100 Other Lovers

I've been thinking about lovers lately. Not really lovers, like bowchickawowow lovers, but lovers like the relational analogy of Christ to the Church. We're to be the bride of Christ personally and corporately. For examples see here and here.
I listened to Jealous Kind by Jars of Clay tonight, and was thinking about how many lovers I've lined up. Not just the bowchickawowow lovers, but all those lovers that are idols, things that replace God in my life. I was thinking about all those things that I will try to turn to before I turn to God, all those things I try to manipulate and dance around to get the results I think are best instead of just submitting to God and being obedient.
I fight and fight, wondering time and time again why I'm running in place, drowning in confusion and hopelessness.

i built another temple to a stranger
i gave away my heart to the rushing wind
i set my course to run right into danger
i sought the company of fools instead of friends

I wonder why I can't hear God clearly, and then realize that my conversations with him are nonexistent. I wonder why I can't see him moving, until I realize that my eyes are tightly shut. I give piece after piece of my heart away, until I've lost track of where all the pieces have gone.

tryin' to jump away from rock that keeps on spreading
for solace in the shift of the sinking sand
i'd rather feel the pain all too familiar
than be broken by a lover i don't understand
'cause i don't understand

I try to avoid loneliness by being busy, not seeing the pattern that my almost manic need to be busy and running running running is an indication that I really need to be alone. How many times do I need to be smacked across the face with the realization that the only thing I seem to be running from is God himself.
Because I can exist within the pain of all these other lovers worlds. I can grasp and understand that people leave, that people (like me) are flawed and damaged which translates to a fractured and not ideal relationship. I can see that material possessions will disintegrate and fall away and that TV programs are not real life.
Yet, these are the things I pursue. Because they are easier than allowing myself to be broken by the Lover I was born to be in relationship with. Because I don't understand that Lover. I don't understand his jealousy, I don't understand his pure and righteous nature. I don't understand the grandness, perfection, and holiness that is contained within Him. It's easier to just pursue the half-lovers. Those people and things that are just available and alluring enough to seduce me away from my true Lover.

one hundred other lovers, more, one hundred other altars
if i should slow my pace and finally subject me to grace
and love that shames the wise
betrays the hearts deceit and lies
and breaks the back of foolish pride

It is breaking me. This call I'm hearing and feeling. This call that's speaking to me in a full force scream at this point. This call that's beating me about the head and face asking me why. Why are you chasing these other lovers? Why are you throwing yourself after things that are empty and useless? Why are you building your future in the sand instead of on the Rock? It started this year, in slowing my pace. In intentionally dialing it back and being still. In spurts and false starts I've become still, or at least more still than before. The stillness is causing the other lovers and alters to corrode and show what is under their shiny surfaces. I'm left naked, exposed, broken of my foolish pride. I'm starting to understand more the language of fear and trembling that I read about. Because I am afraid and I am trembling. But not of a mean Lover, I'm not afraid because He is so terrible and spiteful. But because He is so big. So perfect. So awesome. I'm afraid and trembling because I am in awe that such a Lover would love me so.