Rediscovering HERE

Posted by SingleLady in The Single Life | | 4 comments

“God, You have to help me.”

The rain pelted my windshield. I was struggling to see. Oncoming cars blasted their lights at me. I should have listened to the eye doctor and gotten that anti-glare thingie, I thought to myself. And I really need to change these wipers. I shivered, praying the car would warm up faster. At every Stop sign, I rubbed my palms together, trying to figure out which storage bin contained my warm clothes and gloves, and making a mental note to figure that out when I got home.

It was then that the déjà vu began to wash over me. I realized, more than I had in those past few weeks, that I was Here. So close to my twenty-somethng’th birthday, that one that is so close to thirty, and – shock on me – I was back in a place I thought I was finally leaving for good.

To the people who wrote the dictionary, here is an adverb, and it simply means “In this place; in this spot or locality.”

But to me, and I’m sure to every single woman, Here is a proper noun. It’s anything but simple. It is either that place that chronically refuses to leave you, or it is that familiar hole you find yourself struggling to climb out of after every relationship. Here is that season in life where women get to do things their fragile, delicate bodies were never created to handle – things like assembling bulky furniture.

Here, it’s almost impossible to have a decent conversation with a guy without him thinking you are shopping for a husband. The bold few say they are sure you are their wife, but then ask, “How come you’re single? You’re beautiful – are you a drama queen?”

It’s difficult to plug in at church. The Singles Ministry seems to have the sole goal of keeping you single for life. After all, you’re Single with a purpose, they say. Single but not alone. They invite you to conference after conference, and if you’re still there in your 40s, they will continue to invite you to attend and tell you that you are Single but whole. As if you ever disputed it. As if this is the issue.

“Are you married?” you’re asked, when you join the Women’s Ministry.
“No.”
“Seeing anyone?”
“No.”
“Well, I have a son…”

Ah! What would we do without those familiar lines:

I have a son.
I have a friend.
Your day will come.
Ohh… sorry! God will help you…

“Oh, you’re single,” many of us are told, with that knowing glance and nod, and the ever-so-slight, subconscious, step back. Cue the three-hour whine, people think.

Here can be quite a see-saw experience – from feeling Single and Blessed, to feeling lonely and grouchy and wondering how long the wait is going to be. You come across a picture of an ex and ask yourself, “What kind of issues did I have to ever date this guy?” but you cry hot tears because you did have some good times and you were not dating, but courting, with marriage as the goal.

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I decided to break up with Jed a month or so before I actually did it. I hesitated because I was scared. I knew in my knower that despite his confession of faith, this was an unequal yoke. I had started to feel that barrier in my prayers – the distance from the Lord; the knowing within myself that I was disobeying, and that my disobedience was more grievous with each day it progressed. I knew I had to do it, but two questions kept coming up in my mind. The first was, How did I ever end up here? And the second: How will I explain this to people?

I knew I had to do it. He deserved a visit, at the very least. But he was unavailable for a while, and procrastinating any further would just delay this. I did not want to change my mind. So I finally ended it. I was indifferent. I was not surprised that we were finally here. I think it is safe to say neither was he.

It’s not that Jed was a bad person. Romans 3:23 says we’re all bad, after all. He was not bad-looking at all. A little too short for my liking, but everything else made up for that.

I think it was the differences, and the onion layers. Discovery is a part of every relationship. But these discoveries were the kind that you are not supposed to make after a certain point in a relationship. The kind that make you wonder if you have any idea who this person is. The kind that have the potential to drive a woman into a depression because she thinks “Is this all my generation has to offer in the name of men?”

Then there were the warning bells. Loud sirens, gongs, clanging every single step of the way. “Nobody has to know,” he once whispered. “Just you and me – we don’t have to tell anyone.” Another time, he said something about me being “our future.”

And the conflicts: I laughed too freely with my male friends, he said. I flirted. Yet, I needed to get more friends. Diversify. I was not social enough.

I needed to get more sleep, because I was doing too much. But then I also needed to work harder and plan my day, because I was not getting enough accomplished.

“You’ve done so much, I’m proud of you,” but “Don’t think your achievements intimidate me.”

He was born again and loved the Lord, but then it was a “personal” thing that nobody needed to know about.

He did things that made me slightly uncomfortable. I couldn’t help but ask myself where they lay in the grand – eternal – scheme of life. What good will building an earthly dynasty with such rigor and commitment do for an eternal destiny where these things are counted as dung? Sometimes I thought maybe I was being too spiritual. Still, it was unsettling.

He heard me out as I explained why things could not go on. All he said was “Okay.”

A few hours after I ended it, he called me – drunk. Way to present another discovery. It was the goodbye gift that told me that I had done the right thing.

Thank God for new years. I think He gives them to us just so we can have a reason to wipe the slate clean. We are so much harder on ourselves than He is on us, and every time we go to Him in tears, genuinely asking for forgiveness, He is more than able to, and always does, give us a fresh start. For us, however, things are hardly ever as simple as repent and keep on moving. We often forget not to look at life with human eyes. Even on a brand new morning, that flesh that is so addicted to the pity-party, the resentment, the vindictive feelings, reminds itself that these eyes have opened in the same room they went to bed in; the words said yesterday still hurt, and most of all, that we are still single.

God knows, and I think that’s why He gave us time and that opportunity to not just flip the page over to a new month, but rather to unhinge the old calendar from the wall, dump it in the garbage, and hang a fresh new one that still has that bookstore smell.

I’ve reflected on my mistakes. I’ve seen where I went wrong – every relationship, and by extension every breakup, involves two people. I’ve also had to sit myself down and make a conscious decision to cut the phoniness.

I know I want to be married someday. Acting like I don’t will do nothing to help me get closer to becoming a wife. I believe single women have been unfairly judged and misunderstood in recent years. This should not be a surprise – we’ve increased in number because of a deliberate attempt to keep women in school longer, delay marriage as much as possible, and discourage those who are married from having children.

This new year, I find myself back Here, and I intend to make the most of it. I consider myself privileged to be able to come and share with you my experiences as a single woman in this space. I refuse to turn this column into a monthly pity-party. There is so much to do; there are so many opportunities to explore. I believe that I am one step closer to the man that God has for me. By His grace, I will make the most of this season. Here is about the mindset. Here is what I choose to make it. I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.

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