Fulfilled in February
As I was reading and praying through your feedback to the recent survey here on YLCF, my heart alternately rejoiced and broke over your prayer requests and your stories. Thank you for sharing! As one single to another, I too have known what it’s like to wonder if you’ll ever find love. As you shared your stories, I’d like to share a little bit of mine, in the hope that the Lord would encourage you no matter what season of singleness or relationship you find yourself in…
The word “fulfilled” is connotative of completeness, a bringing of something or someone to their full potential. However, “fulfilled” is rarely associated with singleness – to the point that a lot of people don’t believe it’s possible to be both single and fulfilled. Yet the Lord has been showing me the last few years that in Christ it is possible to be single and fulfilled: I can live for Him to my fullest potential whether married or single.
I was raised to be a wife and mom; all my dreams centered on that purpose. Yet today, I am still single. I’ve known love and brokenness. I know what it feels like to watch dreams die. I’ve known pain and peace, longing and trust. I know the tension of being happy for my friends, as one after another their princes arrived, while coming to grips with the reality that – once again – my prince has yet to come.
As the years passed, I began to wonder if there was more to life than waiting for marriage and a family. Did the waiting have to always be filled with the intense pain of longing? What if I never marry – then what? Despair followed that thought. I began spending my single years aimless and lost.
How shortsighted I was! My desire for a God-given, good thing had become an idol in my life. We are slaves to whatever masters us (2 Peter 2:19). I spent more time worrying about my relationships – or lack of them – than I did on thinking of how to glorify the Lord. My singleness mastered me – not my Lord.
God in His grace took me on a journey showing me that there is more! We were created to be helpmeets and desire relationships. But I need not sacrifice my todays on the altar of what ‘might be’ tomorrow.
The journey began with learning to glorify Him. It included discovering my passions and then using them to serve Him. My newfound desire to build a legacy for His glory is not limited by my relationship status. I’m still on this journey, but I am learning that it is possible to come to a place of still desiring marriage while living fulfilled as a single person.
Currently, I work fulltime, have my own place, and am actually enjoying this season! Is this what I thought my life would look like, or what I dreamed of when I was growing up? No. One of my deepest longings is still to be married and work alongside my husband in ministry someday. But the Lord has called me to something that doesn’t cancel out my wish to be married. In fact, what He’s called me to enhances and fulfills the desire I have to be married because it encompasses it: He has called me to glorify Him.
Perhaps, as C.S. Lewis once wrote, our desires to be married aren’t bad — they just aren’t big enough!
If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion … is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
-C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory
Cinderella, the Real World and the God Of Surprises
I met Cinderella when my parents took me and my baby sister to London. I was sure I was going to see The Queen of England. We went with another homeschool family, and their mother read me the story of Cinderella on the ride in the train.
I was enchanted, though now I’m not sure why. Maybe it was because Cinderella had brown eyes and brown hair, like mine. Most princesses in stories were blue-eyed and golden-haired and the discovery of a princess who looked “just like me” was exciting! Or maybe it was because Cinderella wore a pink dress to the ball; pink was my favourite colour. Or maybe … maybe, although I had a limited understanding of wicked stepmothers and ugly stepsisters and charming princes, it was because of the magic wand and the glass slippers and the happy ending.
Whatever it was, I identified with Cinderella somehow. And there’s a sense in which I’ve been waiting for a fairy godmother and a pumpkin coach – waiting for a moment of transformation and a way to meet a prince – since I was four years old.
But this is the real world; I don’t believe in fairy godmothers and pumpkin coaches. Some girls never marry. Maybe there isn’t a prince for me out there “somewhere”. I know I’m not entitled to love and marriage!
But then I remember that God created me and knew me before I was born. That He put a little bit of eternity in my heart. That, someday, He’s coming for me and all His people here on earth.
So this yearning for more – for transformation and love and happily ever after? It’s a gift, in a way, from Him to keep my heart from getting too comfortable with the here and now. It’s a gift from Him to keep my heart close to His heart. It’s a gift from Him to keep me chasing, with all my heart, the One who is my Creator, my Saviour, my Comfort.
Cinderella wasn’t real, but there are other women who were real – as real as I am – who also had a yearning for more. God was their God as well as my God. He disturbed their hearts, He asked them to keep their hearts close to His heart, He asked them to chase Him with all their hearts. There were no fairy godmothers and pumpkin coaches in their lives. I’m not sure that their princes would have won any prizes for charm, being dwellers in the desert, physical workers, farmers and shepherds and carpenters who had beards and big, rough hands and wore robes and sandals.
God surprises me all the time – and He surprised them too.
