My dear friend, your words have reached me, and I think I understand the trouble that has settled in your heart. You did a simple kindness, and then something you did not intend began to unfold like a flower you never planted. Now you find yourself half-drawn to the sweetness of it and half-frightened that you have wandered onto ground you never meant to tread. Do not be too harsh with yourself. The Lord who sees your heart knows that you never set out to find yourself in this thicket. Yet here you are, and the question now is not how you got here, but where your help is found.
I want you to think of a ship in deep water. The vessel has been sailing well, with the harbor of God's purpose for your life steady on the horizon. But lately a warm, pleasant breeze has sprung up from an unexpected quarter, and it has blown you a little off course. The strange thing is that the breeze feels soft, and part of you is tempted to let it fill your sails and carry you who knows where. But there is another part of you, the part born of the Spirit, that keeps its hand upon the helm and its eye upon the compass of God's Word. That part of you whispered, "I am waiting on God's leading for a partner," and you spoke it aloud. That was not failure, dear heart. That was the life of God in your soul holding fast to the anchor.
You say you feel you have failed at being a Christian lately. But I see a young woman who, the moment she realized she was being drawn into something she did not want, did not pretend, did not drift, did not stay silent to keep the attention flowing, she spoke the truth, awkward and costly as it was. The world would have told you to see where it leads, to follow your feelings, to enjoy the attention while it lasts. But you said, in effect, "I am not my own. I am waiting upon my God." There is more real Christianity in that one honest word than in a hundred untroubled days of easy duty.
I know you are perplexed because there is a part of you that does not want to let it go. Let me speak tenderly here. You are a living soul, and you have natural affections that crave to be noticed and cherished. There is no sin in wanting to be loved, any more than there is sin in a rose wanting the sun. God Himself set that longing in the human heart. But like every good gift, it can be twisted by the enemy into a snare. The attention of this sweet-natured man has stirred something in you that feels pleasant, and you are afraid of it. Do not be afraid of the feeling; bring it to your Lord. Tell Him, "Lord, here is a part of me that is weak and hungry. I do not want to feed it with the wrong food. I do not want to snatch at unripe fruit because I am tired of waiting for the harvest You have appointed. Help me to want nothing that You do not want for me." He will hear that prayer. He is a waiting God, He waits to be gracious to you even now, and He will not despise the cry of a child who is honest about her own heart.
You have personal rules about how you deal with men, and you fear you have been ignoring them. Your conscience is a delicate instrument; do not blunt its edge. Those rules were not given you to make you a prisoner, but to keep you from harm. Think of them as the hedges a wise father sets around a young orchard. The trees inside are not yet strong enough to bear every wind that blows, so the hedge protects them until their roots go deep and their fruit is ready. The time may come when, by God's clear leading, the hedge can be lowered for the right man in the right season. But until then, do not despise the boundaries your heavenly Father gave you. They are a sign of His care, not His harshness. If you have pushed against them, do not sit down in despair. Go humbly to the Lord and say, "Lead me not into temptation." That is the very bottom-rung prayer of the ladder of grace, and yet it is a prayer that rises as sweet incense from a soul that knows its own weakness. You are in good company when you pray it, for the Lord Jesus Himself taught us so to pray.
As for this young man, you have done the kind and honest thing by telling him where you stand. You need not ghost him or treat him cruelly. Continue to be courteous at work, as a Christian should be to all. But guard your own heart. If his sweetness tugs at you, take it to the Lord in secret. There is a kind of meditation that is most healthful for the soul in times like this, not a fretting, anxious turning of the matter over and over, but a lifting of the whole weight onto Christ. The Psalmist said, "My meditation of Him shall be sweet." When the attention of a creature disturbs your peace, let the thought of your Lord calm you. He is the God of your salvation. No human affection, however pleasant, can give you what you already have in Him, pardon, acceptance, a sure hope, a Father who will not let one good thing pass you by.
And about that deep conviction you have held from a young age, that you are to wait on God for your spouse, do not think it is a small thing. It is a treasure that He planted in your soul. Many have made shipwreck of their lives by choosing a partner without God, because they grew tired of waiting. The man who will one day be your husband, if the Lord so wills, will be worth every year of patient hope. And you will look back on this season and bless the God who kept you from running too quickly down a path that would have led you away from His best.
Until then, keep your soul in the deep waters of redeeming love. The way to God is not by climbing up on the thin air of human reasoning, but by sailing down into the depths of what Christ has done for you. You are not keeping yourself for Him by your own strength. He is keeping you, and He has never yet lost a soul that trusted in Him.
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Father, into Your hands I commend this dear one. You see the tangle of affections and fears within her. Quiet her heart, and let her know that You are not angry with her for being tempted, for being pulled, for being a woman with a human heart. She has set her hope on You, and she has not let go of her integrity. Strengthen the holy resolves You have given her, and let the sweetness of Christ be so real to her that no lesser sweetness can steal her peace. Keep her from every step that would grieve You, and lead her gently on the path You have marked out. In the strong name of Jesus, Amen.