleave to him physically, that we would be one flesh, I cannot yet do that.
And so I must leave even Daniel.
Every night, I leave Daniel. Sometimes early, sometimes late, but every night, I leave. I go home to my room in the basement of a couple who lives nearby. Sometimes I arrive home with new emotions, new thoughts, new desires that I wish I could still share with Daniel. But I have left. I cannot go back until the next morning. I dress myself for bed and pull the covers over my head.
Having left Daniel, I have now left all.
Only One remains to Whom I can cleave.
So I lay in my bed and pour out my heart, my desire before the King of the Universe.
I lay in bed and pray for grace, grace to endure the 51 days that remain for us between “cleaving” and “one flesh”.
You capture the interesting in between stage between engagement and marriage quite well. I easily remember how difficult it was to begin thinking of Jason as my husband . . . and yet he wasn’t. It is a challenge.
That’s one of the hardest things about loving someone so much — to remember, even when that union is complete, and as much of a blessing as it is, that there is still only One we can fully cleave to, who can truly meet every need.
You express this so well, Bekah. 51 days? Wow. I know it feels like a lifetime now, but at the same time, your busy-ness will make it go by in a flash.
I’m excited for you!
This, to me, is the hardest part of the journey. Run it well, my friend! I will be praying for you both as you check off the days!
I remember those days and they were 24 years ago! They were so hard. But, worth it!
This reminds me SO MUCH of the beginning of my relationship with Jeff as his wife. Not that we had the living-in-such-close-proximity-before-marriage part (we didn’t…he was on the West Coast and I was on the East until the wedding), but we definitely had the leaving/cleaving aspect of it. I vividly remember after having driven across the country from Virginia to California with Jeff right after our wedding, we came up over the last set of hills before we got to San Diego, and the song “Butterfly Kisses” came on the radio (maybe you’re too young to remember that one?). :) I wondered to myself why I had ever thought it was a good idea to marry someone and move so far away from “home”…and I was sure San Diego would never feel like home! Looking back, I see that living so far away from my family and everything familiar to me was EXACTLY what I needed so that my bond with Jeff could be rock-solid, right from the start.
Thank you for sharing your heart during these precious days. Know that you are thought of and prayed for often!!