Singleness is the new black

G:

Like the president of Russia deeming the Olympic ceremonies open, I deem singleness the new black.

Cue torch:

olympic torch

Because let’s face it: singleness is like glitter at a crafts table.

It’s everywhere.

Now more than ever, people are getting married later in life. Now more than ever, articles about singleness are spreading like the bubonic plague. Now more than ever, singleness isn’t a curse. It’s OK.

And dare I say it, it’s COOL.

Sure, there are a host of reasons why our culture is seeing a plethora of singles: couples are already cohabitating, marriage isn’t viewed as necessary anymore, college grads are crippled by student loans, etc. But there are a host of different reasons You love singleness: we have unprecedented amounts of time to serve You in ways you created us uniquely for right now.

While our culture may view singleness as cool in their own eyes, I see singleness as cool from Your eyes.

I’m sensing a Paul revival a la 1 Corinthians 7:34-35 in light of 7:8:

Singleness: it’s all good.

Your happily single child,

m

Advertisements

HOW I DON’T WANT TO SOUND DURING A GIRLS’ NIGHT DISCUSSION ON PREMARITAL SEX

shut up judge judy

Without a touch of:

judge judy

Sharing your beliefs without judgement. #dontbejudgejudy

Based off Allison’s #christiangirlproblem: “Feeling like you’re the only one who believes in waiting for sex until after marriage at girls night…how to not sound like Judge Judy.”

Thanks for sharing, Allison!

WHEN I THINK ABOUT THE IDEA OF ACTUALLY GETTING MARRIED

scared baby

Based off Elyse’s #christiangirlproblem: “Fear. When/if God brings my dreamboat along, setting sail into the sunset is pretty scary! I’ve been single for a long time and haven’t dated anyone since being saved (2.5 years ago). Am I ready to date? If so, what will that even look like?”

Thanks for sharing, Elyse (http://standoutscripture.blogspot.com/)!

WHAT I HAVE TO KEEP TELLING MYSELF WHEN I GET EXCITED FOR THE PREMIERE OF THE BACHELOR TONIGHT

watching the bachelorette

But, but– the show provides such a great study into the psyches of 25 spray tanned girls who might tilt heavily towards the side of insanity– talk about entertainment every Monday night for two hours!

And this is why a Christian Bachelor show could never be made.

15 RESPONSES TO COMMENTS ABOUT YOUR SINGLENESS THIS CHRISTMAS

1. “Are we currently experiencing an earthquake or is that your biological clock ticking?”

really you want to go there lifeinpub

2. “I just know you are going to find someone soon and be married within 6 months!”

delusional lifeinpublishing

3. “So tell me, any new guys in your life? Wink, wink!”

dont ask me about in a relationship

4. “It’s too bad you’re allergic to cats. They make great companions. Especially in large quantities.”

rude don qui qui

5. “Why don’t you just put yourself out there more?”

uncle si im invisible

6. “There are plenty of fish in the sea!”

laughter

7. “God is going to bring him into your life when you least expect it!”

monsters inc girl blink

8. “You’re still single because guys are intimidated by you.”

when someone tells me im too intimidating to date

9. “Guys don’t like girls who can eat more Christmas cookies than them.”

michael scott you are a thief of joy

10. “My coworker’s brother has a sister who has a son who has a friend who just got out on parole…He’s tall!”

no thank you tina fey

11. “You’re just too picky.”

throne of lies

12. “Why don’t you create accounts on eHarmony, Christian Mingle, Plenty of Fish, Match.com, and heck, put up a Craigslist ad ‘Single and Christian on Christmas’ just to cover all your bases?”

aint nobody got time for dat

13. “If all else fails, I heard a rumor that the government might be legalizing marriage of first cousins.”

lucille ball

14. “Enjoy being single while you can!”

christina aguilera preach

15. “Do you know what happened to all the Christmas cookies?”

shirley temple giggle

AN OPEN LETTER TO ANYONE ASKING WHY I’M STILL SINGLE THIS CHRISTMAS

Very excited that Converge Magazine picked up this post! Check it out here.

I’d like for everyone to take a moment and look at my left ring finger.

Yes. It is naked.

I’m going to stop you right there, like you’re a telemarketer trying to sell me a lifetime supply of gold to hoard in my non-existent safe:

I’m good, thanks.

In an effort to save energy on both our parts, I’ve taken the liberty of compiling the most frequently asked questions with my responses. (Laminated for durability given the undetermined amount of multi-year usage.)

1.       Have you met any nice gentlemen recently?

Three weeks ago, I ordered something online through Amazon’s two day shipping. I received a knock on my apartment door, and I opened it. Before me was a FedEx man in a brown uniform holding a brown box. He handed the box to me, smiled, and said, “Have a nice day.”

