On Chemistry

And I'm not talking about the cringe-worthy subject in high school whose only redeeming quality was the game I made up in which I would tally the number of times my teacher said "um" in a given lecture. (Dear Mom and Dad: that's what you get when you send your kid to acting camp 5 summers in a row)

Too much chemistry caused me to stay in an unhealthy relationship for (far) too long.

Too little chemistry caused me to push boundaries in an unhealthy way in an attempt to find it.

Even though it often begins with first appearances, somehow it isn't necessarily superficial. 

It peaks with proximity and disappears with distance.

It's intangible, immeasurable, unexplainable, and essential.

It can't be conjured, and yet I've recently learned it can be coy. (Sometimes you have to give it a little time to develop.)

This elusive relationship enigma has me completely baffled. I can't figure it out.

And so, I just keep reminding myself of this verse and trusting that even if I don't understand the strange, secret magnetism of my heart towards certain character traits (and subsequent repelling from others), He does. 


Vanessa's Dad said…
Chemistry seems like a matter of taste. It's not a complete mystery, but you never completely figure it out, and it cannot be explained will. I used to love brown beans from a can... as in franks and beans... as a kid. Loved the beans... hot or cold. Then, I went thru a phase when I could not stand them... tasted awful. Eventually, I started liking them again. Same beans. Same me. Different taste.

It's healthy to get analytical about "must haves" and "can't stands" in a relationship. It's healthy to understand that relationships are also whimsical and magical like snow in the Willamette Valley. They weatherman can study and predict, but surprises abound. And, wishes does not make it snow.