- Sarah was ninety years old when God told her that she was going to have a child. Can you imagine, for decades, yearning to nurture a child and watching other women with their children and trying not to cry because your womb and arms were empty … and then, in your old age, being told that you would finally conceive and birth a child? Sarah laughed! We wonder how she could laugh at God. But don’t we laugh at God too? And, really, the idea of a woman in her nineties having a baby is, well, laughable!
- Rahab was an innkeeper – a woman with a doubtful reputation. But her lifestyle didn’t stop her from recognising the power of God and putting her faith in the One who rescued the Israelites from slavery and parted the Red sea. She was not only saved from the destruction of Jericho, she married an Israelite and became the mother of a righteous man called Boaz.
- Ruth was a widow – a women for whom love, from now on, would not be “first love”, but “second love”. She left her home and her family to accompany her mother-in-law into a new land where Ruth was a stranger. She was poor and she had to work to support her family. She was diligent and industrious and the man who welcomed her into his fields to glean married her and provided her with a home and a son – a son who would someday be the grandfather of Israel’s greatest hero and king.
- Esther was an orphan and a captive in a strange land. She was far from home when she was taken to the palace of the heathen king and prepared to be a royal bride. She was beautiful and she captivated the heart of the king. He crowned her queen of Persia and, unknowingly, gave her the power that she needed in order to save her people from destruction.
- Mary was a country girl engaged to a country boy when an angel appeared and told her that she was going to give birth to the Messiah of Israel and the Saviour of the World. Mary could have refused to be a single mother, but she accepted God’s will for her life. She gave birth to a baby boy in a stable and, through her, history was changed forever.
God doesn’t promise to give all women babies or, even, to give all women husbands. He promises that He has a plan for our lives and He asks us to believe that He is faithful. And He shows us, in the lives of the women of the Bible, that He is able, at any moment, to step into the midst of our lives and surprise us in wonderful ways. So wherever you are in life, remember that although Cinderella is just a fairy tale, God is as real (or more real!) than the world in which we live and He is “the God of Surprises”.
Oh … and The Queen? There was a state visit and Buckingham Palace was out of sight between crowds of people lining The Mall to watch The Queen and her guests as they went past in a state carriage. My family and I joined the crowds, my father lifted me up on his shoulders, I waved … and I really did see The Queen! God cares for our hearts. Nothing is impossible to Him. And He loves to surprise us when we’re least expecting it …
Lizard Love and Loneliness
Ever been to the zoo and seen a pile of reptiles lounging together? Their intimacy is almost embarrassing, but it has little to do with affection. Most reptiles are cold-blooded and need the warmth they receive from each other to get through a cloudy day or chilly season.
In this way, we’re a lot like lizards. We were built to thrive in the warmth and accountability of close, Christian fellowship. Many of us taste of this here and there through a Bible study or with a girlfriend who walks closely with the Lord, but we look forward to that ‘best friend for life’ — our spouse — because then we will have a spiritual partner to grow and learn alongside. Someone who will always be available as the second soul in that ‘gathering together in my Name’ equation.
I was no exception. When I got married I expected that, along with the emotional and physical oneness I was promised, I’d at last have that spiritual partnership I thought was a part of every good, Christian marriage. But as the weeks of the honeymoon and then the first years of our marriage swept by with wonderful harmony and joy, I felt something was missing. My husband was kind, gentle, and a good provider, but his spiritual life didn’t look anything like mine, and our spiritual intimacy was not what I expected it would be.
Trying to be sweet and submissive, I didn’t complain. At least, not often. I was afraid that sharing my discontent with my husband would erode his confidence and show discontent for all he did provide. Yet, I was lonely. I wanted to grow spiritually and had expected all my life that my husband would be my closest companion on this journey. Occasionally I would break down and reveal to my husband my feelings, but mostly I kept it bottled inside, an ache I was both afraid and ashamed of.
Finally, last year, I couldn’t stand it any longer. Thankfully, God had a plan all lined up, ready for when I quit doing this in my own strength and fully gave it to Him.
Do you feel spiritually alone? Maybe you’re feeling unequally yoked in marriage, or are the only believer in your family. You’re starving for spiritual accountability but you’re not getting it from the places you expected and wanted it the most. Perhaps the journey the Lord has led me on in the past year may inspire or encourage you.
The way to fight loneliness in marriage is to reach out and make connections. (Tweet this!)
