All Roads Lead to Rome.. man Catholic Churches

We lost momentum right away.

I was traveling with family in Japan, halfway across the world, while R was in the US. Time zones laughed at us.

Texts trickled in, a “how is Japan” here, a “have a blessed day” there. Polite. Safe. Definitely no spark, no real connection.

I mentioned that I make cringey Catholic videos. He asked for them. I hesitated. I prayed about it, prayed again, then thoughtfully picked out the cringiest ones. If this were someone I might be discerning with, why hide? So I sent them. Heart open.

He said he had time at 9am that day to watch them. Days passed. No comment on the videos, while other polite texts trickled in.

That silence hit different. Not because I needed praise, but just because he didn’t lean in. And honestly? If you don’t like my unhinged, God-obsessed, dweeby self, you’re not for me. I’m a lot. A lot of fun, love, (definitely) weird. Not everyone’s cup of tea. And that’s fine.

My spark died quietly, like a candle someone forgot to blow out. Perhaps, more like a candle that someone forgot they even lit. I stopped getting excited when my phone lit up.

We scheduled a Zoom date anyway. It felt like we were just going through the motions. Pleasant. Polite. Dry. I can usually talk to anyone for ages, but this time, the gaps felt wrong. Unnatural. He stayed reserved. I stayed guarded. I think the Lord already granted us the clarity, but we weren’t ready to accept it. Maybe that was the very human, broken part of me. That old ache whispering: “Try harder. Maybe it’ll work.”

We talked about faith, humility, and Lent. But not personal. No real “tell me more.” It lacked the kind of warmth two people who’d been talking for a month should have. No trying to get to know each other beyond the godly surface.

An undercurrent of unease followed me after the call. Through prayers, I drafted a message about how we might be misaligned. I was ready to send it.

Then my God-sis stepped in. “He’s not the one,” she said. “But vulnerability means risking rejection and not taking control. Patience means waiting. Growth only happens when you don’t rush. “

So I waited.

So I lay in bed, heart pounding and pounding like I just sprinted for a mile. My heart beat so violently it almost felt like it was ready to jump out of my chest. What was happening? Why was my body reacting in such a physical, almost violent way? It wasn’t because I was attached to this wonderful gentleman; if anything, I was quite detached. But it was because I was trusting that the Lord would remove R from my life if we weren’t meant to be, instead of doing it myself.

That was so difficult. I have never let myself wait like that, to sit in that level of discomfort. I’m good at speaking up, not at sitting still. I trusted, offering it all up to the Lord. “Thy will be done.”

The next morning, the Lord rewarded me. I woke up to a polite text about R not wanting to continue discerning a romantic relationship. I called my God sister right away with a huge smile on my face.

And that was so beautiful. I’ve learned so much. It’s in the silences, the gaps, the discomfort that the Lord really shows us through quiet, steadfast proof. Almost whispering to us, “My child. You can wait, you can let go. You’re safe, I got you.”

Surrender isn’t weakness. It’s a muscle. And I’m getting stronger.

I’m praying for your “surrender muscles”, too!

Thanks for reading. God bless!