Making Sense of My Story

I always find it somewhat annoying when a well-intentioned married person tells me their spouse/marriage story in such a way that implies there is something I just need to do (or stop doing) and then I’ll get married. ”Just stop looking.  That’s when you’ll find it.  That’s what happened to me.”  ”Just have fun!” “Once I put myself out there…” or “Once I decided to take a step back from dating…”

As if there is some magical action I need to take or magical thought I need to think, and then my story will make as much sense as theirs.  It’s not that I don’t like their story.  It’s that they tell it with such ease and it inevitably concludes with a happy ending.   They seem to be saying that when they reflect on their singleness, everything now makes sense in context of how it directed them to or prepared them for their eventual spouse.  All the other relationships and seasons of spiritual growth and ordained timing added up to a good spouse.

And I just find this all a bit odd.  I mean, I look back on my singleness thus far and see almost nothing that makes sense.  I see relational missteps, hours of counseling, way too many dating advice books, trying not to be angry at weddings, some really tragic dating stories, some really great dating stories, painful and less-painful breakups, regret, longing, cyclical disappointment and severe growth at the cost of my hoped-for life.  And none of this has led me to a spouse…so is my story somehow permanently less valid?

I think there are several lies inherent in this line of storytelling and in my reaction:

Lie: Our primary story is the story of how we meet our spouse.  Nope.  The spouse story might be a chapter in the broader story, but it’s not the point.  Our primary story is really Easter morning: that God himself bridged the chasm with sinful humanity, suffered in our place, conquered death and rose to live for us, with us, in us.  That He has redeemed us, is sanctifying us, and is coming back for us.  My story is not really about me – it’s about Him.

Lie: Because I can’t put the pieces together of my strange life, my story is not worth telling.  I often feel like I’m waiting to tell my singleness story when it makes sense.  Currently, it makes zero sense. I mean, who in their right mind wants to admit to being almost 40, pursuing purity, single, longing for marriage, and all in a public forum?  Oh right. Apparently me.  I take comfort from Jesus instructing the demon-possessed man in the Gerasenes (whose story probably didn’t make sense either): “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you.”  Our stories don’t have to make sense to us to reflect God’s provision and grace to us.

Lie: We know where the story goes from here.  Like most chick flicks, couples often stop telling their “story” at their wedding day.  The reality (married folks, correct me here if I’m mistaken) is that on their wedding day, they had no idea what they were getting into with the whole marriage business.  Even good married life is full of unmet expectations, suffering, longing, and frustration at circumstances which one wishes could be changed.  Which sounds oddly a lot like singleness.

It’s easy for me to tell myself that I know where this life goes next (“I will now become the unmarried sister who is too career-oriented.  Next I will be the unexplainably single aunt for my nieces and nephew. Lastly, I will become that lady with too many houseplants, cats and a Netflix queue full of PBS.  Great!  I can’t wait.”)  The truth is that I have no idea what my singleness holds any more than a couple on their wedding day knows what their marriage will hold.

Letting God write a bigger story for me means I don’t know what will happen and it will probably not make sense for most of the time.  But that puts me exactly where I need to be: trusting God anew.

By His Grace,
Elaina

Longings after God

My dear Lord, I can but tell Thee that Thou knowest I long for nothing but Thyself, nothing but holiness, nothing but union with Thy will. Thou hast given me these desires, and thou alone canst give me the thing desired. My soul longs for communion with Thee, for mortification of indwelling corruption, especially spiritual pride. How precious it is to have a tender sense and clear apprehension of the mystery of godliness, of true holiness! What a blessedness to be like Thee as much as it is possible for a creature to be like its creator! Lord, give me more of Thy likeness; enlarge my soul to contain fullness of holiness; engage me to live more for Thee. Help me to be less pleased with my spiritual experiences, and when I feel at ease after sweet communings, teach me it is far too little I know and do. Blessed Lord, let me climb up near to Thee, and love, and long, and plead, and wrestle with Thee, and pant for deliverance from the body of sin, for my heart is wandering and lifeless, and my soul mourns to think it should ever lose sight of its beloved. Wrap my life in divine love, and keep me ever desiring Thee, always humble and resigned to Thy will, more fixed on Thyself, that I may be more fitted for doing and-suffering.

