Roses in the Desert: Courted, Chosen, & Cherished Shembull

My high school DJ ended every dance by playing Chicago’s “Color My World.” I prayed someone would choose me to turn in slow circles under the mirror ball. Maybe he’d be my future husband. Years later I walked down the aisle in a Chantilly lace bridal gown to a man I’d known since middle school and loved since I was seventeen. Through tears he whispered, “You’re so beautiful,” but I cried when our children were one and four and he walked away. 

Raising my daughter and son, my greatest loves, was the biggest blessing of my life. Bonus was teaching at the Christian school they attended K-12. Still, sometimes as a single mom, I felt lonely and sad. Being a Christian didn’t give me immunity to the stages of grief over the loss of a marriage or absence of a partner. Sometimes I felt angry at God, myself, and others...which led to guilt...then more depression. I knew God was supposed to be enough, but didn’t always feel He was. A spiritual being in a human vessel, I longed for someone other than Frank Sinatra to cook with me; someone to play Santa and Tooth Fairy with me; someone to show my children what a healthy marriage looks like; someone to tell my daughter daily she’s smart and beautiful and to laugh with my son while they built his dream treehouse. And I wanted someone who fiercely loved God, my children, me, to hold me. 

More years later, while teaching English one summer in Italy, a friend said I was the kind of woman born for a grande amore. We all are. Whoever said a cynic is a disillusioned idealist--especially when it comes to love-- is probably right. Regardless of our love language, enneagram number, or attachment style, we’re made in God’s image, and He is love. Whether married, divorced, or single, deep down we all want to be seen, heard, known, cherished. We long to belong. 

God calls us to a love story of adventure; restful, quiet moments; and beauty breaks for the soul. Our Maker plants desires in our heart so He can fulfill them. God whispered to me that summer in Italy that when my children left the nest, I’d fly away, too. I did. I landed in Morocco. Sight unseen.  There my Creator fulfilled my wildest, unspoken dreams. He made me feel like a girl again. He designed a mosaic from shards of my life. He gave me roses in the desert; clothed me in confidence, strength, and dignity; colored my world. 

He knows your deepest hurts and longings. He speaks your love language when you get still and listen. He customizes journeys to bring you home to Himself and the woman you were created to be.