Why Meeting Them Wasn’t An Accident

I’ve always believed in fate. Fate, in the sense that God destines people to meet one another, plans for situations to happen as they do, and that our decisions, though our own and up to our free will, fall according to how they were meant to. Happen according to His plan.

I believe that what is supposed to be, simply is.

And that everything we encounter and everyone we meet, crosses our paths for a reason.

This can be to teach, to challenge our faith, to strengthen. It can be to help us value our lives or our friendships, or learn to remove ourselves from those who aren’t good for us. It can show us the brokenness of the world, or the beauty.

These situations we encounter, these people that we open our lives to—they are lessons, they are blessings.

And so when I think of the two of us, think of our paths crossed at just the right moment, I think of how strange and wonderful it is that we fell in love. That God created the two of us, so flawed and complex, and sewed the strings of our lives together at that specific time.

God saw something in us that we didn’t see in ourselves. That our vulnerabilities, our fearful souls, our tender hearts would find homes in one another.

We made our own decisions—where we would go to college, what we would wear on that particular Thursday night, the words we would say when we exchanged smiles across a crowded table—and this was all as He intended.

He watched as our decisions fell according to what He’d known all along—that our eyes would lock, that our laughter would spark, that despite the odds and the shattered way the world loves, we would find something in each other that was worth pursuing.

He knew that we would love each other. And He knew that loving each other would ignite us both.

He saw the months of bliss, the gentle way we kissed, the way we yelled with a fiery passion, and the way we felt things so deeply, even catastrophically. Even to the point of our destruction.

He saw what we would become before we did.
And He continues to see what we can’t—where we will go.

When I think of us, I think of how we stumbled into each other’s lives as if by chance. But I know it wasn’t chance. We found one another because this was meant to happen. I was meant to fall for you, and you for me. We were meant to be whatever we were, whatever we are.

But that’s when I know I need to turn to God once again.

Because I don’t know.

I don’t know if we’ve reached the end. If we’ve become one another’s blessings, lessons, love that we will carry forever. I don’t know if this is what I was meant to understand—that people don’t always stay, that they can’t because their lives have to go in different directions, opposite directions.

I don’t know if I’m supposed to walk away and be thankful for what that was, or believe that love is something that never fades, even after months and years.

I cannot answer these questions. So whatever we will become, I leave it to God.

I give Him my worries and doubts, my frustrations and insecurities. I give Him the parts of myself that are broken and fearful. I give Him all the love that I poured into us, and even more.

I leave us to Him. I put our futures in His hands.

Whatever we will become, however the changes and circumstances of our lives will play out, I trust in God to bring me to where I’m meant to be. Bring us to where we’re meant to be, together or separate.

I’ve always believed in fate. It was by fate, by His plan that we found each other.
And it will be by this fate, this plan if we discover one another again.