There are times when I grapple with the thought of moving forward and dating because someone once pointed out to me that I had never truly been courted. I was also told that I self-sabotage. I went from my parents’ house into the life of a husband who did not truly Love me. And yet, in all honesty, I must also admit that if true Love had come near me then, I might have pushed it away, as I once pushed away Jesus in my younger years. Love had become too painful. Distance felt safer. To remain on the other side of Love felt like protection, even if it also meant remaining untouched by the tenderness my soul longed for. I feel sadness and a longing for connection on common ground on both ends, but fear hinders our steps.
But perhaps healing begins when the heart can finally say this without shame. Maybe it begins when we let the Lord show us that surviving without Love is not the same as living in the safety of real Love. The God who sees what was missing, and who also sees how fear taught us to hide, is gentle enough to heal both.
A few truths to sit with:
Real courtship is not pressure. It is patient, honoring attention.
Fear of Love does not mean you are incapable of Love. It often means Love came wrapped in pain before.
Healing does not require pretending you are unafraid. It begins by explaining why Love felt unsafe.
The Lord can teach your heart the difference between danger and tenderness.
Sacred Pause
Sit quietly with the Lord for a moment.
What feels harder to grieve:
that you were not truly courted,
Or that part of your heart may not have known how to receive it if you had been?
Do not force an answer.
Let the Lord sit with you there.
A quiet prayer of repentance and renewal
Lord Jesus,
Forgive me for the ways pain taught me to hide from Love. Forgive me for pushing away what was tender because my heart had learned to expect harm. And heal the grief of what I did not receive—the care, honor, patience, and true courtship my soul needed.
Teach me the difference between Love and danger.
Teach me how to receive what is clean without fearing it.
Heal the places where survival became my way of life.
And where I have stayed on the other side of Love to protect myself, meet me there with gentleness.
I do not want to force what You have not prepared, but I do not want fear to rule what You are healing. Let Your Love become safe in me again. Let truth and tenderness meet, and let my heart learn, slowly and honestly, how to remain where Love is real.
In Jesus’ Name, amen.
Sometimes the first step toward Love is not reaching for another person, but letting the Lord heal the part of us that learned distance was safer than tenderness.
When Fear Stands Between Hearts
I feel sadness and a longing for connection when I read comments about relationships and Love in the singles group I am part of. So many seem to long for the same thing—a common ground, a place of mutual understanding, tenderness, and shared desire for what is true. Yet fear seems to hinder the steps of both men and women.
And I understand that fear.
I, too, have known the fear of exploitation and manipulation. I know what it is to long for something real, while also feeling the caution of a heart that has learned how easily Love can be imitated. There is a sorrow in seeing how many people want connection yet stand guarded at its edges, unsure whether what awaits them is tenderness or harm.
Perhaps this is one of the quiet griefs of our time: not that love is no longer desired, but that fear so often stands between hearts that might otherwise meet on holy ground.
Still, longing is not the enemy. Longing can be honest. Longing can bear witness that the heart has not died. The deeper question is whether fear will become a prison, or whether the Lord will slowly teach the soul the difference between danger and discernment, between self-protection and holy wisdom.
For it may be that both men and women are standing at the threshold, each hoping the other is safe enough to trust, while both are carrying wounds from what once called itself love and was not.
So I bring my sadness to the Lord. I bring Him the ache for connection, the caution, the longing, and the fear. For He alone knows how to heal the heart without making it foolish, and how to keep it tender without leaving it unguarded.
Sacred Pause
Sit quietly for a moment.
What part of your sadness is grief?
What part of it is longing?
What part of it is fear still asking to be healed?
Let the Lord meet each part gently.
A prayer of repentance and renewal
Lord Jesus,
Forgive me for the ways fear has ruled places that longing only wanted to keep alive. Forgive me for every false agreement I made with distrust, hopelessness, or the belief that connection must always come at the price of safety. Heal the wounds exploitation and manipulation left behind in me.
Teach me holy discernment without hardness.
Teach me tenderness without naïveté.
Teach me how to honor the longing for connection without letting fear take the lead.
And for all the men and women standing at the edge of Love, longing for common ground while carrying hidden fears, have mercy. Heal what has been exploited. Expose what is false. Strengthen what is honest. And lead hearts that are seeking You into truth, safety, and peace.
In Jesus’ Name, amen.
Sometimes the sadness we feel around Love is not because the heart has failed, but because it still remembers what it was made for.