My Good God Who Loves Me

About 3 weeks ago, I was home alone, and I was confronted with my deeply-seated, soul-ingrained desire for a husband. It wasn’t like my heart longed; it was like my soul ached, and I cried out to God with only groans.

For about 3 years, I’ve confronted all the ways and reasons I desire a man. I’ve written post after post after post, and they mostly follow the format: Desire – reason for desire – reason I’m believing a lie – truth – Gospel truth – Yay Jesus.

So on this particular day, I confronted my desire for a husband. I didn’t even know why I wanted one so badly; it took me a few minutes of talking to God to figure it out.

I finally realized, though, that I felt like my life wouldn’t begin until I had a husband.

Obviously, this is a lie. Obviously, I have a life (and a great one). But this lie was different; it refused to be covered up by slapping a few Gospel bumper-stickers on it or rooted up by throwing a couple of Bible verses at it. I deeply, deeply, for years – maybe even decades – had been believing this subtle lie that my life will begin when I’m married. It’s been embedded in the depths of my soul and woven into the fabric of my unconsciousness for as long as I can remember. So it took some major processing, praying, and digging to combat it with the truth. Read More

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My Recent Adulting

I turned 34 this week. Gosh, I love being in my 30’s. I threw myself a pizza party, baked and decorated myself a cake, bought “Happy Birthday” plates and pink stripey napkins, and invited adult friends over who gave me flowers as gifts. I love it all.

Most days, I even love being single in my 30’s. I have friends my age whose kids are in middle school now, and I wonder when they ever had time to figure out themselves. I have friends with 6 kids, friends with a divorce or two, and friends with incredible how-I-met-your-mother stories. When I look at their lives, I don’t know how they do it, and I’m just so glad that God has given me the life I have.

(I even found out this week that some of the little girls at church think Nicole and I are SO COOL for being independent women and roommates in our own cute little apartment. We are pretty cool, aren’t we?)

What I don’t love so much is the level of adulting required some days. When I was a kid, I thought being an adult was 90% fun and 10% work. And some days, it really is. But these past couple of months have required some serious adulting. At a couple of points, I even had to fight back the lie that I could have dealt with my problems better if I’d had a husband to help me out. Read More

My Roommate Life: Part 2

Photo credit: Noel Walker Photography

I’ve blogged a few times about how great my roommate is, and most people who know us have commented on how much we seem like a married couple. So I’ve been processing for a couple of months now how roommate-life is (and isn’t) like married life.

In Part 1, I talked about how having a close roommate is like having a spouse. And in Part 2 (this post), I’m talking about how it’s very much not like having a spouse.


When people first meet Nicole and me, they chuckle and make jokes about how we seem married. But when they really get to know us, it’s way obvious that we aren’t.

On the surface

Of course, there are the glaring differences between us and married couples. Obviously, we don’t have sex, children, a joint bank account, or the same room. We don’t know how much money the other makes, we lay claim to (some of the) food in the fridge, and we’re not on each other’s car insurance policies.

So there’s that, but there’s also the dynamic of us Read More

My Choice to be Single

I often, even on this blog, bemoan the fact that I’m single. I mean, there are good things about it, and I get to know Jesus in suffering and whatever. But it just occurred to me in the past couple of weeks (mostly because of a comment my dad made on a previous post – thanks, Dad) that I actually have chosen singleness. Do choose it. Am choosing it.

I kinda don’t like that. It’s easier to think of singleness as something that’s happening to me, something that has been chosen for me. I like to think that, if it were up to me, I would choose marriage and a family of my own. Yet, 33 years into this life, I have yet to make that choice.

For instance, when my best-ish guy friend asked me to be his girlfriend, I turned him down. More than once. When a guy I reconnected with after 10 years indicated that he might be interested in me as a future wife, I turned him down. Again. I’ve gone on dates only to firmly cut things off before the second date, and I’ve refused to give out my number to interested parties.

It’s not like this happens often. Read More

Just for Fun – A Letter to My Future Husband

To my future husband, on Jan 2, 2016:

I missed you today.

I took down Christmas decorations this evening with my roommate, and I packed them up after she left for work. Another year of un-decorating with a roommate, of taking down the lights that were only lit half the time because neither of us was home much. It was our fourth Christmas together, but I never thought I’d have four Christmases with the same roommate before I had four with a husband.

Afterward, I sat on the couch, watching reality television because there’s literally nothing left on my to-do list. It’s moments like these when I miss you the most – when I’m caught up on all my editing jobs and household chores and TV shows. When I’ve read more than my eyes can handle in one day and have some time left before I head to bed.

I finished my show, turned to the other end of the couch, and almost asked you if you were ready to hit the hay, when I realized you weren’t there. And I missed you.

I tried to distract myself for a moment, but I had to put down Facebook because there were too many happy couples and newborn babies, and it made me sad.

Over the past few years, I’ve been training myself to turn to Jesus instead of to wallowing when I feel sad.  I guess the training paid off tonight, because I talked to Jesus about you. “God, I miss my man tonight. I don’t know how it’s possible to miss someone I’ve never met, but I feel his absence.”

The truth, though, is that I do know how it’s possible to miss someone I’ve never met. Adam missed Eve before he knew she was even possible. I sometimes miss a particular sibling who was miscarried. I always miss heaven, especially now that I have loved ones there. Ultimately, all that missing leads me to look forward to the physical presence of my heavenly husband Jesus. Read More

My Limitless Pleasures

My roommate reminded me of a verse the other day:

In thy presence is fulness of joy; at thy right hand there are pleasures for evermore. Psalm 16:11b

On its surface, the verse looks like a happy-go-lucky, name-it-claim-it kind of verse. Everything is sunshine and rainbow unicorns if you trust God! La-dee-dee.

But she reminded me of the verse on a day when I was struggling with the pleasures that the world has to offer. It was a day when I was getting annoyed that I don’t get the pleasures that come along with marriage.

Besides the obvious wink-wink, nudge-nudge pleasures that come with marriage, I’m looking forward to heaps of things: being dropped off at the door while my man finds a place to park, waking up and snuggling for a few minutes until the alarm goes off, letting someone else take care of my car when it breaks down, writing love notes on the mirror, making out in the back of movie theaters, etc.

I’m not dumb – I know marriage is hard, because relationships are hard, and I enjoy not sharing a room. But that particular day this past week, discontentment with the lack of marital pleasures was underscoring my day. Read More

My Useless Worry

I used to worry.

I would worry about real stuff. One time, my roommate was getting married and moving out, and I worried myself almost sick about where I was going to move and who I was going to live with.

I would worry about fake stuff. When I was a kid, “To Be Continued” episodes would keep me up nights, worrying about the characters.

I would even make up stuff to worry about. My favorite “go-to” reason for worrying was the thought of my parents’ both dying at the same time, leaving me to fight the legal system so I could get custody of my underage siblings. And if I did get custody, then how would I support them? And would I be able to homeschool them? That hypothetical scenario could keep me going on worry for HOURS.

I worried, basically, whenever I wasn’t in control of a situation in which there was a questionable end. I worried because worry was my way of trying to maintain some sort of control. I even said to myself once, “If I don’t have worry, then what do I have?”

I think I’ve shared the story of my worry turning-point before on this blog. I worried and worried and worried Read More