A Precious Gift
On Sunday morning, I woke up late, which is unusual for me, and I was scrambling to get to church on time, juggling ice packs and freezer bags and a bible and too many other things, like my green smoothie. Setting my breakfast and my purse in the trunk of my car, I pulled the freezer bag off my shoulder, and BAM, smoothie went flying all over the trunk. Did I mention it was raining and the muddy ground sucked my foot into a puddle…in sandals? After breaking the hose nozzle and executing a hasty clean up with a promise to clean it better once I got home, I threw the dirty towels over the railing in the rain and hurried to church where I was looking forward to encountering God and getting my bungle of a morning back on track.
Then, I showed up tardy to a sermon where a panel of married couples sat side-by-side in a neat row on stage to talk about their relationships. Immediately, I let out a sigh and rolled my eyes while thinking, “Oh great, people shoving marriage into the face of a 33-year-old woman who hasn't had a date in years. Why did I rush to get here?” Seems unduly dramatic, but that was my honest thought, probably because I hadn’t eaten and I was sure my car would smell like a compost bin by the end of the day. However, as they shared their stories, I found myself in tears for more than one reason. More on that shortly.
First, super honesty time: I am tired of singleness. I want a husband to build a life with, to share intimately with, to partner and serve with, to love deeply. Yes, I have family and friends who love me, and of course, I have Jesus who loves me even more. Hear me loud and clear: I am happy, I am content, I love this life I’ve been given, and I am hoping to make the most of it, but even at the end of my best days, I sleep in an empty apartment. I eat most meals alone. No one brings me a coffee or little something just because or holds me when I cry or helps me scramble to clean up the gobs of smoothie in my trunk before it soaks into the upholstery. I do every chore, make every purchase, and tackle every problem by myself. It’s no secret that I want to have a life partner, and I’ve wanted it for years, hoped and prayed for it (and even had a couple go-rounds of online dating), but still, I wait…and waiting isn’t fun. It has this way of heightening our awareness of all the people who have what we desire. And as I type today, I am still fighting back tears because I want to find my person but also because I see the grace in God making me wait, and I am thankful for it.
Yes, I said grace, let me explain.
As each of the couples spoke, they talked about various wounds and addictions that they’d brought into their marriages, and how they seemed to grow and fester early on in their unions. Anger issues, alcoholism, addiction to pornography, control and manipulation….you name it. Interestingly, each couple was also married when they were much younger than me, which is what I always thought I wanted (I used to say I’d be married by the time I was 26; as if I could control it - hah!). But in my waiting, God has given me a longer runway to help heal my own wounds and addictions. He has given me the gift of time to break off generational behavior patterns, to grow into a healthier, more secure, more confident woman. The gift of knowing Him more fully. I believe He has given that same gift to my future husband. That’s where the grace is.
You may not be waiting on a life partner, but it’s likely you’re waiting on something, so I want to remind you of what I often forget when I’m in my feelings - waiting is actually a precious gift. It’s an opportunity for God to iron out the creases of your heart, to mend the tears in your soul and patch the holes in your mind. If you have faith in the purpose of your season, waiting can be a healing balm for the wounds you didn’t know you had (or the wounds you thought were healed but actually weren’t). Waiting can bring you closer to God and closer to the best version of yourself for your next season of life.
Waiting isn’t a burden as we often proclaim; it is a blessing.
Remembering this turned Sunday’s tears of bitterness into tears of thankfulness and hope and knowing, knowing that I am seen and loved enough to let my heart heal and grow in grace before I give it to another human. Embrace the goodness of your waiting season with me, and let’s see where it takes us.
Love you, mean it <3
