Being single (part two)
After re-reading and discussing my previous “single” post with several people, I realized that I left out something important - my own feelings and struggles as a single person. My post carries a somewhat detached and intellectual perspective, and it suggests that I have understood everything I wrote for quite some time, or at least that I’ve got it figured out now. Nothing could be further from the truth. I wrote those words to articulate where I want to be, what I wish were true in my life, and to remind myself what I’m fighting for. I’m not there yet, but I’m going to fake it until I make it. I want to use this post in a more personal way to describe my struggles and the journey that has brought me to where I am today.
Allow me to begin with a proposition: I am not incomplete because I am single. When I feel incomplete, it is because I have not entrusted everything to God and found my completion in him. When I feel incomplete, it is because I have forgotten who and whose I am. There are elements of my being which my wife will be able to perfect and complete in a unique way, but ultimately only God can fulfill the deepest longing of my heart. Trying to fill that hole with a romantic relationship invites disaster.
As a consequence, I believe that God is waiting for me to be complete in him before he blesses me with a romantic relationship. He is waiting for me to trust him completely before he entrusts me with a woman’s heart. When I’ve learned to love him more than anything else, then he can give me someone to love more than anyone else. Once I’m content with God’s plan - even if it means never being married - then God can put the plan in motion. What makes it hard is that I can’t game the system. Trying to become complete in God so I can move on and get the girl is as useless and self-defeating as boasting about my humility. I have to want God without wanting anything else, and I have to trust him without any condition that his plans match mine.
During my senior year of college, I was actually in this place of trust, or at least close. I had made a conscious decision to keep my head out of the dating game, because I had schoolwork to focus on and knew that I would soon be moving somewhere undetermined and far away. I’d be lying to say that I never thought about girls, but I could say honestly that God had a plan that was better than mine, and I was content to remain single until that plan came to fruition. But that summer, I met a girl who was completely amazing, and who actually seemed to like me. Somehow I gathered the courage to tell her I liked her.
Suddenly, my mind began to deal with a flood of new thoughts. Some were good and important: What is it that I like about this woman? What do we have in common? Some were part of evaluating where our relationship was going: Where are we each going to be in a year, or two, or three? What would it be like to live with her… for the rest of my life? And some thoughts, I’ll admit, were not so noble.
At the end of the summer, we went our separate ways. Constrained by our geographic locations and our respective commitments to work and school, our relationship continued only a few months, and soon we were again “just friends”. However, the patterns of thought persisted. What would it be like to be married? Where would we live? What would we do together? As the particulars of the relationship faded into the past, she was replaced by a unknown faceless woman, an unknown woman I was very anxious to discover. I don’t want to know how much time I spent on daydreams about the future. I had allowed what were once a set of productive and valuable thoughts to become a sinful habit, and I trudged on in that state of mind for a year.
God has been chipping away at those thoughts, slowly bending twisted neurons back into place. For my part, I’ve been rather fickle. Depending on the day, week, or hour, I oscillate from raging against my thoughts and praying for God’s help, to wallowing in sinful daydreams once again. At the same time, new challenges are storming in. For the first time in my life, I have a plan that looks forward for several years, along with a steady source of income. The line I used to quiet myself with - “Steven, that’s ten years away. Be patient.” - may not be true anymore. Suddenly the thoughts about the future don’t seem so far away, and they might even have a bearing on the things I do tomorrow.
So what now? I’d like to draw on three pieces of wisdom, one from Scripture, one from a song, and one from my parents.
In his first letter to Timothy, Paul writes, “Treat younger men as brothers, older women as mothers, and younger women as sisters, with absolute purity.” This passage cuts straight to my core, if for no other reason than the fact that Timothy was a single young man, probably about my age. Have I treated the young women around me “as sisters, with absolute purity”? With my hands, yes, thankfully. With my words, I think so. With my thoughts? Yikes, no, not at all. Too often I have treated younger women as prospects, with only as much purity as my mind could muster. Paul’s words are concise, convicting, and concrete. I have a standard to live up to.
Second, the song:
Danny and I
spent another late night over pancakes
talkin’ ‘bout soccer
and how every man’s just the same.
We made speculation
on the “who”s and the “when”s of our futures
And how everyone’s lonely,
but still we just couldn’t complain.And how we just hate being alone;
Could I have missed my only chance?
And now I’m just wasting my time,
by lookin’ around?But ya know I know better;
I’m not gonna worry ‘bout nothin’.
Cause if the birds and the flowers survive,
then I’ll make it okay.
I’m given a chance and a rock;
see which one breaks a window,
see which one keeps me up all night and into the day.Because I’m so scared of being alone,
that I forget what house I live in.
And it’s not my job to wait by the phone
for her to call.
God feeds the birds and clothes the flowers in spendor, and not one falls without his knowledge. How much more will he care for me? Yes, he has even brought me into his house. Is that not enough?
And third, a byte from my parents: The antidote for self-pity is self sacrifice. That is, the best way to forget myself and my loneliness is to give of myself and serve others. Not coincidentally, I think that’s what God wants, too.
And so we come full circle. Being single is a gift no less valuable than my health, my intellect, my physical abilities, or my education. It’s a special opportunity to be used in service to others. To spend my time thinking about what could be is to ignore the overflowing bounty of what is. Being discontent because I don’t have a girlfriend or wife is as ridiculous as a child turning up his nose at the mile-high apple pie and ice cream because he wanted cake instead. So let’s cut the pie, shall we?
