in my personal experience with singleness, it has come with its own set of joy and pain, beauty and sorrow. like every other thing in this life, that mix of both. and it has also come with its own set of lies. tonight was a particularly difficult night for me in my singleness. i drove home from my parents' house after some plans with friends fell through and just cried. cried about a whole mix of things. a mix of how did i get here when i had something else picked out for my twenty-three-year-old life? and don't you see me God? and fighting hard to not feel unwanted and fighting hard not to let every deep insecurity of mine be named the reason i'm not enough and begging God to show me some tangible way He loves and knows me intimately.
i wanted to write about it because writing has become a profound way of processing and healing in my life and because i wanted to see if my experience might resonate with any of my single sisters also crying in their cars on their way home at night because singleness, as beautiful and special, which i deeply believe it to be both of those things, is also very hard sometimes. i am hesitant to say this here for a number of reasons. i don't want to be misunderstood as being desperate for a man, perceived as trying to solicit attention by being super dramatic, as misunderstanding real relationships, or as alarming you that i'm not okay and you need to check on me or something. inside i'm also fighting the vulnerability of this and fear being seen as weak. none of those things are true. i'm fine and live a gift of a life. this is just me, being real. being sad about being single. i just want to encourage a single sister out there needing to hear someone say "me too." i think those words are so healing. so me, too, sister. i'm here with you and also journeying towards figuring out all the ways Jesus can be the one who whispers i am enough. for those words from Him are the only ones that settle that deep thing in our hearts craving to be known and adored and seen.
i remember when i was a kid i sometimes would cry at night in my bed over different things, (don't remember what but who knows, just a lil nug trying to figure out all of my massive emotions :)) and my dad would sometimes sit by my bed and pat my hair back over and over until eventually i would settle down. that beautiful settling down, you know that peace that comes in your shoulders after a good cry, now comes for me from sweet Jesus about this stuff. when i'm struck with this pain, i think about Him and His gentleness with me. His great care for me. i cling to what i know to be true about Him... like how He thinks about me and knows the hairs on my head. like how He is slow to anger and rich in steadfast love. His gentleness. oh, His gentleness. His warmth.
you can borrow these thoughts, dear sister. ask God to help you believe them from your heart. ask Him that they'd sink in deep.
i don't have many answers for you or the perfectly right thing to say to make you feel better and feel worthwhile, but i offer you this Jesus. this Jesus who i've gotten to know deeper and sweeter through that beautiful tension of the specific joy and specific pain of being single.
(picture taken from pinterest)
"aslan, aslan. dear aslan,” sobbed lucy. “at last.”
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