SINGLENESS, SHMINGLENESS

I digressed on a post not too far back about my "singleness..." Ouch.

Like, is there any other word (besides "single") to describe my being without a good man in my life?

I tell my friends, J.C. is my boyfriend. True. True. He sees that my many needs are met. He loves listening to me. He adores me just the way I am. I believe he encourages me to eat dessert and not worry about how clean I keep the inside of my car. I know he digs my jokes.

I'm a woman and intimacy with a woman is a complicated matter. God understands this.

Wise Paul writes in 1 Corinthians of the "gift of singleness."

"I wish everyone could get along without marrying, just as I do. But we are not all the same. God gives some the gift of marriage, and to others he gives the gift of singleness." 1 Corinthians 7:7

Our singles pastor said to me once, "If you ever find yourself thinking about sex, you do not have the gift of singleness."

Rimshot, please.

I met with a single woman's group earlier this week. The study was on Eve.

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Genesis 2:25 - The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.

But being that we now live in a fallen world, our nakedness (emotionally, speaking) is painful. My vulnerability to a man and my desire for one leave me tender. I can write a lot of junk about how strong I am...oh trust me, I am strong...but I'm not gonna say that I don't often long for some godly lug to come my way and at the very least, ask me out for coffee.

Genesis 3:16 - To the woman he (God) said, "I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you."

"And he will rule over you..."

To me, this didn't mean that some man would stand over me demanding that I wash his socks. To me, it has always meant that woman would desire man. That she would be (in moments of weakness) pulverized by her emotional need for him.

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This week I continue to pray for peace about my singleness... but I'm tired and would love a pair of masculine arms around me...I pray for strength...but all I feel like asking is "Lord, where's my godly man?"

"Look at me and help me!
I'm all alone and in big trouble." --Psalm 25:16

Yes, I am exceptionally tired this week (this is probably in part, where these tired words are coming from...). I have been lifting up many sisters, serving them and loving on them. Many are hurting over broken relationships. Many are hurting over their singleness. I am, to a certain degree, hurting over my singleness, feeling vulnerable in my desire, but I'm often too proud to admit it.

I hate that I'm too proud to admit it.

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I feel like someone is baking brownies but I'm not allowed in the kitchen. I can smell them but I'm not allowed to feast. I feel I'm parked in this place filled with women at different levels of singleness who are either:

impatient someone's making brownies they can't get their hands on
or they're telling themselves a $300 Coach bag will kill their appetite
or they're convinced a burrito will suffice
or they're trying to force on the rest of us the idea that brownies are poison
or they are weeping because they're hungry.

One has had a brownie already but it wasn't cooked and it stuck to the roof of her mouth and she's terribly confused about whether or not she should go back for another. She's rambling again...I'm ignoring her this time...

I'm hanging out in this place with these women...no, sometimes, I'm pacing...trying to listen empathetically....

I read a magazine to occupy myself
I listen to music to occupy myself
I walk around my neighborhood at sunset to occupy myself
I open my window up at night and listen to the frogs in the stream to occupy myself
I read Psalms to occupy myself
I blog on my Mac to occupy myself...

I'm trying my best to be obedient but it isn't always working. I can still smell the brownies...I was MADE to love them.

"And he will rule over you..."

The burrito is begining to look good.

I am not too proud to admit that my heart anticipates the day that kitchen door will fling open and a dove will fly out (okay, knowing my life, it might probably be a white pigeon...)

and God says:

"Danie, frosted or plain?
...with or without walnuts?"

I am not too proud that in my singleness/shmingleness, I live with the hope (dim or otherwise, depending on my mood) that one day I might step up and receive what my senses have been telling me God has been at work creating with especially me in mind. And as I blog these words, I think, maybe it IS okay to admit I am often frustrated. God understands. He will set peace within my heart on His terms.

Today, I think I'll turn back to Psalms. It's been a tough week, my body is tired and my senses are dull...I long to know what's baking with my name on it. I have courage that one day I'll know.

Friends, on that day, you can bet I'll feast without hesitation. My certain delight still warm from the oven.

Taco Bell clearly, clearly behind me.