You and A Friend
It was the words of a close friend that allowed me take the first, vital step toward addressing the ache. She encouraged me, “Be honest with yourself. Admit that you’ve experienced a loss in these unmet expectations. Let yourself grieve.” Only then would I be free to move on into the healing. When she spoke those words to me, I began to weep tears of grief, which quickly turned, surprisingly, to ones of relief and hope. I’d been carrying my secret burden for so long, unable to admit reality. Once I faced the situation I was suddenly able to hope for change.
You don’t need to face this alone. Seek out a friend or mentor who can encourage you as you make steps to heal and grow. But be sure the relationship with your girlfriend pushes you back to God and your spouse. Don’t allow any influence that disrespects your man or encourage self-pity or pride in your heart.
You and God
Go to God. Go ahead and ask God the hard questions. You may be surprised at the glimpse He will give into His heart for you and your marriage. Ask Him why He’s allowed this, and how He wants you to respond.
Don’t be afraid to grow alone. In the story of Joseph we see the Lord leading Joseph to a place of great growth and prosperity, but it was not without sacrifice. When he was called from the prison to the palace to interpret the Pharaoh’s dream, he shaved his beard out of deference to Egyptian custom. Did you ever think about how that beard was the final thing linking him to his Hebrew roots — and that shaving it could mean his loved ones wouldn’t recognize him if they ever came looking? I admit to being unwilling to grow on my own, afraid to leave loved ones behind. Don’t let this fear cripple your spiritual life. I do believe God desires us to have close spiritual communion with our spouses, but if that’s not the case yet, you should not let that stop you from deepening your own relationship with the Lord.
You and Your Man
Revealing your hurt and fear to your husband can be the hardest step, as we fear appearing judgmental. But keeping him shut out of this part of your life isolates both of you. God says it is not good for man to be alone and created marriage for companionship. We walk a fine line when we address unmet needs in marriage, but honesty is crucial. He needs to know how you feel. Have your friend pray as you begin the process. Ask the Lord to give you a pure heart and direct your timing.
Live 1 Peter 3:1-5:
In the past I was afraid to apply these verses to my life, for fear it would imply I had an ‘unbelieving husband’. But a meek and quiet spirit is an asset in any marriage. In the book, The Resolution, author Priscilla Shirer explains that the Greek meanings of “meek” and “quiet” can be boiled down to humility, kindness, and orderliness. She says,
“If we will funnel our wifely behavior and responses through the Biblical filter, we will intentionally become more careful and circumspect… We’ll attempt to make things easier instead of harder for him, tempering our words and actions with peace and discreetness causing him to feel more confident because he knows we’re not here to tear him down, but to build him up.”
Do you think that connecting spiritually with your spouse would be easier if you maintained a bit more humility and orderliness in your personal life? If our men did not feel threatened by our prideful spirituality, and if our days actually held the promise of a few moments together, this could allow things to grow. Routine is discipline’s greatest ally. Are you making order a priority?
When you talk, share with your husband what you feel you’re already doing right as a couple, and what makes you feel close spiritually. Brainstorm together on how you can cultivate this aspect of your relationship. Perhaps it’s a new devotional, keeping a prayer journal, or carving out time to attend a couple’s Bible study.
Finally, give it time and don’t despise small beginnings. Little ones, tight budgets, long work hours — sometimes you‘re just surviving in this season. Cultivating your spiritual relationship will take time, even if you’re both on the same page. Be faithful with the moments you have — even if it’s just once a week — and trust God to fulfill His best for your marriage.
A few months after our tearful conversation on her living room floor, I was excited to give my prayer-partner a report. Not only had God opened my eyes to begin to understand my husband’s spirituality (it was there, but looked very different than mine), but He was also working in our relationship since I’d finally had the guts to face my unmet expectations and pray about them. We’re communicating honestly about the spiritual side of our relationship and growing closer as we understanding each other. And, he’s initiated a weekly prayer and devotional time using the book Closer by Jim Burns. I think we been able to stick with this longer than any of our other attempts at devotions together because, 1) it’s doable for us in this season — there’s only one reading per week, and 2) he finally understands how important this is to me.
If you feel alone in marriage or in your spiritual life in general, I strongly encourage you to face the reality and then do something about it. Find a small group or Bible study to belong to. Find someone you respect that is willing to disciple you. Be willing to grow though you may feel like you’re leaving your spouse or your family behind. Joseph willingly stepped into opportunities for growth even though it meant further distancing himself from his family. In the end this allowed him to lead his family to a place where they, too, could thrive.
You don’t have to be alone. I pray God will lead you into the fellowship He created us to enjoy with Himself and His children.
meaning in the meantime
I am thirty-one years old and I have never been in love.
I’ve been in wondering. I’ve been in confusion. I’ve been in prayer. I’ve been in crush. Not love, though. Love – that kind of love – is still a marvelous, alluring mystery to me.