2.     Why don’t you try online dating?

Someone once told me kidney stones were as painful as childbirth. When compared to online dating, kidney stones sound like a combination of winning the lottery, going to Disney World, and frolicking in a meadow full of daises and labradoodles. While eating an ice cream cone.

3.       Why don’t you move to where there are more eligible bachelors?

Are you referring to an actual place in America? Or in a utopian piece of literature?

The truth is, I’m happy. Honestly. I’m not pulling your leg — my fingers aren’t crossed behind my back because they’re too busy balancing a mountain of Christmas cookies.

While I’m thankful you’re praying God will put the right man into my life — and soon (I’m still not quite sure how to interpret that) — I’m pretty sure God knows what He’s doing with me.

Right now, I’m single.

And right now, I’m loving every minute of it.

I’m not living like marriage is my end goal, like it’s the only reason God put me on this earth. I’m here to know Him and to make Him known — in my workplace, in my friendships, in laughter, in writing, and in utilizing my gifts and talents. He has me in my current job, city, apartment, church, sphere of influence, and relationship status for a reason.

I’m content right where He has me.

(Isn’t that all that matters anyway?)

So let’s talk about other things — important things — like how many cookies you think I could shove in my mouth at once. And how Christ alone completes me. And what He’s doing in my life.

Speaking of important things and Christ, rumor has it that it’s His birthday.

WHY THE BAR PRINCIPLE SHOULD BE APPLIED TO OTHER VENUES WHERE THE EXCHANGE OF GOODS FOR MONEY OCCUR

(THE UNREALISTIC DEMANDS OF A MODERN SINGLE CHRISTIAN YOUNG ADULT WOMAN)

marshall bar

It’s late on a Saturday night, and I’m sporting an outfit inspired from someone’s Pinterest board entitled “threads and treads” when I see him in my peripheral vision and my insides suddenly begin practicing for the floor routine in the next summer Olympics in Brazil.

He approaches me, smiles, and I get a waft of scents I’m only used to smelling after walking by the Abercrombie and Fitch store at the mall. I flip my hair over my shoulder, blink my eyes in a fashion that hopefully isn’t confused as battling a rogue eyelash, and smile just enough to show interest and not desperation. He leans in and rather seductively whispers “excuse me, can I buy you a gallon of milk?”

He grabs my gallon of 1% cow juice out of my shopping cart and proceeds to scan it at the self-check out line in the grocery store. Surprisingly, he has a coupon. He looks at me, winks, and my stomach sticks the landing and I hear distant cheers in Portuguese. “So what do you say? Can I get your number?”

I never get a chance to give him my number because this never happened. Ever. To any girl who ever lived.

As the name aptly implies, the bar principle is only applicable in bars. A locale not unlike the African safari, where a guy makes his way across the smoky and loud room like a lion spotting a gazelle after three days without food. After a time of admiring his prey from afar and surveying the competition, he swoops in unexpectedly and asks to buy her a drink. Then he takes her home.

As a general rule of thumb, the lion doesn’t stalk the same prey twice.

The bar principle is also clearly a cost effective one: instead of buying her a cheesesteak with a side of French fries, he buys her something cheap. After all, a lion isn’t successful on each and every hunt.

But for the herd of Christian girls who aren’t found roaming in bars, we’re looking for more than one cheap drink and a one night stand. We’re looking for a commitment. We’re looking for a lifetime.

We’re looking for a good Christian gentleman to pay for 1/3 of the groceries in our shopping cart.

A serious pursuit of a serious relationship should begin in a bookstore when both our hands happen to reach for Crazy Love on the top shelf (he will be tall like me, obviously) and we commence witty banter about Christian literature and Twilight. He’ll ask to buy the book in my hand. I’ll say yes. We’ll get married and have 2 kids (a girl and a boy) and live in a 4 bedroom 2.5 bathroom house on a corner lot with enough of a yard for a hypoallergenic crossbreed canine.

A serious pursuit of a serious relationship should begin at a gas station that is not in New Jersey where they pump the gas for you and he comes to my rescue because the gas tank cap is stuck. He’ll tell me that my rear left tire looks like it needs more air in it. I’ll tell him he’s probably right. He’ll ask if he can pay for my tank of gas. I’ll say yes. We’ll get married and travel the world for three years developing a slight obsession with cruise lines until we decide to settle down and have 2 kids (a girl and a boy) and live in a 4 bedroom 2.5 bathroom house on a corner lot with enough of a yard for a hypoallergenic crossbreed canine.

