A Road Less Travelled

A while ago I wrote a post about telling vomit stories, but in the post I mentioned how I was annoyed that everything in my life seems to revolve around being single as if my marital status was a strange, bright sun. I think I’ve got a bead on why I’m in this orbit. Simply put, in my eyes being single is a negative and not a positive. And I don’t mean in terms of good thing versus bad thing. I mean plus thing versus minus thing.

If you are married then you’re married. If you’re single then you’re not married. In my head I don’t think of myself as ’single’. I think of myself as ‘not married’. As soon as I figured this out (or rather had it pointed out) then it made perfect sense why my world revolves around this fact. It is easy to build your life around what you are not. If you see yourself primarily in terms of what you are not then that’s what you build your life around.

I think very comparatively. I am a outgoing person, an extrovert, for better or worse I am a people person. So I tend to think of myself in terms of other people. The first time I started thinking I might be good at writing is when I, in all charity, noticed I was better than someone else. Most of my gifts and abilities involve communication and other people. Well, the bulk of the other people around me are married. They are first Christians and then they are married. We have the first thing in common, but as soon as I get to the very next thing there is difference between us. I am in a serious minority and I know it. All of my siblings are married, most of my friends are married. I have a few single friends, but I think one of the first ties forged with each of these friends is the hope that we could all be single together. My social circle revolves around married people and families.

I recently read a book called Quest For the High Places by Natalie Nyquist. Actually I read it twice. It was a very helpful book and I would recommend it. What might have been the most helpful thought was actually almost a throw away sentence. The sentence went something like “It is very hard to be single in a married world.” This was the first time I’d noticed how very married my world is. I am surrounded by married people who want other people to be happy like they are. I walk in a world that values marriage and assumes that most people will get married. It is the next step in my life according to all I’ve read, seen, heard, thought. I haven’t taken that step yet so I can’t join the majority elite. I am less in this world I live in. Being single doesn’t mean I am something; it means I’m not.

And it doesn’t help that I really want to get married. I mean, it easy to blow off feeling excluded if you don’t really care. It’s not that big of a deal to be denied entrance into the Cod Liver Oil Every Day Club. It might actually be something of a relief. But I want to get married. I want to join all the people who are normal in our circle. I want to stop being a ‘not’.

I think at this point the thing I need to change is my assumptions. There’s really not much I can do about getting married right now and I need to change something. But assumptions are a royal pain in uncomfortable places to change because they’re not anything you think; they’re things you assume without thinking. But I might be able to shift myself away to a new sun if I start seeing single as plus and not a minus. I mean, it’s not as if I like being stuck in this orbit. I would love to get a place where I can tell vomit stories without it having anything to do with being married or not. It’s certainly nice to have a goal.

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I had an odd thought the other day. I am twenty-two now. That means that I am older than any of my siblings were when they got married. The question “Why?” wandered into my head then, but I chased it out with a fly swatter.

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I have a rant sitting in my head that will probably never see the light of day about how being single feels like the sole defining characteristic of my life right now. It seems sometimes that anything and everything I do, or think, or say, or write has, at its core, something to do with being single.

So, Raquel and I were talking last night and somehow the conversation turned to vomit stories. We merrily exchanged vomit stories until one of us asked how we got onto this topic. We traced the conversation back through several incarnations and, lo and behold, it had started with us talking about being single! We can’t even have a conversation about barfing without it revolving around us being single! Well, at least I was right. That always makes me feel better.

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I just noticed, and not for the first time, that we have a category called Thoughts About Being Single. If you click on this link you will find eight posts. Together, Raquel and I have written over seven hundred posts. There are a hundred and seventeen posts on Friends and Family, seventy-six posts on Poems and Stories, thirty-eight Real Life Quotes and even fourteen posts on Words. This blog is defined by us talking about this road less travelled we’ve chosen by being stay-at-home single young women and yet we don’t talk much about being single. And we talk even less about being Womanly.