I’m talking about the love that’s more than distraction and infatuation, more, even, than wanting the very best for another person. I’m talking about love that develops into a deep, steady, abiding kind of thing. A thing that weathers storms and grows in spite of grievances and bothers and pain and the fact that you married someone who can occasionally be incredibly, incredibly stupid – so stupid that they married you, in fact, someone else who can be just as stupid. It’s the kind of love they write poetry about.
Sometimes it seems like people who get to experience that kind of love as an everyday habit are in an exclusive, secret club. How did they get there? Was there a magical handshake? A significant look exchanged with another in the dim light of an overcrowded room? Did little hearts come out of their eyes, meet in the space between, and explode into panoramas of tiny clouds dotted with even tinier cherubs playing (if you can believe it) even tinier harps?
I don’t know, but I sure miss it.
Is it possible to miss something you’ve never actually experienced? I believe it is. The creation story found in Genesis is dotted with God’s response to His creative work. Over and over, He looks at what He has made, and calls it good. It is only when He lingers on Adam that the creator-God pauses. Here is the first man – healthy, whole, and perfect – hanging out in a garden seeded and flowered by the mere words of God, living in pristine, unhindered fellowship with that same Being. Yet God looks at this picture and says, for the first time, ‘it is not good.’ It is not good for man to be alone (Genesis 2:18).
Even in perfection, being alone is hard.
Little wonder then that now, with our fallen world and every distraction conspiring to get between us and God, those of us who are alone truly feel it. Adam missed something he hadn’t ever known before. In just the same way, so can we.
It makes me wonder, then, why so many of us are still alone. If we’re pre-programmed, as it were, to find rest and companionship in the spiritual, relational, and physical union of marriage, why have so many of us simply…not? Why does almost everybody get the password to the secret clubhouse while a handful of us only get to linger at the windows, looking in?
I don’t know. I don’t know.
If your experience of extended singleness has been anything like mine, you’ve probably wondered what it all means. What is the deep and spiritual significance of this never-world which we’re navigating? What does it mean?
I suspect God’s got everything to do with it and He’s working something amazing in all this inexplicable singleness, but I’m not close to knowing exactly what. My conclusions have tended more in the opposite direction. I might not know what this extended singleness means, but I think I’m starting to know what it doesn’t mean.
Even though you and I may speculate otherwise, singleness doesn’t mean you’re unmarried because you are too fat or too skinny or too talkative or too quiet. It doesn’t mean you are too intimidating, reclusive, independent, or unattractive, too holy or not holy enough. It doesn’t mean you want it too bad or you don’t want it enough. It doesn’t mean you’re being punished for mistakes you’ve made or because you’re just too flawed.
Here’s a reality we all know, but often forget: flawed people get married. To make it even clearer, only flawed people get married. Annoying people get married. Loud people get married. Quiet people get married. Fat people get married. Skinny people get married. Selfish people get married. Weird people get married. People with bad teeth and poor posture and a habit of stating their minds frankly with no thought whatsoever to the outcome – these all get married. I’ll tell you what I bet your Mum has told you twenty times already: there are people in this world who are more unique and less lovable than you, and they are married.
Marriage really isn’t an exclusive club for the flawless. This is not to say we shouldn’t care about our health or our social skills or our appearance or our personality. God gave us life and a body and people around us, and we serve Him by doing what it takes to be healthy, gracious, compassionate, loving, approachable, and brave. But we do those things because we worship Him, not because we want to get married.
Although there may be a multitude of factors contributing to a woman’s singleness, there is no blanket answer that applies to all of us. The fact that you are single – that I am single – means only two things we can know without a shadow of a doubt: it means that we are not married, and it means God is in control. That is all.
These are truths I know, but there are days when I don’t believe them, days when I choose instead to wallow in the mire of my own failures, my perceived lack of marriable qualities, my confusion. There are days when I cry – mostly to my mother. There are hard things about seeing your younger siblings, cousins, and friends marry and bear children. It’s tough turning up to weddings without a plus-one. It’s tough putting on a polite and awkward smile when people repeatedly say, ‘You’ll be next!’ It’s even tougher when they stop saying it altogether because, well, it’s just getting too embarrassing to keep referencing the subject.
There are challenges in being single for an extended period that those who marry in their early twenties will never have to experience. There is a kind of grief in knowing that, should I get married someday, my body won’t be in its prime (if indeed it ever had a prime). I used to dream of being a young mum and having lots of children. I thought seven kids would be cool, but ten would be perfect. Now I just hope to be a mum, someday; the numbers don’t matter anymore. And I have to fight against a rejection complex which wants to examine the fact that though I’ve been on this earth for thirty-one years, there hasn’t yet been a man who chose me to do life with him and then stuck around for the long haul. That can hurt. It’s gut-wrenching, sometimes.