A serious pursuit of a serious relationship should begin at a coffeeshop where I’m writing a post for my blog that nobody reads except my parents and some random person I’ve never met in Hong Kong, and it’s raining and he comes in and he’s wet because guys in America never carry umbrellas with them. He sits down at the table next to me and I offer him a napkin because that’s the best I can do and he asks if he can buy me a tall double chocolate chip frappuccino and one of those really expensive cake pops. I’ll say yes. We’ll get married and he’ll guest blog on my blog and we’ll have five total readers, his parents, my parents, and that random person I’ve never met in Hong Kong until we settle down and have 2 kids (a girl and a boy) and live in a 4 bedroom 2.5 bathroom house on a corner lot with enough of a yard for a hypoallergenic crossbreed canine.

All this gazelle is looking for is a good Christian gentleman to make his pursuit serious. Don’t give me cheap. Don’t give me once and done. Don’t ask for the bare minimum. Ask with the ultimate goal of everything—Christ centered, two-becoming-one-til-death-do-us-part everything.

But if the bar principle never has any hope of transferring to other venues where the exchange of goods for money occurs, I’ll settle for a good, Christian man making his way through a crowded grocery store to find me and he’ll lean in and rather seriously ask “excuse me, can I spend time getting to know you?” I’d be out whatever the current state minimum is for a gallon of milk, but there would still be the sound of distant cheers in Portuguese.

Runaway Bride

runaweay bride

photo: smartrelationshipadvice.com

G:

I had my runaway bride dream last night. It’s been a while since I’ve had that dream. It used to be my reoccurring dream, along with the one where I’m driving down the highway and my brakes don’t work or the one where my teeth fall out and I’m screaming “but those weren’t baby teeth so I can’t even get a quarter for each!”

It’s always variations of the same dream—it’s the morning of my wedding and I don’t want to do it anymore. And I never know who the guy is. Never. Sometimes I get all the way to the front of the aisle, other times I don’t even get the dress on. And I’m filled with anxiety, a sense of dread that I’m not ready for this. It happened too fast, too soon. And who is this guy? Where is he? Why don’t I see him? The dream last night I remember looking at my phone wondering why I didn’t have a text from him saying he was excited to marry me that day. Jerk. So I told my parents who were sitting in the living room with me that I wasn’t doing it anymore and I apologized if the caterer wouldn’t be giving a refund but at least they could freeze everything and feast off it for the next 10 years.

I guess a Psychologist would say I have a latent (or blatant) fear of marrying the wrong person. I feel it is the biggest, most important decision I will ever make (aside from following You of course). We’re talking about spending the next 50-60 years with that person. Starting a whole new line of generations like you read in Genesis:

This is the account of M and [insert name of unidentified husband here] who themselves had sons and daughters four years after their travels around the world and attempting to pay off all their schools loans.

The sons and daughters of M:

Hayden, Alexandra, and Arden, Riley, and Jordan (triplets who were not planned but were “divine intervention”).

The sons and daughters of Hayden:

Nathan, Emerson, Caleb

The sons and daughters of Alexandra:

Robert, Roxanna, and Kayleigh

The one and only child of Arden who was spoiled rotten:

Edward

The sons of Riley:

Eric, Jonathan, and Brian

The sons and daughters of Jordan:

Madison and Matthew

 The region in which they lived stretched out from the Upper West side of Manhattan to just left of a bison in Wyoming. These are the clans of M and [insert name of unidentified husband here], according to their lines of descent, and within their United States of America.

No offense, but you know I just begin to glaze over those genealogies after a while. They just go on and on. Just like the generations I could create. That’s a lot pressure.

But there is no right person out there for me. They are all going to be wrong.

They are all wrong because they are all imperfect. Just like me. Because we’re human.

And that’s where you come in. I do believe you have given me the chance to choose, and I can choose to follow You and let You lead me to your best (Proverbs 3: 5-6). Including a husband. Especially my husband. He won’t be perfect, but he’ll be your best for me.

So how will I know? How long will it take of dating said unidentified husband before I know? Hearing about people who met, date, and get married all within a year of meeting each other seriously makes me feel like I’m going to throw up from anxiety all over this letter.

How can I make sure I won’t be running away and leaving my parents with an industrial size freezer full of stuffed chicken?

I’m not sure. Because I haven’t been sure before. Because it hasn’t been your best for me before. I’ve always been running away. So I’ll just wait. And be patient. And have faith you’ll let me know when I’m following your best for me. When it’s time for two imperfect people to come together as one. Preferably with a proposal where the ring is snuggled amongst 8 count nuggets from Chickfila.

Your child,

m