Taken from The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions




The Deeps

Lord Jesus, give me a deeper repentance, a horror of sin, a dread of its approach. Help me chastely to flee it and jealously to resolve that my heart shall be Thine alone.

Give me a deeper trust, that I may lose myself to find myself in Thee, the ground of my rest, the spring of my being. Give me a deeper knowledge of Thyself as saviour, master, lord, and king. Give me deeper power in private prayer, more sweetness in Thy Word, more steadfast grip on its truth. Give me deeper holiness in speech, thought, action, and let me not seek moral virtue apart from Thee.

Plough deep in me, great Lord, heavenly husbandman, that my being may be a tilled field, the roots of grace spreading far and wide, until Thou alone art seen in me, Thy beauty golden like summer harvest, Thy fruitfulness as autumn plenty.

I have no master but Thee, no law but Thy will, no delight but Thyself, no wealth but that Thou givest, no good but that Thou blessest, no peace but that Thou bestowest. I am nothing but that Thou makest me. I have nothing but that I receive from Thee. I can be nothing but that grace adorns me. Quarry me deep, dear Lord, and then fill me to overflowing with living water.

Taken from The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers & Devotions



Expectantly Waiting

I often describe my singleness as the prism by which God
has focused His work in my heart — it wasn’t the singleness itself that was painful, but it shone light on deep expectations and thoughts and desires that I couldn’t and didn’t want to face. Some of the desires were good and some were downright ugly, but that’s where God starts working. I’m not even sure when it happened — but through Scripture, through godly friendships with other women, through faithful preaching at good churches, God helped me see what had been true about Him the entire time:

• He loves me. Not conceptually or theoretically or sometimes, but
actually and tangibly and forever.

• He has this under control. I have nothing to fear from singleness or
marriage. He isn’t surprised by any turn of events, and He isn’t
thwarted from pursuing His purposes. He is not boxed in by cultural
trends or my circumstances or statistics.

• Waiting with expectant hope is part of His plan. As a single woman, I know this reality far too well and sometimes I think I am the only one waiting. But as Christians, we are all waiting — even creation is waiting with us — for the ultimate freeing and “setting right” that will only happen when Jesus returns. If singleness is His tool to teach me to wait more patiently, graciously and expectantly, than so be it. Needless to say, that is enough to make any heart sing — but especially one that used to secretly fear it would never really be loved! When I am already loved so deeply, I don’t need to grasp for every snippet of earthly love to make up the gap in my heart. When I don’t have to be afraid of the future, I don’t have to try to control it. And, by God’s grace I am not the same woman I was prior to my conversion in 2007.

Sayonara Feris Wheel...

Lately, I’ve been thinking about how feeble my heart is, how it gets easily addicted to whatever comes along. Despite many chats with my Jenny Craig consultant a few years back, sometimes I really think that a handful of chocolate chips is what I need to satisfy my boredom and loneliness. When food fails to quench my restless spirit, I’ll reign in that desire, and turn instead to the internet. Surely, Facebook, Twitter and eHarmony will do the trick. Next up, caffeine, romantic comedies, or any number of other distractions. It’s like a giant Ferris wheel at the amusement park, but instead of being staffed by some bored teenager, it’s staffed by the enemy of my soul, promising satisfaction in each car. I happily jump into whichever one is available when the Ferris wheel stops.


When, O feeble heart, when will you turn to what really satisfies? When I’m feeling lonely or unloved or bored, why don’t I pray, and ask the God of the universe, who created my soul, to fill it up with what it truly needs, reminders of His love and goodness and provision?


This is when my built in alarm system (the Holy Spirit) starts screaming out…..GET IN THE WORD & PRAY!


The more I am in the Word the more aware I become of the rides we take on these Ferris wheels in life. In John 6:68, Peter says to Jesus, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” But instead we settle for a trip in a complete circle, with a Slurpee in one hand and pink cotton candy in the other. We need to allow the Holy Spirit to give us a taste of what really satisfies. Several years of weekly time spent being in the Word and prayer have helped me be sensitive to His leading in this area. It's little by little. Day by day.