But: in the midst of all of that, I am weirdly and miraculously content. Over the past five years, I have found unexpected joys in the freedoms of singleness. I’ve learned to love taking charge of my own schedule, cooking food I enjoy, pouring all my baby-love into my nieces and nephews, having the freedom to meet with others for coffee whenever and wherever. I like that my schedule is more fluid. I can meet a friend for breakfast. Girls, I can stay up late reading if the book is especially good. I can put on a DVD and do a workout at 11pm. I can hone my writing skills and pursue this calling with a rare sort of intention. Does this all sound like some consolation prize? Second best, for the girl who doesn’t get to be married? It’s really not. I can honestly say that I love this season. The fact that I do is only a gift of grace. God is merciful.
A friend once said to me, ‘You’re only content now because you’ve given up on getting married.’ He couldn’t be more wrong. I still want to be married. I want it more every day. If that seems impossible, think about all the other paradoxical truths that co-exist peacefully. At the top of the list is the fact that I cherish this life, but boy I want to be in heaven someday.
Can we love the Now while craving the Not Yet? Absolutely. Isn’t that life in general? Isn’t that being a grown-up? The good stuff and the bad stuff all comes together and we survive and we smile and when we’re not crying, we actually really enjoy it.
I’ve seen friends kick and scream and resent the Now. I’ve seen them change in order to impress boys, go to church after church and party after party in the hope of meeting someone. They’re still where I am today, but they’re sadder and they’re incomplete. Lovely unwed friends, it is more than okay to hope for love in the future. We’re wired that way. But don’t let your future consume your present. Don’t let it paint your past in bitterness. You can love being single without giving up on love.
Don’t take my word for it, though. Take His. Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the Lord (Psalm 31:24). His abundant goodness is stored up for those who fear Him and take refuge in Him (Psalm 31:19). Women who look to Him are radiant, and those who seek Him lack no good thing (Psalm 34:5, 10). If you are unwed just now, then this is the Lord’s good thing for you, today. Does this crush you? He is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18).
He cares even more about your heart than you do. This I know.
Embracing His Promises {while living where you can’t see them}
It was a warm summer evening in North Port, Florida. Crickets were chirping and the air hummed with humidity. We sat on the edge of the pool; our feet dipped in the tepid waters.
“I made a list,” she said quietly.
“For?” I asked, eyebrows raised.
“Our husbands,” she pulled out a pink sheet of paper and handed it to me.
Our Necessaries it said. Thirty things were listed. I loved them all.
From “knowledgeable about the Word of God” to “wants lots of little babies” the list gave the epitome of the type of man I wanted someday.
About the time that my roommate was getting married and I hadn’t even had a date, I started to begrudge the list. Just a little. I still wanted it. I just didn’t want to wait for it.
Then God did something crazy. He asked me to give up my rights. He told me, in essence, “If you give up your dreams for yourself, I’ll give you Mine.”
I thought He was asking me to be single forever. And here’s the catch: I was good with that. I really was! Then I realized that He was asking me to be single for a time. And that was harder.
I’m much better at sacrificing than surrendering. I’m better at walking away completely than standing still.
The years before my husband showed up were hard years of learning and growing. I wasn’t good at it.
God asked me to believe that my husband was coming while I couldn’t see anyone on the horizon. It was a lesson in surrender. One that my heart desperately needed.
You see, now, years later, I am leaning heavily on the lessons I learned during that period of time. There is an art in giving things over to God without throwing them away and I’m trying to perfect it.
My heart wants to be a mom and right now, for some reason, God is saying, “give me your dreams”, just like He did all those years ago. I can’t make my body produce children any more than I could make a husband appear, but I serve a God who is in control.
This trial is a lot harder than waiting for a husband. At least for me. But the lessons I’m learning are the same. God wants my heart. He wants to be the very center of who I am. He wants my life to reflect Him.
I never thought I would say this, but: I’m glad for the years I had to believe for a husband without seeing him.
I’m so thankful that God grew my faith.
And today, when I look at that list (still on the pink paper in a scrapbook) I am humbled and grateful.
Every morning I get to wake up and work with my husband on our farm because God was faithful.
So! To those of you who are struggling to believe for something that you can’t see—whether it be a husband, a child, a job, a friend—know that He is faithful to do what He promised. And the lessons you are learning today are here to help with your tomorrows.
