Category Archives: Solo Historian

Worst Day of the Year

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Today, Valentine’s Day, is supposed to be the worst day of the year for me as a 30-year-old single woman.

Or at least that’s what everyone tells me.

I refuse to accept that.

I love Valentine’s Day. I remember sitting on my bedroom floor with my sticker-decorated shoebox full of valentines, reading them over and over. Sending and receiving cards is definitely my favorite part of this holiday. That alone would be enough to make me enjoy this holiday. But then you add in chocolate, pink, hearts, and flowers. What’s not to love?

Today I’m enjoying the holiday with a treat exchange at work and a small celebratory thank you for my outbound boss (she’s moving to another department). Saturday, I’m having a few other fabulous single ladies for a holiday dinner, something I hope to make a tradition. I know that not every single woman embraces this holiday, so I want to know that they’re loved. Loved by me, but more importantly, by our God in heaven.

So don’t tell me this holiday isn’t for me. It’s for all of us.

Photo by Lori Greig

Chosen

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Photo by 2 little banshees

I haven’t written about singleness in a while. (The last time I did, I started with this same sentence, so it’d also be accurate to say I haven’t written about singleness frequently, either.) While I don’t think my relationship status defines me, it is a part of who I am.

I’m still at peace with being single with no prospect of change in sight. As I near my 30th birthday, I know that this will continue to be something that I’ll think about often. Perhaps I’ll struggle with contentment again. I just don’t know.

While I can honestly say that I am happy with my life, if there was one thing about marriage that I particularly desire, it’s the idea of being chosen. The idea that there’s one person who picked me over all others. It’d probably indicate he’s crazy, but so am I.

But if I think about it, I have something much better. God chose me while I was still a sinner. It’s not based on anything I have/will/can do for him.

And that’s better than being chosen by a mere man.

A Whole Person

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I haven’t written about singleness in a while. While being single is somewhat of a fundamental distinction, it really isn’t a big part of my life.

Because, really, being single is just the absence of a marriage…kinda a default setting.

There have been points in my life when singleness was a big deal. In my college years and the few years thereafter, especially. Since then, I go through seasons of discontent with my marital status. I’m not in one now though.

In fact, I’m probably the most content with my current situation than I have ever been. I still have my moments of longing, but those often catch me by surprise because they are fairly rare.

I can honestly say that I could see living as a single, content spinster for the rest of my days. The thought doesn’t scare me.

Others, however, don’t seem so content to let me be. I do have some super-supportive family and friends, so I’m definitely not talking about them. But in a few casual conversations, it seems like my marital status seems to have many people tripping over their words. Like they don’t know what they could possibly talk about with an almost-30-year-old single woman.

I promise, it’s really not that much different than talking to another almost-30-year-old woman.

No, I don’t have a husband, but you can still talk about yours. No, I don’t have children of my own, but I enjoy them and don’t feel awkward at all if you talk about yours.

I have a job, interests, and hobbies like most people. Nothing wrong with asking about any of those.

In these casual conversations, it seems like these people desire marriage for me because they see it as my fairy tale ending, as if I’m not quite complete without it. Don’t worry: I’m no longer have any disillusion that marriage is a necessarily happier state than singleness.

And I know that I’m a whole person; I don’t need a man to complete me.

Scratch that. I need Christ to complete me.

A Hope that Hurts

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The evening started out innocently enough. Having just finished my last spiritual growth book, I went to my TBR bookshelf and picked up Feminine Appeal by Carolyn Mahaney. The subtitle “Seven Virtues of a Godly Wife and Mother” made me chuckle, since I’m not a wife or a mother and have no prospects of becoming either.

But then I sat down to read it. Read the forward, great. Read the first chapter introducing the studied scripture Titus 2, no problem. I’ve even written a paper on it myself.

But then I got to the next chapter, “The Delight of Loving My Husband.” As I continued to read on as merely an interested observer I thought, “What if I still will get married?” My heart started to beat loudly within my chest.

I’m sure that sounds silly, but it’s true. While somewhere hidden inside I still desire to get married, I’ve written off my 28-year-old self as a hopeless cause.

I guess you can only hear “I’m sure you’ll get married” (always accompanied with a look of pity and a pat on the shoulder) so many times before it becomes a mockery.

In the last two years, I’ve come a long way towards being content in my singleness and have truly enjoyed it and the freedom it affords.

But somehow with that, slowly but surely, has come the resignation that since I’m 28 and contentedly single (well, more often than not), I’ll continue to be single the rest of my days.

I don’t know where I’ve gotten that ridiculous idea. I’m 28–only 2 years over the average age women get married. I think it must be the same kind of thing you tell yourself when you’re up for an award: “It won’t be me; it won’t be me,” just to try to keep yourself from being too disappointed when it’s not you (though somehow you still really think you will win because you “deserve” it).

But when I read that chapter, I allowed myself that dangerous hope once again. The hope that I won’t be spending the majority of my evenings alone.

And as I felt that hope rising within me, I felt my hardened heart opening itself up, allowing itself to be vulnerable, showing its soft inside.

And it hurts.

