2018 was a year of leaping growth and life-altering change. Early in the year, I sought out personal prayer ministry for the first time in my life. Around February, I had made great strides in moving on from my first relationship, but I felt stuck. There was some kind of snag in my growth and healing, such that I felt like I couldn’t fully emotionally move forward.
I remember sharing with a close friend about this struggle. She suggested that I might have some unbroken “soul ties” with my ex-boyfriend.
Soul ties?
I’d never heard of those before.
In short, this conversation was the catalyst for my seeking personal prayer ministry. I met with an older, wiser, godly woman who walked me through a prayerful process of forgiveness, surrendering my past relationship, and breaking off any unhealthy connections of the soul and spirit that had been formed with my previous boyfriend. That evening of prayer was a turning point in my journey. The “snag”, the feeling of running up against a wall in my healing journey, was removed. My heart was able to mend more completely after that than it had before.
By late spring/early summer, I was beginning to enjoy being single again. I was trying not to entertain situations with guys that could potentially be a distraction, a fling, or just a selfish opportunity to feel affirmed and desired.
But then, there was Scott Lasuik. Unassuming, relaxed, friendly, his presence gradually became more prominent in my consciousness. Being a volunteer in his area of ministry frequently threw us into the same circles at church, and we had a number of mutual friends. Over a period of a few months, I got acquainted with this fun-loving, musically talented worship leader, who just so happened to be single.
One weekend — I believe it was a Sunday afternoon — I joined a group of young adults from church at a local park for an afternoon BBQ. Scott was also among this group. Being vehicle-less at the time, I had hitched a ride with a couple of friends. When the group began to disband, my need for a ride was met by an offer from Scott to take me home. On our way to the house where I was renting a basement suite at the time, we decided to stop and get ice cream. Conveniently, my landlords weren’t home that day, so we took advantage of the backyard and sat on the deck. We ate ice cream and discussed a recent worship song that was getting some controversial attention in Christian circles. I enjoyed the fact that I could discuss music and theology with this guy.
Sometime later, we planned to hang out on a Sunday after church. (Isn’t this the most stereotypical church-y couple story you’ve ever heard?) On July 21st, the day before our planned date (though we didn’t call it that at the time), I wrote the following:
And as I look ahead to tomorrow, I am curious and excited. I’m hanging out with Scott tomorrow afternoon, and I have no idea what the outcome of that will be[…] But God weaves threads into my life, and He knows that He will pull and push and pin those threads in particular ways to accomplish His purposes. And I don’t know how hanging out with Scott fits into that… I may discover that I really enjoy spending time with him, or that I don’t. And there is his side of the equation to be figured as well. But I am hoping, trusting, anticipating that somehow our Sunday hang-out and the almost non-stop texting of the past week will somehow fit into the thread God is weaving in my life.
The following afternoon, we enjoyed a low-key lunch together and went out for a mediocre dessert. I remember fretting over whether or not I would enjoy spending an afternoon with Scott, and concluding that I would suggest we go see a movie. That way, if it turned out to be awful or very awkward, at least we could do something that didn’t require us to carry a conversation.
It turns out (you guessed it) that it wasn’t a horrible afternoon — though there were a couple of awkward pause moments in our conversations — but we decided to go see The Incredibles 2 anyway. When Scott dropped me off at home later that day, he said: “We should do this again sometime.”
“I would like that,” I replied.
songs of stippled stardust 