I had a late-night conversation with a friend recently about
relationships, but the conversation itself was over Facebook chat, so I suppose
it wasn’t as profound as it could have been.
It started with my ribbing her over an upcoming blind date, and ended
when she had to go to bed. Before
leaving, she quick asked me my “top five” things I would want in a potential
mate (freakin A, one of THOSE posts). It’s
hard to choose, but writing them down, I realized how much I’ve grown in the
past year. I had to quick consult the
list, yes there’s an actual list, and realizing I hadn’t updated it in 12
months I edited a few things before sharing them with her.
A year ago almost this week, I broke up with someone I had
been dating for a few months. At the time, it felt as
though I had given up on my only chance at a family someday, but I knew
ultimately I would rather be single than be in a dysfunctional marriage. This relationship was beyond hope. About a week later, I became sick. Very
sick. Almost to the point of needing a
transfusion, and it happened month. after month. Several excruciating and inconclusive tests
later, the anomaly was gone. 100% and without explanation. I know the prayers of my friends and family
were what did it, Christ healed me and I don’t know why. I was relieved, but ungrateful. In the aftermath
I was left with feeling like I had been emotionally abused by God. Like the hope of a family and a happy future
had been dangled in front of my eyes and then taken from me on all fronts and
then surprise! given back? Months later,
the rage at God is abated, and new fears have taken root to actually drive me
closer to him. Funny how that works, I
won’t deny my fickle depression. In all
of this, I’ve learned how much I’ve made an idol out of wanting a family
someday, and how more consciously than I’d like I’d started hoping my future
husband (I HATE that phrase) would fill the gaps of love in my experiences, and
show me what love can really be like. That's not a fair or healthy expectation to place on him. But then,
you know, sometimes it’s hard to conceive of a God who is truly loving to you personally
when you’re too weak to sit up on a couch.
I won’t bother you with my list, but I think the one thing I
do want most out of a man is fortitude.
I have a mousy demeanor, but I’m the mouse that roared. This past year’s struggle was the first time in
almost 10 years I had truly fallen to pieces, but somewhere along the paths of
my life God has given me the strength and wisdom to see how the pieces fit back together,
and why they broke in the first place. I
struggle with depression, and I want someone strong enough to weather that,
because I could be strong enough to weather his. I need someone who is secure enough in
himself to not be threatened when I pick up the power drill and do the damn job
myself, or perhaps I want someone who’ll see the need and pick up the drill
before I have a chance to.
After my experiences, I’ve been coming to terms with the
fact that I am not “owed” any sort of relationship at all. I must reconcile the bouts of profound
loneliness with the fact that God is everything I need, albeit I am too finite
and flawed to ever truly perceive or fully realize that until his return. I need
to learn to accept that with grace, which means not consigning myself to some
sort of emotional spinster-martyrdom.
Far easier said than done; I know I’m not the first Christian girl to
blog about “If Jesus is the only one I need, then why…” I haven’t accepted it yet, and probably never
will if I’m honest. It’s hard to have
grown up in an age where marriage was a given, only to come of age (and beyond)
in a world where it’s not. The waiting
game sucks. My life is happening now.