Photo Credit: David Schexnaydre

With Prince Charming or Not

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One conversation from yesterday was special enough (in more than one sense) that it deserved its own post. I’m going to narrate it, as it just suits the story better.

A young girl I’ll call Maggie pulls out one of her Barbies. It’s one of the Disney Prince Charmings–a Prince Charming that has clearly been passed through the hands of most–if not all–of the 4 girls as he is balding (his black hair rubbed off near his forehead), missing a leg, and without his princely garments.

Maggie gives Prince Charming to me. “Here you go.”

“Uhh, thanks. Actually, I have been looking for a Prince Charming.”

“You wouldn’t care that he doesn’t have one of his legs?” Maggie asks, genuinely surprised.

“No, that wouldn’t bother me,” I respond truthfully.

“And naked?” she responds in disgust.

“Well, not until the wedding.”

I ask Maggie where my real prince charming is. She and her sisters proceed to offer up all the “available” men they can think of: several teenagers, a few married men, and their brother (I politely tell him that he can look me up in 20 years, causing him to blush).

When their list of eligible men was exhausted, I ask Maggie to look me in the eyes.

In a serious tone I tell her, “I do hope to get married some day, but even if I never do, I will continue to live each day happy.”

Her shock was obvious. At 6, she already is so ready to get married. “But that means you can’t have children!”

I fight back tears as I whisper, “I know.”

But her brain didn’t stop there, just like mine doesn’t. She delightfully gives her conclusion, “But if you had kids, you couldn’t watch us!”

I give Maggie a big hug. Yes, Maggie, I know.

The Single Life and Loneliness

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Too long ago, I asked you all if you had some questions for me.  Cammy did, and she commented:

My question is a two parter: First, how do you feel about having been single for so long? And second, how do you combat the loneliness (if you get lonely)?  I ask because I need the advice. I am sooo bad at being single :(

I have been single for a long time.   All of my adult life, really.  I go through ups and downs, but right now it’s about the easiest it has been.  As they say, practice makes perfect…or something like that.

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I sometimes buy into the stigma of being single.  I’m thankful to have other single ladies in my life, of all ages, which helps me to not feel so alone.  We’re designed to desire the intimacy of marriage…and I do desire it.  So though I think about that several times a day, it’s not a consuming thought.

I think I’ve mentioned it on the blog before, but one of the hardest things to do solo is go to church events.  I have lots of friendships at church, but I still don’t like to go to anything alone.  Usually I will only go with someone else.

And yes, Cammy, I do get lonely.  Though this is one of the easier times for me, I still occasionally go to sleep crying (or more often, feel like it, but can’t get the tears to come).  When I’m struggling with loneliness, one of the best things for me is to turn my focus outwards, away from me.  It’s not about me.  How can I worship God?  How can I serve others?  Of course, I don’t always have this attitude and choose to wallow instead, but I know it helps when I do adopt that outward focus.  After all, being single we often have more control over our “free” time than others do.

I don’t think it’s possible to be “good” at singleness.  I hope that helps you, Cammy, and anyone else who struggles with singleness.  It is a gift…but it’s not always a “fun” one.

Photo by Niffty

Control Hog

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Thanks to Jen for basically writing the last couple of paragraphs of this post. It’s humbling (and ironic) to not even know how to finish my thoughts on this subject.

I’m a woman of control.

Or at least that’s what I want.

My problem (okay, one of them) is that I think I know best.  About everything.  Not only do I think I know what’s best for those around me, I think I know what’s best for me, too.  Always have, just ask my mom.

The thing is, I don’t.  I might be blessed with worldly smarts, but I’m still sorely lacking in true wisdom.  As we’ve been walking through Solomon’s life in my kindergarten Sunday school class, we’ve been talking a lot about wisdom.  I think the best way to learn a concept is to have to try to explain it to a 5-year-old…there are so many concepts I can’t quite get across to them (glory, the Trinity).  If you ask them, I hope they can tell you that we’ve talked about how wisdom is knowing what is right and good.

The older I get (and in theory, the wiser I get), the more I realize that I’m like a 3 on a scale of 100 of possible human wisdom.  At most.

Last week I realized that I’m okay with my singleness as long as I in my earthly “wisdom” can decipher out a way out.  And as far as singleness goes, the way I want out is a man, a plan, and a ring by spring…or at least by next spring.

Hmm, that doesn’t sound like contentment to me.

Just shows me that I still demand control of my own life, my own future.  That I prefer my plans to whatever God has in store for me, as foolish as that is.  I know that God knows what’s best for me (He knows me better than myself!), but somehow I can’t get that to truly stick in my daydreaming head.

It’s times like this that I have to remind myself that I have been fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14) and that the very hairs on my head are numbered (Matthew 10:30)–gray or not–and that before one day of my life came to pass, God ordained each of them (Psalm 139:16).  How foolish I am to think that I would know more than Him!  How can I know myself better than the one who knit me in my mother’s womb (v. 13)?

Moment by moment, I must make the choice to trust Him in His infinite wisdom.  I give Him the reigns one night, only to rip them back from him minutes, or at most, hours later.  It is only when I trust Him that I can truly find contentment.

