Forgive Me, My First Love

    “Why have you been running?” 

“Eleanor, why have you been rejecting my love? I poured it into you the other day and you felt it, yet you chose to close your heart to me” 

“Can’t you see that I love you?” 

“Can’t you see that I want the best for you?” 

“Eleanor, why are you living in the past? Why are you blaming me for things I wasn’t responsible for?” 

“Why have you chosen to question my love?” 

“Eleanor, I hurt”. 

“Why are you hurting me?” 

“I love you… I love you so much” 

“I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted to play with your heart” 

“That’s not me, that’s not who I am” 

“I don’t enjoy watching you suffer or watching you cry” 

“Why are you holding this against me?” 

“If only you knew how I hurt that you feel this way” 

“Please come back to me. Please” 

“I love you”.

But even with all that, I didn’t have the right composure to accept His love.

He was right, I was living in the past.

I mean, why won’t I?

“I thought you said you would be there for me?”

“Why did you let all these things happen? You can’t say you love someone, yet you watch them suffer before your very eyes”

“That’s not love, God. It isn’t”. 

“Don’t you see how hard I tried? Can’t you see how I tried to make you happy? I tried to please you” 

“Yet you repay me with hurt” 

“You give me the opposite of what I ask you for” 

“That’s not love. I can’t forgive you”.

Deciding not to listen again, I quickly left His presence and proceeded to go to sleep.

Then a couple days later, I proceeded to do what I do best whenever I’m angry or sad or depressed–I call a friend.

And the best person to talk to at that moment just happened to be Chinedu.

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“Eleanor, I think you need more healing”. He said.

“All this anger you’re carrying is coming from grief. You haven’t really healed yet, and you’re holding it against God”

“You need to heal from your past. You haven’t really let go, because you keep bringing it up.”

Cutting him halfway through before he could finish his advice, I responded.

“No, I’m fine”.

I’ve gone through healing already and I think I’m in a good place now. I just need to understand things with Him. I just need an explanation for why He keeps doing this to me.” 

But no matter how much I tried to convince Chinedu that I was fine, He kept saying the same thing–Healing.

I wasn’t buying it.

I didn’t think I needed any healing.

I considered myself to be a strong independent woman who had been through some of the worst storms in life and still persisted through.

Therefore healing wasn’t necessary.

But apparently, he didn’t see it that way.

And so did Father.

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For the past few weeks, I’ve been living in a coping mechanism. Each time something hurtful happened, I would force myself not to cry or be bothered by it.

I would run to friends, family, social media or anything that could distract me from what I was feeling. Because I was too scared to address my pain.

I was afraid to be vulnerable. To be seen. To be loved.

I even subconsciously believed the lie that crying meant weakness.

“I don’t want to be weak” I would say to myself. 

And so I kept running.

From Him, His presence, my feelings, love, everything that could connect me to my emotions.

Because I believed that running meant strength. That if I continued to run away from my grief, that it would automatically go away.

But I was wrong.

The pain began to bear fruits of bitterness, anger, depression, isolation, resentment, and frustration.

And after seeing that I couldn’t run any longer, because His love wouldn’t let me, I broke down one morning and wept.

With tears dripping from my eyes, I called upon Him and asked for help.

And He responded.

“Set up an appointment and this time, you need to take it seriously.” He said.

“An appointment? with the Christian counselor? Hell No!” I declined.

“Lord, I don’t need someone to talk to about my problems. I’m fine. I just want what I want and apparently, you aren’t giving it to me” 

Still, He persisted ..“Set up the appointment”.

Choosing not to be disobedient, I searched up her website and booked a 30-minute appointment for that afternoon.

I didn’t think anything valuable was going to come from it, but I chose to still give it a shot.

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“Eleanor, what is the matter?”. She asked.

“What brings you here today?”

I wanted to prove to her that I was strong. That inner healing wasn’t necessary for me. That somehow I had figured out life by putting walls around my heart.

And so I responded.

“I’m okay–I just need to understand why certain things happened….”.

She looked at me with a smile on her face. Like she could see into my lies and pain.

“You’re angry at God.” She interrupted.

“That’s why you are here today”.

Seeing that Holy Spirit had already revealed my heart to her, I decided to open up.

And the moment I did, His presence and healing came flooding in.

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I eventually left the session feeling way better than I came. Choosing to let go of the past and forgive Him again.

But not only that, I left knowing my purpose– Knowing that He wanted me to continue writing and telling the world about the unconditional love I carry. The same love that He poured into my heart the first time I encountered Him alone in my tiny apartment.

He knew I was the best person to speak about it. Because I had tasted it, felt it, lived it.

I knew too much to just keep it to myself and not tell the world.

“I’m going to start writing again”. I thought.

“But the attacks, Lord. There are too many warfares with this stuff. I can’t keep living in warfare every day”.

Hoping He will encourage me to give up and move on, He instead decided to break off my hesitancy.

“You were under so many attacks Eleanor because you didn’t know how to war as a daughter”. He responded.

“You kept fighting from fear and performance. You believed I wasn’t going to protect you. Satan convinced you that because all these bad things happened to you, I won’t help you in warfare. But that’s not the truth. It’s not you who fights Eleanor. I am the one fighting your battles”.

Those words were really comforting. But still, I was reluctant to step out. I already had other things going for myself that I didn’t feel it necessary to continue.

I kept telling myself that He already had too many servants preaching the gospel and carrying His love. Why did He need me?

Regardless, I knew it wasn’t about me, but about His wounded lost sheep.

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The next few days after the counseling session came with some warfares. I faced battles of confusion in my mind and spiritual battles with the enemy.

But I noticed that this time around, the battle was different.

Father had raised my authority.

I wasn’t seeing the demons and running in fear anymore. I was seeing them and tormenting them, remaining persistent while addressing them.

And after a while of doing so, my desire for His love came back again.

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“Eleanor, you didn’t fall in love with what I could do for you, you fell in love with me. Remember the first time I walked into your room and woke you up? How your face lit up because of the love you felt?”

“Remember how you used to lock yourself up in your apartment and we would talk for hours while you lick your vanilla icecream”

“Remember how you would get in your car at midnight and I’d open your eyes to see angels flying?”

“Remember how you used to joke and dance around your apartment like you were on a stage?”

“Remember how all you wanted was my love? How you were so quick to turn men down because you were so in love with me”

“Oh and let’s not forget how you would write in your journal and tell me about my special seat at your wedding”

“Eleanor you fell in love with me. You didn’t fall in love with what I could do for you. So why do you always doubt our love when the trials of life hit you?”.

After He finished speaking, I started weeping and repenting. I told Him how sorry I was for getting angry and harboring pride.

Then I proceeded to look up at my wall, and lo and behold, a bold statement was staring right at me like a confirmation.


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