DISCLAIMER: This is not meant in any way to self-market. It is simply a love manifesto to a man I don’t love. Yet.
Hi. There are a couple of things I’d like to say to you, and I probably won’t say any of them very succinctly, but if you’re marrying me, then you know I enjoy words. I hope you’ll enjoy them, too. When I was little, getting married was all about the wedding. In fact, I don’t think I ever really knew what came after that. I just wanted a day to be a princess and dance with the man who had promised he would try his very best to love me for the majority of my life. In recent years, when I think about our wedding, particularly because I don’t know who you are, I don’t have many concrete ideas. I want to get married in my parents’ backyard, if that’s okay with you. I want that in part because my Mama and Daddy got married in her parents’ front yard and they’ve been married for the better part of 40 years. I also want it because their backyard is beautiful (my dad spends many an hour taking immaculate care of it) and because I spent so many hours of my childhood out there reading, praying, thinking and playing. This is all negotiable, though, because our wedding day, while important, is not the most important day. And I’m writing to you about nearly everything but the wedding day.
I haven’t “wasted a lot” of my time outwardly. I didn’t date much in college, and when I did, it was always with the preface of “if you’re not dating me with the intention of pursuing marriage, we’re pretty much done here.” I’m about to turn 24 and I still haven’t kissed anyone. I’m not really ashamed to admit that on the internet (even though I know it’s immortal) because Jesus never kissed anyone either (at least not on the lips), to my knowledge; since he’s the basis of our whole lives, I figure you’re okay with that and not intimidated or weirded out by it.
College was odd. My freshman year, I went through this phase where I was obsessed with godly marriage and what it looked like, so I listened to, like, a million Mark Driscoll sermons about being submissive, quiet spirited, and servant-hearted. After that, I got massively depressed because I didn’t resemble those things all that much and decided I would probably be single forever (if you chose to propose to me, you’ll know I’m often a woman of extremes). The decision to be single forever arrived after a few reads through Elisabeth Elliot’s ‘Passion and Purity.’ That vision got derailed when I started dating my first and only serious boyfriend, because I always assumed if I was selective enough in choosing a boyfriend, he’d end up being my husband. Rookie mistake.
Remember when I mentioned I didn’t waste a lot of time outwardly? Yeah, still stands. I didn’t. Inwardly, I’m sorry to say, was a different story. My college years are marked by giant crushes on guys who ended up not really being interested in me, only being interested in me for conversation, or were just kind of knuckleheads. None of these ever materialized into an actual relationship, fortunately, so I was left with very few heart-scars and lots of fun, angsty, girly songs. My roommates (whom I’m sure at this point, you know and love) coached me through learning to not give all of my devotion and attention to these guys who were never really adamant about pursuing me. To be fair, I have ‘liked’ some godly guys. Many of them are scholars or musicians or good citizens who use their gifts to glorify God, and that’s awesome. I don’t harbor any hard feelings toward them. I just wasn’t their wife, and I get that.
Anyway, I feel like I’m rambling. All of this seems vital and necessary to tell, so I’m just putting it out there. There are several things I want to apologize to you for:
1.) I’m sorry for feeling as though marriage is this urgent thing and if we don’t get married by a certain age, I will crumble and die and never give you any children. Okay, yeah, that was a little dramatic, but you get me. This idea is perpetuated in part by being Southern, in part by that time I worked at David’s Bridal and had 18 year old clients on the reg, and in part by being friends with amazing, godly women who get scooped up and wifed pretty frequently. Instead of being all Ariel about it (read: “When’s it my turn?” You know, from ‘Part of Your World’) I should have been trusting that God would bring you into my life when we were ready to be partners in faithfully preaching the gospel to each other (and to the nation(s)).
2.) Love, I have always been excited to share my life with you. I think early on in my life, and for a long time, you were an idol. I’m sorry it took so long for me to rightly align you. Love, you are second. Jesus is first. I know you’re okay with this. And I am too, now.
3.) I’m sorry for the times I won’t handle your godly guidance and advice well. I know you value feedback as much as I do. I hope it’s something we institute in our dating life and in our marriage. It provides a platform to gracefully direct each other to the truths of the Bible and the heart of Jesus. That being said, sometimes I still freeze up initially when my teammates give me constructive feedback. It will be a lifelong journey of allowing you into the not-so-great places in my heart so that you can lovingly expose my non-Christlike behavior and point me to my Savior. I hope you will allow me the same honor with your heart.
4.) I’m sorry for the instances when I try to be a leader instead of letting you do what you were created to do. I had been leading myself for a little while when I met Jesus. And then, BAM, he’s all, “Let me lead you,” and most of the time I try to allow that, but sometimes it looks a lot like practical behavior as a Christian woman that I’m just not quite a pro at yet (i.e. submission and trust).
5.) K, so, this is really hard for me to type. Whew. Deep breath. Here we go: I feel like the enemy is very specific in the way he attacks women. There are many days when I feel like I am way too much and not enough simultaneously. These feelings are somewhat valid because no one is ever enough by God’s standard, except for Jesus. There will be days you’ll have to pray over me and remind me that the reason I am “enough” is because Jesus IS my righteousness. And if I really am being too much, find a way to tell me with gentleness because those words have often been a blow to my self-esteem (when it isn’t rooted in Christ).
6.) I’m just covering the bases with this one, but I’m sorry if you don’t like any of the songs I wrote about you in college, or on the Race, or whenever. But please tell me the truth about them (lovingly). It’ll be like that one time I wrote Mom and Dad a song and they didn’t enjoy or like it until they heard it with guitar.
My hope is that just as I’ve had the Race to think and process, grow and mature, you will have been afforded a similar experience. I hope there are godly men in your life who speak and pray truth over you frequently. I hope there are people who love you well and that you’re surrounded by a community of believers and nonbelievers alike. I hope you have been around a wealth of happy marriages in which both partners have placed their ultimate hope and joy in the gospel. I’m for you. Always.
Love,
Sarah