God, help me remember that.

Photo by Drunken Monkey

Once Upon a Dream

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I’m a dreamer.  I mean, I know some of you who are longtime readers of the Ignorant Historian know that I’m such a famous dreamer that I’ve been featured in The Washington Post.  Or perhaps that’s not quite how it went down.  Things get fuzzy in my old age.

As often as I have crazy adventure dreams at night (and that is every night these days), I’m even more of a daydreamer.  I’m constantly imagining things in my head: what I’ll do once I’ve reached my emergency savings goal, what I’d do if I was famous, and every step of completely-unrealized relationships from “Wanna go to dinner?” to “I do” (including how I’d tell you about him).  Actually, that last one is a recurring theme in my life.

The problem is, these daydreams are entirely unhelpful.  While these aren’t bad dreams (okay, except the famous one) they aren’t the kinds of dreams that God has for me.  I know that, but this quote still hit home:

“Though we may not be aware of it, we are often at odds with our wise and loving Lord.  The change he is working on is not the change we dream about.” – How People Change by Timothy Lane and Paul Tripp, p. 33

If I could change one thing in my life, it would be to trade in my singleness.  But I don’t think that’s high on God’s to-do list in my life.  I’m hoping that He wants me married, too, but He’s much more concerned with my righteousness.  He wants to root out out the sinful actions in my life and the sinful desires that lead me there.

May God help me make His desire, my desire.

Photo by Denis Collette

The Example of Hannah

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Of all the people we’re introduced to in the Bible, the one I most relate to is Hannah.  In my recent struggles for contentment in God, I turned once again to the familiar passage of 1 Samuel 1-2.

Hannah is a woman who knew unmet longings.  Just like my desire for a husband is good and natural, her desire for a child is good and natural.  She wanted to be a mother: something that as a woman, God designed her to do.

One thing that always stands out to me about this passage is Hannah’s emotions are spelled out for us.  Hannah calls her childless state an “affliction” (v. 11).  It wouldn’t be hard to imagine what a woman longing for a child might be feeling, but the Bible makes it clear:

“…her rival used to provoke her grievously to irritate her…” (v. 6, ESV)

“…Hannah wept and would not eat.” (v. 7)

Hannah’s husband: “Why is your heart sad?” ( v. 8 )

“I am a woman troubled in spirit.” (v. 15)

“…my great anxiety and vexation.” (v. 16)

Clearly, having a son was not a passing fancy for Hannah, any more than my desire for a husband is a fleeting thought in my life.  In fact, I just noticed for the first time that in verse 7 it gives us a bit of time reference for the events: “So it went on year by year.”  Year after year!  While we don’t know how many years, I’m sure it was quite a few or it wouldn’t state it like that.  During this time, not only did Hannah remain childless, she was being provoked by her fertile counterpart, likely daily coming into contact with her and her growing family.  Her childlessness is being rubbed in her face (something that I’m thankful not to have experienced).

The thing is, though Hannah was missing something that she rightfully desired, she was also blessed.  She had a husband who loved her and was well cared for (let’s leave out the bigamy as a topic for another day).  Compared to many who suffered in Israel, she had it made.  I can say the same for myself: I have been overwhelming blessed in almost every way.  Except for a companion in life, what more do I lack?  But like Hannah, what I lack seems to eclipse all the many blessings.

What I love so much about this little vignette is Hannah’s response to her unmet desire.  She offered herself to the Lord, emotions and all.  Though her desires were a mix of sinful and godly (as mine are…I love that the Bible doesn’t gloss over it’s hero’s–and heroine’s–sins), she brought them before God.  My favorite verse in this passage is verse 10:

“She was deeply distressed and prayed to the LORD and wept bitterly.”

Now this I can definitely relate to.  The good, the bad, and the ugly, all wrapped up together in one sticky mess.  She took her unmet longings and all the emotions tied up with them to the One who could fix them–and her.

And the Lord answered her prayers.  I love the language the Bible uses to describe the conception of Samuel: “…and the LORD remembered her” (v. 19).  When (Lord willing!) I’m pregnant with my first child, I think that’s how I’d tell my husband, “The Lord remembered me.”

Of course, this was likely not the first time that she prayed to God.  No doubt, this was a familiar scene for Hannah, offering up her desire for a child again.  But in His timing, God answered.  This gives me hope–not a promise, but hope–that God will answer my prayers for a husband.

And until that time, I will wait, continually giving up my desires to the One who can fulfill them and use them to mold me.

Valentine’s Weekend

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Though I can hardly believe it’s that time again, Valentine’s Day is this weekend. Usually I’m more excited about it, but between the weddings and tax season I haven’t had a lot of time to think about it.

I know a lot of singles like to mope on this day. While that might sadly be me on other occasions, I have always enjoyed Valentine’s Day.  What’s not to love about a day full of chocolate, pink, flowers, and cards?  I love to use this time to show love for others: my family, my friends, and in particular, fellow single ladies.

Though I haven’t yet gotten into this season, I do hope to spend an extra few minutes loving others, and I hope you will to.  Have a great weekend!