So, yes. I’m single. I don’t have a boyfriend or partner or husband. I don’t have the 3 children that I dream for, in the lovely house in the country where I will have time to bake and do all the fun things that perfect people do (like in the adverts). Have two and a half years to go before I’m thirty (scary times) and no, I’m not on the shelf.
I’m losing count of the times when people have said “I don’t know why you’re still single – there’s nothing wrong with you” or, “You’re not exactly ugly, are you”, or even (a personal favourite) “You’re off to a wedding…do you know that 80% of people meet their other half at a wedding?”
I’m not worried though. I mean, I am only 27. I do still have a few years in which I can work to achieve my dream, as long as I find someone right. Mr Right. Preferably tall, dark and handsome. Funny would be good too. And someone who doesn’t mind helping around the house and all those sorts of things.
But then I think, well, maybe there is something wrong. Maybe there is some sort of arrow pointing down onto my head that I can’t see, but that marks me out as “ooh, I wouldn’t go there…” Maybe the only sort of person who is ever going to fall in love with me will be the person that I could never return the love for. Maybe I’m boring. Maybe I’m fat and ugly and just not interesting at all. Maybe my hair gets too greasy, or I have bad breath and need better deodrant (and I really hope that someone would tell me if that was the case), or maybe…..
And then I have to remind myself to STOP. Because it isn’t really about me is it? Surely it is about falling in love with another person so much that these things don’t matter any more. Its about a relationship that mirrors God’s love with his people – and I think, quite honestly, I’m just not there yet.
I’m sure we have all heard the cheesy statement from someone newly in a relationship that God had been waiting for them to be happy being single and content with life before he provided their Mr Perfect. Just popping out to throw up for a minute.
In my imagination, somehow a husband and the 3 perfect children will solve everything. I will know that I’m loved. I will have a real family again. I won’t need to worry about where I will spend Christmas. Somehow everything will be allright.
Surely I should know these things already? I should know that I am loved unconditionally by the Creator of the Universe, who cared so much that he sent Jesus to die on my behalf. Surely I know that I do have a family. My biological family may be a bit broken, but I do have a family of other Christians who are there (mostly) instead. And there are people who gladly invite me to spend special times with them.
Let’s face it, no husband is really going to measure up to God, are they? However perfect, however right they might be. But I don’t want to let go of those dreams just yet. Maybe I need to grasp the fact that I don’t need someone else to make me complete. Another person is not going to take away all of my problems.
Clearly, I need to trust in God. I need to remember his goodness and his faithfulness, and let him change me and challenge me, transforming me day by day into being more like Jesus. But I probably need to stop beating myself up about it along the way.
So I don’t really have any answers. Hopefully there is nothing drastically wrong with me, and being single is actually good fun. But I do still dream of Mr Right.
Calling into the silence 