I think I have an answer to this odd discovery. I can’t speak for Raquel (actually, I can, but I am choosing not to), but the reason I don’t write much about being single or about being womanly at all is because I have just about no idea how to do these things. I feel like I muddle through trying to be single to the glory of God and at the end of the day still have no idea what I did or if it was effective. So why would I want to write about it? I can write about words, family, poems and stories. I understand those things and can enjoy them. This single thing is just confusing to me.

Please don’t misunderstand me; I am not upset. I only had this thought or bothered to write it out because I was casting about for something to write to reassure both of you who read this blog that I at least still care. But it was odd when I noticed the number of posts in the Thoughts About Being Single category because it didn’t surprise me at all. I have no idea how to do this sinlge thing; why would I write about it? There are a multitude of books out there on how to be single well. Some of them are even good. I’ve only read one that was at all helpful. Maybe everybody else is just as confused I am. I think I’ll just assume that; it’s makes me feel better.

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My brother Jonathan wrote a blog post a while back talking about how so often we pray for something, but just assume God won’t do anything about it. We don’t expect that God will say yes. Perhaps I should say that I don’t expect Him to say yes.

I am single. You might have noticed. I have wanted to get married in a way that hurts like a knife ever since I was about thirteen. I’m not sure why I started so young. It’s not like I could have gotten married when I was thirteen. But right at the time of life when my sisters had started hurting for friends I skipped over friend and started hurting for a husband. My deep want took the shape of this nasty cycle of ups and downs. I would go a while were I felt okay with where I was in life and I would be able to be content and almost happy with being single. But then I would go down again and feel like I didn’t want to live this life of mine for much longer if I would be alone. I was never suicidal; I’m not disciplined enough for that. I just felt sad all the time.

As I’ve grown and grown up the ups have gotten longer and the downs easier. I was glad for this, obviously, but I kept wishing and praying that the cycle would just stop forever. I would pray that God would take it away, but I didn’t really expect Him to. I would read in all the single books were it said that basically you just have to get used to feeling rotten all the time and I would tell myself to suck it up and get used to it. Maybe someday God would be gracious and take the feeling away, but most likely not. It’s just how life was going to be and I needed to get used to it.

I didn’t notice when I stopped feeling terrible. It’s been a fairly recent change, but I can’t pinpoint when everything changed. One day I reached for the sadness, the longing, the hopelessness and it just wasn’t there. I felt around inside where it had been and there was no trace of it at all. This vicious cycle I’ve lived with and prayed about for about eight years now is just gone. I still want to get married, of course, but the crushing sorrow that I am not yet and the expectation that I never will be are gone.

Now, I can point to some changes in my life that might have had something to do with this change, but that would be beside the point. I think God reached down from Heaven and took this burden off my back when I wasn’t looking. And I think He did it because He loves me and knew I didn’t want it anymore. That’s what this tale is about. I’ve prayed and cried and asked God to do just what He did, but I still never saw it coming. I probably just don’t believe He’s as good as He says He is. And when I think about it I can’t figure out why not. He is just as good as He says He is and better than I could ever imagine. And sometimes, usually when we don’t see it coming, He says yes in a glorious way.