Mostly, I've been humbled by what God is doing in my own heart, by asking me to surrender my petty desires and let Him fill me up. He hears my prayers. Regardless of whether I ever get married, God wants ALL of ME

Finding Rest

“The beloved of the Lord rests in safety. The High God surrounds him all day long. The beloved rests between His shoulders.” Deuteronomy 33:12

 The things we face in this life are painful and unpredictable. In this month alone I’ve watched a dear friend’s Father unexpectedly wisked to a hospital and then settled in a Rehab after discovering mercer was found in a would from a previous surgery on his foot months earlier, my own mother put on anti-biotics because of an infected pimple on her leg, walked through a serious crisis scare with a friend from work who's boyfriend is suffering with liver issues, and feared that (as a single 37 year-old) I’ll continue facing these types of difficulties without a partner as the years pass. I know those of you reading this are in the midst of your own challenges and pain, perhaps wondering how to find rest on God’s shoulders. Here are a couple of things that have helped me recently on this journey:


1) Our job is to stay in the ‘here and now’: In Jesus’ words, “Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own”. (Matthew 6:34). By doing what we can to stay present we have more space to invite Jesus in when things fall apart.

 2) We are to practice radical trust and dependence: Resting securely involves trust. To really rest involves letting down our guard and believing that whomever’s in charge knows what they’re doing. Before we can rest on God’s shoulders, we need to internalize that He is for us, and always, always has our best interest at heart.


Easier said than done, yes. But each tiny step we make towards growing our ability to stay present and mindful, as well as risking in trust, also grows our chance to experience God as the safe harbor He is. And I don’t know what better way to face the storms and tempests of life than by finding rest in the God of the universe.



Many blessings,
Elaina

Change, Honesty and the Gospel

So I have known for quite a while that 2012 would be full of change.....I knew my daughter would be turning double digits (10 years old in October), she'd be finishing 3rd grade, and my office at work will be moving to a new building in December. I truly thought by now in my life that I would be remarried, perhaps with another child and be staying at home. Today as I was driving home from church, the stress surfaced in unbidden tears and honest questions and simple prayers about life, my future, my purpose….and about His plan, His goodness, His love. As I drove (occasionally hitting the steering wheel for emphasis and trying to find that stash of Chipotle napkins to wipe my eyes), I felt like everything I was saying got summed up in three adjectives:

 Lord, I feel alone. I feel afraid. I feel ashamed.



Yep. And my grand plan had been to get married again and kill those three birds with one stone. (Ideally an obnoxiously large, cushion-cut diamond-type of stone….but I digress.) A husband would prove I’m not alone, I have someone to protect me, and I don’t have to be ashamed of failing at life because no one picked me to be on their marriage team.



Somehow, I think this is a microcosm of the Gospel. All humanity since the Garden of Eden (get the whole story from Genesis 3), has been separated from God, afraid of being seen by God, and ashamed of our brokenness. That we search for anything and everything (marriage, perchance?) to feel unalone, unafraid and unashamed, and yet never find anything to truly satisfy.


That in Jesus Christ, God sends us His very own son, Emmanuel (God with us). That Emmanuel lives a life of perfect grace and truth, and then dies a brutal death for all our fear, all our hiding, and all our shame. That more importantly, on Easter morning, all the price was paid for the rest of time and eternity. That I can be ransomed, forgiven and adopted into a true relationship in which I am not alone, in which I do not have to fear, in which my shame has already been addressed and buried.

So if any of those adjectives also apply to you this Monday, take a moment to sink deeply into the truth of His gospel — We are not alone. We do not have to fear. Our shame was handled at the cross. So tears may still come unbidden, and learning to live fearlessly, unashamedly with Emmanuel is a long process, but we can be confident that He who began a good work in us will carry it on to completion. Even in the face of moving to a new office, Maddy turning 10, still being single, and crying in my car.

 In His Grace,
Elaina