“So are you dating anyone?” A family member asked, with just
enough smile to make me wonder if they was altogether naïve of the audacity of the
question.
“No.” I said, a little taken a back and trying to awkwardly
move on. This person had asked what was going on with my life. I do have a good
relationship with them, and I adore them, actually, and they happen to be one of those people in my life that I’ve often felt “gets it.”
Maybe that’s why the question stung a little more than usual.
I was telling this family member about law school, my study abroad in Rome,
my hopeful internship overseas, all of these things that were exciting to me
and I was answering the question of what was going on in my life very honestly
and openly. And then they cut me off with that question—
It’s confusing. I don’t get it. Why is that so relevant to the
rest of my life? The question just seemed so ad hoc, but why?
I am fully cognizant of the fact that I’m turning 32 in
February and I’ve never been in a relationship. That fact is never lost on me,
thank you very much. I’m also more okay with it than I’ve ever been. But let me
tell you, that has been a journey. So
as I write, please let me preface with my heart as best as I can: I am to the
point right now where I am so grateful that God has intervene so repeatedly in
my life so as to protect me from one or more episodic unhealthy relationships
so as to have kept me in a place where I could channel my emotions, time, and
all I am into following Him and taking my ranks in helping His Kingdom to come
and His Will to be done. This point I’ve
reached, though, is a process, not a final destination. Actually, this “point”
could change as soon as tomorrow based on how well I choose to do the necessary
spiritual maintenance, and to keep my mind in the economy of God and not just
give in to what the world around me tells me about my relationship status.
So, that said, I’m not writing to try and convince myself to
be okay with where I’m at (at least, not today), I’m writing because I’m sick
of having to mentally, emotionally and spiritually defend where I’m at while
getting less help from the God-fearing community around me than I should.
“Godliness with contentment is great
gain,”* not “godliness with significant-other relationship is great gain.”
Now, I get where my family member was coming from. They love me, they knows that I’d rather not spend my life alone…blah, blah, blah. But I hope they don’t doubt whether or not I’m content
where I’m at because—thank you Jesus—I finally am. And when such a
question is asked, it reminds me of this huge looming thing in my life over which I do
not have control. And it makes me question the merit of my contentedness and
sends me back (however momentarily) into the emotional and mental gymnastics of
remembering that everyone’s story is different and mine just happens to look very different from my family’s….the
rhetoric goes on. I’m an Olympic athlete in this arena by now, believe me.
I just don’t understand why such a question is a good idea.
If you have a good relationship with me, and ask me what’s going on in my life,
I’m going to tell you if I’m “seeing someone.” If I don’t mention it, it’s not
because I’m hiding it. It’s because it’s not a part of my life at the moment.
So whatever else I’m telling you about, it’s what God’s got brewing in my life
and I’m probably excited about it! Why derail that story?
I remember being at my brother’s wedding when a family
friend was chatting with me and then straight out listed all of my siblings who
were married/getting married that very day and then asked when I was getting
married. What?!
God has been faithful to keep me from aforementioned
episodic unhealthy relationships, but I’m also not in control of when Mr.
Whoever enters the plotline of my life.
Not to be a lawyer, but please humor me in a (admittedly
lawyer-y) game of “change the facts.” What if I were married for several years
now to Mr. Whatever and we still hadn’t had children. What if, unbeknownst to
anyone there were major issues of infertility that we were dealing with and
someone came up and listed all of the newly born children in my extended family
and then asked when I was going to do my part?
And/or, presuming these same circumstances, what if I hadn’t
seen this particular family member in months and when we do finally reunite and we start catching up on life
and they ask me if I’m pregnant yet?
I think under these facts it’s easier to understand the
rudeness and uncouth of such a line of questioning. But more than that, it
would also be incredibly hurtful. But
why does it seem to be more socially acceptable to ask about relationship
status? Especially in the Church?
Don’t get me wrong. I’m a fan of marriage. I get the amazing
metaphor and context that it means and provides in a relationship with God and
I have seen the manifold blessings that it brings to so many people I love. I
would never disparage the institution, it’s one of God’s favorite things.
But this is what I get sick of fighting against:
1.
The often unspoken but often apparent mentality
that it’s just so weird that I’m single because I have A, B, C, D (insert what
you will)…going for me.
2.
The idea that marriage (or even a
“relationship”) just “happens” and sometimes you have to make it happen.
3.
I am missing out on the real blessing in life and “I just hope God brings you to that
someday.”
4.
The paradigm that marriage is the pinnacle of
the Christian life.
Now, please do not read bitterness into this. True, godly
contentment has no room for bitterness. Also, most of those above bullet points
you’ll never hear anyone in the church actually say. (MOST of the time.) Paul is so, SO clear on singleness in the
New Testament. He unequivocally declares it to be a good and even desirable thing. Therefore, most Christians will pay
due lip service to that, though most of them would never want it for
themselves. I mean, I get that, most of us didn’t set out wanting that either.
But once this is a reality for my life, shouldn’t the Church
and my Brothers and Sisters be the first to be excited for me with all God is
doing in my life and not the first to ask about my relationship/marital plans?
Shouldn’t the Church be the first place where I can go to find out how God
wants and can use me to my maximum capacity not just in spite of my lack of
relationship status but precisely because of it? Shouldn't the Church be the first place to encourage me to be content and to USE where I'm at instead of opting to symptomatically deal with the situation by "praying for a mate for ____" or even facilitating relationships when they might not be what's best? (NOTE: I AM NOT SAYING THAT YOU SHOULDN'T MEET ANYONE AT CHURCH)
Because let me tell you, it really hasn’t been. I’ve been
blessed to have a (remarkably blessèd) few people in my life that have
invested in me and modelled this contentedness to me, but by and large I have
had to put in (both literally and figuratively) the blood, sweat, and tears to
be secure and content with being by myself.
And you know what I’ve learned? I’ve learned that the idea
that I’m “single” and “by myself” is actually a misnomer. I’m never by myself.
And I’m way more conscious of that than I think I (with my personality) could ever
have been had I married young. My relationship with God is what it is precisely
because I’m not married. I know that
is not everyone’s story and I know that that is not a principle for everyone’s
life (please do not hear that), but I am saying that for me I have needed to
remain single for these (almost) 32 years of my life to really get to the
bottom of me. And I’m SO GLAD He’s made that happen!
Now I realize by no means did this person in my family mean to infer all of
the paradigms that I have been talking about here. I have no doubt that they meant the best for me in posing that question. But I do wonder if we as
Christians continue to allow our view of what God is doing in lives and
situations to get broader and broader and deeper and deeper, would these
questions begin to disappear? Would relationship status because to become less
of a fixture in conversation and more of a factor?
I think so. I’ve seen this in some married people around me,
in my conversations with them. Marriage is a thing, it’s amazing, and God loves
it. But it doesn’t define them. Just like single, thank God, doesn’t define me.
Why is it that we gloss over this thing called single? Why
is it that the Church tends to see it as a place holder, a waiting period? I
know it’s “different,” and I also know that it may not be forever--I’ll even
say that I do hope it’s not forever. But for as long as it is where I am, I
pray that I will not just tolerate but LOVE it and I will know God better for
it. I’m not waiting for anything but Him.
Because isn’t THAT what life is about anyway?