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Something’s been nagging at the edges of my mind for a while. I identified it as feeling that it was time to get married. I struggled to put words to it, because obviously, it’s not as though I have arrived at a state of perfection. But in some indefinable way it felt like I was ready.
I figured out what it is. I’ve finished Basic Training. Next time I get hit upside the head, it won’t be by a drill sergeant–it will be in battle. I’m still not sure that’s the best way to put it, but it’s closer than I was before.
I’ve had my heart ripped out and stomped on sufficiently to understand things I’ve always known. The phrases total depravity, infinite goodness, not relying on your own strength, and several others make far more sense than they did when I just acknowledged them as facts.
So, no, I’m not claiming I’m arrived. It’s just one of those indefinable milestones that no one can see. I don’t get any credit. I just get my heart ripped out and stomped on harder and more so next time. Whatever the next thing is, I’m ready. Not because I’m ready, but because God will bring me through it even when I mess up again.
At the end of the most recent chunk of stress in my life, I prayed that I could have a few months of just being, without having to deal with the next big thing. I’ve had that. Even with a trip to California thrown in there, I’ve had around two months without any really big stress in my life. Yes, it was a taking a break from chopping wood to haul water (as they say), and it hasn’t been a picnic, but I haven’t had to deal with anything overwhelming that I recall. I don’t know how much longer it’s going to last.
I’ve managed to start establishing a better daily routine, get my room closer to being organized, and finish a couple of the many unfinished projects I have hanging around. It doesn’t sound that impressive, but it’s been really nice to be able to work on those things, even if I still haven’t arrived at perfection with any of them (see above). I haven’t managed to write blog posts any more often, but I’ll be working on that, too.
I don’t know what the next big thing in my life is going to be, or when, or how stressful it’s going to be. That’s a good thing, really–it’s helps me be a little bit more patient. It’s an odd feeling to really like the place in my life that I’m in right now, and to really not want to stay there for the rest of my life. We’ll see what happens next.

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It is a strange thing. I felt sure when I started posting every day and giving thanks for something that I would very shortly run out of things to say. I mean, I can only be thankful for so much, right? But now that I am giving thanks I am noticing more to be thankful for. Some things are big and some things are very, very small. And I think I want to post about the small things more than I want to post about the big things. It is easy for people to notice a beautiful sunset or the food right before them, but what about the swirl in your coffee when you pour the milk in? Or the way the sunlight slants into your room in the morning? Those are also gifts from our Father.

I read a book about contentment, specifically contentment for single women, titled Fine China Is For Single Women Too. It was a fine book and I remember being challenged when the author spoke of being grateful for the lot God has given her. She said that she started noticing really little things and pausing to be happy in them and be grateful for them. And as she noticed more gifts from God she was happier in those gifts. And as she was thankful for the little gifts like the view from her window at work she found it easier to be thankful for the bigger gifts like the gift of singleness.

I have noticed a joy in myself since I’ve start writing about what I am thankful for. I’ve started noticing more things to pause and glory in, more things to be happy about and to praise God for. I do hope this joy will last. When I notice how much I am enjoying my nephews in their PJs it becomes easier to be thankful for the gift of my little nook. No, it doesn’t have a door, but have you noticed how the sunlight comes in the windows in the morning? It’s beautiful. Or have you seen the way one of the children will pop through the curtains with no warning like their going out on stage? It’s a joy to see. Even just being thankful is a gift from the Father of Lights. And for that I will pause and say Thanks.

  

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So I have this announcement to make and I can’t figure out if I want to be serious about it or sort of kinda humorous. What am I talking about? If I have a choice between serious and not serious my choice seems to be rather obvious. Okay, here goes.

Attention all readers. I have an announcement to announce. By all rights Raquel should be doing this, but she opted out and so the joy of embarrassing her falls to me. Sometime last week, I’m hazy on the details, Jeremy, a new-comer to our little group that I have been talking about recently, and Raquel, you know her, started courting. For everyone who doesn’t know this word courting think dating and take a left. So, like, there’s a guy in Raquel’s life.

I for one am very excited about this because the opportunities to tease her mercilessly abound. And not just her either. I am good enough friends with Jeremy to tease him without mercy so it is like Teasing Christmas in summer.

And now I will supply a little, and I mean little, background information. His name is Jeremy, he lived for two years with my parents and I so I know him pretty well and he moved here from Pennsylvania mostly for the purpose of pursuing Raquel. He actually chased her across the country. Isn’t that great? For any and all concerned he is a very nice guy and I do believe he will be careful with our Raquel. If he isn’t I’ll kill him. Though I might have to get in line.  

