When Love Becomes An Altar

I finished reading Passion and Purity by Elisabeth Elliot on the 14th of February, 2007. I still remember jotting down some of the insights in an old journal. It’s been years since I turned its final page but the truth I encountered in that book never faded in time because what I learned in those pages didn't only touch my mind, but also shaped my view of love. And though it's been a while, I've come to realized that this quiet corner of the internet can also be a safe space where I mark my heart. So today, I want to pour out a part of that journey here, and I’m still in awe! I never imagined that someone else could deeply understand the same kind of emotional and spiritual struggles I faced. Elisabeth and Jim's story made me realize I’m not alone in wrestling with longing, impatience, and the ache of waiting.

What inspired me most was discovering the kind of love they shared - a love fully surrendered to God. It wasn’t driven by impulse or emotion alone, but rooted in obedience, patience, and deep trust in God’s plan. The way they brought their relationship under God’s authority, even when it meant pain and prolonged separation, was both humbling and encouraging.

Their story reminded me that love isn’t just about finding the right person, it’s about becoming the right person in God’s eyes. And sometimes, that journey involves long waiting, growing, and trusting even when it’s hard.

I would like to begin this reflection based on my personal understanding and experience as I read through each chapter of the book. One of the first and most important lessons I learned was to acknowledge the One who allowed me to be in this situation in the first place. As Elisabeth wrote, “It is ours to thank Him for and ours to offer back to Him.” That phrase always brought tears in my eyes. 

I completely agree with her though it wasn’t always easy to accept. From my perspective, if God gave me this person, then I assumed he was mine to keep. But now I realize that even the most precious blessings must still be held with open hands. It’s one thing to say, “Lord, I trust You,” but it’s another to truly mean it—to surrender not just the outcome, but even my right to understand, to hold on, or to fight for something I deeply care about.

There were many moments when I was tempted to take control, driven by anxiety, fear, and the overwhelming thoughts of possibly losing someone I love. In those moments, I wasn’t trusting God, I was trying to replace His timing with mine, His ways with my own.

But trust means surrendering, even when it hurts, even when we don’t see the full picture. I’m learning that real faith isn’t passive; it’s an active choice to let go and believe that God’s plans are far greater than mine, even when they don’t look the way I expected.

When I say, “I trust You," I’m not just speaking words, I’m giving God permission to take full control of the story, down to the smallest details. I’m choosing to believe that everything He allows, everything He withholds, and everything He orchestrates will ultimately bring out the best in me, even if the results aren’t what I hoped for.

Elisabeth captured this so well when she felt worried if Jim would still respond to her letter, "Letting it rest with Him was the discipline for the day, and it was enough, and this was the most important lesson in my life." That, too, hit me hard.

Because resting in Him doesn’t mean doing nothing, it means practicing a daily discipline of surrender. It means silencing the urge to manipulate, to worry, or to force outcomes, and instead learning to wait. Especially for ladies, we are made to be receptors, or responders, while men are designed to be the initiators. "It was not arbitrarily that God called Himself Israel's Bridegroom and Israel His Bride. He woos us, calls us, wins us, gives us His name, loves us..." I greatly appreciate how Elisabeth emphasized these symbols. It is important because it shows the relationship between Christ and the Church, a visual echo of the sacred order, woven to the divine design. It means trusting His love is not only good, but also wise, and that He sees far beyond what I can.

Moving forward, I want to share one of my most favorite chapters in the book, with a title: "God gives us the material for sacrifice." That phrase alone felt like a gentle but firm tug at my heart.  The best illustration is found in Genesis 22:6, "Abraham made Isaac carry the wood for sacrifice..." We all know the story: Abraham took a hundred year when Isaac was born, a son that brought him immeasurable joy. And yet, God asked for him back. Not because He delights in taking away, but because obedience is a matter of love and trust.

This chapter led me to ask a deeply personal question: Who is the Isaac in my life? Who is that person I prayed for, was granted by God, and am now being asked to place on the altar? I’ve been blessed with a loving home, a life-giving ministry, and so many things that reflect God's goodness. But when I thought about who I’m being called to offer back to Him that point in time- my spirit breathe peace. With so much ache in my heart - t'was nothing but my first love. 

Hence, was it just right that I had to place him on the altar of surrender? Like Abraham, I carefully laid my Isaac in the palm of His hands. No words could fully described what I went through at that moment. All I could do was bury that pure love within the box of letters I have written during our years of separation, thinking just like Isaac, love might one day rise again... give a tight embrace to his beloved father, alive and unharmed. 

Sacrifice always tests our obedience. At first, God starts with the small things, simple choices, quiet moments of surrender. But when we’re faithful in those, He invites us deeper. Over time, we find ourselves learning to fully submit to His will. And honestly, that’s the safest place to be.

Everything God allows in our lives is for our good. Obedience isn’t always easy, but it’s one of the clearest ways we show our love for Jesus. I once read online, “Never regret the things you did out of love.” I hope that the intense love I have for God was also reflected in the form of love I long to show at the altar. 

Letting go of him was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It feels like a loss. But I’ve come to see it not as losing something, but as giving something precious back to God in trust and love. It’s an act of obedience that I believe will one day bear fruit for His kingdom!

My goal now is to obey God, no matter the cost. It’s not easy, but the peace that comes with surrender is worth it.