Today seems like any other ordinary day. Sure it’s like -13 degrees out and I’m sequestered to my little but lovely apartment, but it should be ordinary.
Only it’s Valentine’s Day.
And I’m single.
So people ask questions. Lots of questions. Well meaning and lovely and caring questions. But ultimately the undertone of living la vida loca, single life is this is not supposed to be an ordinary day for me.
I’m pretty confused about what today is supposed to mean to me. I think maybe I’m supposed to wear black and be angry and hate men and dance the night away, liberated by my glorious single, “I can do anything I want,” status. Or maybe I’m supposed to sit at home, crying, eating ice cream and watching The Vow while my dog watches me and pities me. Oooh scratch that. While my 7 cats watch me and pity me.
But I don’t really like cats. Or being angry for that matter.
There’s a tired story people keep telling about being single that says that I am incomplete without lifetime, marital, monogamous, forever love. The thing that I like about this story is that it sets that sort of love apart and recognizes it as beautiful and desirable. The part I don’t like about this story is every single other part of it.
This story sets me apart. From a lot of you. Really most of you. Because most of you feel like you have this sort of love.
And I don’t like that. Not because I don’t like you and your love.
But because I want to be with you. Connected to you. Doing life with you.
I want to sit with you and lounge around in the same pool of life. Not segregated to some weird pool where people only walk by to say “Oooh, that water looks gross. I’m so sorry that’s your only option.”
This happens, folks.
But if I want us to live life together, laughing and having deep conversations and feeling intimately connected, that means that people would start recognizing us, single or partnered off, as the same. Relatively.
If we’re going to move forward, together, post Valentine’s Day, it seems like maybe we need to realize that, really, we are all incomplete. Whether you have the intimacy of a loving partner or the intimacy of a loving turtle, we aren’t complete unless we have Jesus. We are left longing and cranky and living a roller coaster of life with crazy windblown hair and no one to help us comb it.
Jesus will help you comb it.
Or maybe what I mean is He’ll help you with whatever your burden is. And amidst taking that burden off your shoulders, putting his hand on your anxious heart and creating calm, Jesus will show you how loved you are. How beautiful you are. How adored you are. He is all of that. And while your partner (or turtle) is fabulous, they will never measure up to that sort of Love.
And that’s really tough sometimes, but so completely lovely once you feel it. And know it. And breathe it.
A friend asked me recently what it was about my walk with God that has led me here, going on the World Race and seemingly embracing a lot of scary things and leaving a lot of really beautiful things. I told him that it was both painstakingly simple and emotionally tough.
Each time I trust Jesus with something, I watch. And each time I watch, I see crazy, amazing, fill up my heart and make me cry, things unfold.
So why wouldn’t I want more of Him? Why wouldn’t I want to say ‘yes’?
This is just the next ‘yes.’
Here we go. Lets all be brave.
