If myself from three years ago were to see me now, she’d be hootin’ and hollerin’ “Congratulations, you’ve made it! You’re living your dream!“
And I am. I’m happy, getting to live a life of filled with freedom, people, and Jesus.
So far, most of my life’s wildest dreams have come true and God just continues to blow my mind with how He’s dreaming alongside me.
I couldn’t have written it out better myself: If I had had it my way, I would currently be working in a hospital or office, stuck in a toxic relationship, and wondering when I was ever going to make something of my dreams.
Instead, I’m getting to actually live them out: I’m traveling the world for two years in a row, discipling others, serving as a missionary for my Savior, and getting to move to my favorite country in the world. How could I be any happier?
But in total honesty, I’m bitter because my biggest dream has yet to come true.
I want to be married more than anything else. I want a husband more than I want Jesus.
Woof. I said it.
As the balloon of anxiety inside my chest deflates, I can’t believe I actually wrote that somewhere other than the private lines inside my journal. It hurts to admit that.
Don’t get me wrong — I am beyond thankful for the life God has given me. I am well aware of how rare this lifestyle can be and I don’t take a moment for granted. But at the end of the day, I’m still a flawed human being who just really wants to love someone and be loved in return.
After all the breakthroughs, trials, and victories, I wish I could stand here and say I’m 100% content with it just being me and Jesus for the rest of my life.
But I can’t. Not yet.
I’m someone who relies heavily on the physical; on what’s in front of me; on what I can experience with my five senses. And the hardest part of my relationship with Christ is that I can’t reach out and touch Him; I can’t see His face; I can’t feel His hugs.
I know He is there, but I want to feel it.
So I whine and bargain with God over and over to please bring me that man who will be standing in the garden with us, but it just hasn’t happened yet.
There are a lot of times my prayers are sad. When will I meet him? Why do I keep getting heartbroken? When will I ever be chosen?
Sometimes I do actually practice patience. I get it, God. You’re a selfish Lord who wants me. I trust you.
And sometimes I’m just flat out pissed and confused. Why do you keep taking me away? How can I find a man if you keep moving me around? Don’t I deserve this?
Recently I’ve called out to Him asking where He was when I needed Him most and why is this the one area I haven’t seen come to fruition. My sinful flesh loves to throw tantrums from time to time.
Yet Jesus is so sweet, so gentle. He understands and hears my cries; He showed me where He was in everything.
He’s cradled me in between sobs on the bathroom floor. He sat outside the car while I was a lonely teenager. He held back my striking fists the times I only saw red. His chest was what I laid on as I rolled over after seeing a text come in from another girl. He showed me our dance as His bride.
So I’ve been praying and begging Jesus to become the lover of my soul. I’ve asked Him to show me how I can view Him with the same kind of passion and unending love as I hope to view my groom. I’ve asked Him to fill me with trust that this life of mobility will actually lead me to who He has; that I can remain faithful through it all and truly be content with or without a man. And that knowing is just as good as feeling.
Yes, I do want to be married more than anything in the world, but more importantly I know God is faithful, and for now, that is all I need. The rest will come.
