At twelve years old, I had never been away from my parents for longer than a day or two. When they dropped me off for a week of church camp, I knew I was playing in the big leagues. At church camp, you learn Bible stories, sing songs, and play a lot of games. My church camp was just outside of Yellowstone Park. Mountains surrounded us, icy streams flowed around camp, and the guys stayed in an old renovated mule barn. I thought this place must be the Garden of Eden.As the guys walked down to the campfire for orientation, I noticed something else, and this was greater than the streams, basketball court, and mule barn. We were not alone. This camp had women. They may have been in middle school, but with my parents gone, I knew this was as close as I’d been to being “a real man.” If this was the Garden of Eden, I knew I would meet my Eve here. The funny thing is that we were all middle schoolers. Which meant we had acne, our voices cracked, and our bodies were changing far more rapidly than our minds. I remember meeting Sarah, and I knew we were meant to be. We sat by each other at a few campfire devotionals. I thought this was for real. Once I got home from camp, I learned she liked my friend, John. I was crushed. This whole time, I knew if Sarah liked me, everything would be alright. I wanted Sarah to like me, but even more than that, to complete me. A decade has passed since then, and I love the story I’m living. I’ve met more women, and have found none of them completed me. What I am learning is completion isn’t the purpose of meeting Eve. Love is. As long as I’m looking for her to complete me, I’ll focus on who she isn’t and what she doesn’t do, because she can’t complete me. When I let her be someone I love, I can appreciate her just for who she is.
Have you tried to find someone to complete you? How did that work?