So, there is a guy in Raquel’s life and we are all very happy for them. If you would like to be happy for them too please leave a comment in the container near the exit of the room. Thank you. Good bye.

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Have you ever had one of those times when you are about to leave, but you’re not leaving yet, but you don’t have enough time to go do something? I hate those times. I call it waiting mode. Now, in this house there isn’t much in the way of waiting mode because we are usually running late and there are too many things to do before we can leave. I am grateful for that because I already have too much much waiting mode going on.

I feel like I live my life fighting against waiting mode. I have a destination in mind, but I’m not there yet. I know what I want to do with my life, but there is nothing I can do to make this end come any closer. And so I say that I am waiting. But I don’t want to be in waiting mode.

Waiting mode is no place. It is between places. And I feel this very much because I live my life between roles. I am not married, but I help keep a home. I do not have any children, but I am an authority to the children I live with. I am single, but I don’t live the single life. I feel in between. And when what I want would reshape my life it is so hard not to simply stay in between until it gets here. I could easily just cruise. But I don’t want to. I want to be someplace and do something there. And so I wake up every morning with the knowledge that this day is going to be a fight with waiting mode just like all the days before.

Recently I have enjoyed my life. This doesn’t mean that before now life was just drudgery and woe. It’s just lately I have felt at peace with where my life is and I have enjoyed some of the things my life holds more than at other times. There were some things I did with the children that I enjoyed very much and I have felt glad with my life. But I still feel the waiting at the edges of my mind. I can feel the cold of between. And I pray that God would keep it away just a little longer so that I could be glad with my life and my lot.

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We watched a movie last night. It happens to be one that I like, but it had the basic action movie plot. As I watched I had to wonder if it holds any clues as to why I’m still single. After all, they lived happily ever after–after things stopped exploding–and my life looks nothing like that. Perhaps the problem is that I’ve never been held hostage by any sort of mad criminal. It does sound like a distinct possibility, however I prefer not to be held hostage by any criminals, insane or otherwise. There must be something else. Ooh, ooh, I know! It’s because I don’t trust strange men with my life after twenty minutes accquaintance. That sounds like a promising train of thought…except that before I met the proper dashing young hero, this strategy would probably get me kidnapped by the aforementioned mad criminal. I’d still like to avoid that scenario. Maybe it’s because none of my relatives are famous scientists, detectives or secret government agents. (My father used to be a security guard; does that count?) Or because I live neither in old rambling mansion in the middle of nowhere, or in an apartment in the city. Maybe if I got myself into a car chase, or got lost out in the woods, or took up skiing so I could get trapped in an avalache, or… But no, it would all be to no avail. This has nothing to do with the real reason I’m still single. It’s perfectly clear that only one thing really stands in my way. My hair is far too long. Look at them in the movies–if I had a sleek bob like Sandra Bullock, or my hair was short and tousled like Meg Ryan’s then nothing would stand in my way. But instead I have all this hair weighing me down. Obviously I wouldn’t survive an action movie when my hair might be caught or trapped at any moment. No matter that I could actually run away from danger, while they’re still back there trying to scamper a bit in their high heels and short skirts. No matter that I know at least a dozen ways of taking out a mad criminal if he did try to hold me hostage. No matter that I have at least a smattering of wilderness survival, which is far more than they display in most movies. No matter that if I had to I could almost strangle someone with this hair. After all, if I were truly unselfish I would cut off all this hair and donate it to sick children. No dashing young hero has any interest in such a selfish heroine. And clearly it takes far too long to take care of all this hair when on the run from the bad guys (unlike all the makeup and hair styling that the heroines need). It’s really just as well. Even I did get rescued by a dashing young hero, it would somehow be planned for when James and Theresa were out on a date, so I’d be transporting five children around with me the whole time. I think I’ll stick with my normally abnormal life that doesn’t get me shot at. And I’ll keep the hair.

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