Day 35

Sifting aside the pile of grief, being single again has come as a relief. The tension between Aaron and my internship has been released. It’s freeing to be more single-minded and focused on what I know God has called me to. Living with ten other women, my time is never fully my own, but the way I spend it feels more right. My budget is tight, but I can make my own decisions about how to spend what I have. In retrospect I can see that being with Aaron was never fully healthy because parts of myself felt constrained. Now I’m finding myself again and rediscovering things I love to do that bring life to my spirit. [Note to self: while laying my life down for another will be a part of marriage, the man I marry should not make me feel I have to hold parts of myself back.]

I lived large portions of my life before Aaron absolutely content with my singleness. It was something I fought for long and hard, and something I relished when the fruit of that contentment came. I can get on a soapbox and preach for a long time about how singleness does not mean you’ve been robbed of God’s goodness. Marriage isn’t needed to encounter the fullness of God’s kingdom, despite the way Christian church culture seems to believe otherwise (see Redeeming Singleness by Barry Danylak). So I’m not afraid of singleness. But there’s a flip side to that coin.

Singleness was comfortable for me. It felt safe. Dating Aaron was scary, but I felt the Lord drawing me out to become vulnerable and trust Him with my heart in a way I never had before. I didn’t want to say no to His goodness for my life. So I took a deep breath and jumped off the cliff, not knowing what the bottom would look like. Landing hurt. But here’s the miracle in all this. I would’ve expected my heart to shut down. Well I tried the relationship thing. Look what it gave me. I’m just going to stay single. It’s safer and easier. I’m not trusting you again God. I expected my heart to shut back up like a clam. But it hasn’t.

Being with Aaron awakened something in me that wasn’t there before. He wasn’t the end result. But he gave me a taste of what partnership could look like. Despite his brokenness, I can glimpse further ahead to what marriage might contain. And my heart wants it. Singleness is not going to be the same this time.

So here I am just a month out from a broken engagement and I know that I’ll be willing to try this whole love thing again. Not yet. I have some more grieving to do. But more than one thing can be true at the same time. My heart aches and doesn’t want to have anything to do with another man right now; yet it wants to know the right one is out there. I can tell by the twinge of wordless grief that throbs when I least expect it—overhearing an honorable man be affirming towards his wife, the growing belly of a friend who is expecting, being around children, registry notifications I no longer need. They are echoes of what I thought my life was forming into, but now that’s no longer true. Perhaps, one day, that dream will get to reform. But for now, those things are out of reach. And that’s harder to grapple with this time around, because now I understand I want them.

So I’m back to the age old question—how do I can keep my heart honest, tender, and alive to good, God-given desires while sustaining the pain of having those desires go unfulfilled in the here and now? I’ve walked too far into both ditches on either side of this narrow line in the past. Neither one is life-giving. So this time will I be able to find a better balance?