It’s February 13 and we all know what’s two days away—25% off heart shaped candy at Target.
If you are a single girl who is:
spending this weekend with Netflix and your besties Ben and Jerry
currently downloading a dating app (yet again!) only to delete it in 5 minutes
TRYING NOT TO FREAK THE @#$% OUT BECAUSE YOU ARE [fill in the blank] YEARS OLD AND STILL ALONE
…then you need to hear this:
You are complete in Christ (Colossians 2:10)
You are not a puzzle with a missing piece, a sandwich of peanut butter looking for its jelly. You are whole in Christ, and Christ alone. No earthly person can complete a heart God created. Earthly love disappoints, heavenly Love fulfills
God doesn’t withhold any good thing from His children (Psalms 84:11)
Relationships and marriage are good things. But sometimes it may not be the best thing. Maybe He’s protecting you. Maybe He’s refining you. Maybe He has other things for you to be doing now that will glorify Him more than you being in a relationship.
You are more than your relationship status (1 John 3:1)
You are God’s child. That’s a title that will always trump “girlfriend” or “wife.” Remember who He says you are: loved, redeemed, free, sustained, empowered.
Remember your purpose: you are Jesus’ ambassador (2 Corinthians 5:20)
You are called to know God and make Him known. To become more like Jesus and show the hurting world a love like no other. The end goal of your life is not to get married. The end goal of your life is to become more like Jesus to a world that needs Him.
Upon turning 22, my friend declared that “22 is halfway to 44 which is halfway to 88 which means you are halfway dead.”
(We are clearly no longer friends.)
Birthdays are kind of like New Year’s—they make you reflect on where you’ve been and where you’re going. You’re another year older. And another year closer to 88.
On the day of my 28th birthday, I couldn’t help but compare myself to those I love and admire more than anyone else in the world: my parents. I think about where they were at 28. And at this age my mother was married for 6 years with a two-year-old and another on the way.
If my life was supposed to follow those breadcrumbs, the birds clearly had a 28-year feast and unknowingly I stumbled upon the long, scenic route up the side of a steep mountain.
While I would be blessed if I had even 1/100 of the character my mother has, my life has not followed her blueprint.
I ain’t my Momma.
Chatting with another single friend the other day, I decided expectations for young adults are like kitchen cleaners under the sink to little kids. It’s just not fair that the blue stuff that looks like a huge jug of blue raspberry Kool-Aid is locked away behind childproof cabinets—seemingly unattainable. But here’s the thing: turns out that stuff may not be the best for us anyway.
My life and the lives of my single friends are not the lives of our parents. But our lives aren’t wrong. They’re different.
I’m single. I’m living on my own. I’m pursuing my passion for writing. I’m really great at making cereal for dinner.
I can’t help but compare myself to those I love most—and I pray that I have even a fraction of the love, faith, and character that my parents do. But I know You have different plans for me than you had for my father and mother.