There is not one other moment that compares to this. Not when I graduated high school, though that was a feat. Not when I was accepted into a college—that was a surprise. Not when I moved 2,000 miles away from home, even though that was a new chapter in my life. Or even when I got my first job. No, no, this is much different.
This has been the first solid event of momentum driving parallel to the will of Christ—a challenge of obedience. And it’s taken a long time to be here. Maybe that’s why it is so satisfying.
Tomorrow will officially mark nine months of this challenge. Nine months of purposeful singleness. Nine months of intentional growth. Nine months of conscientiously navigating friendships, feelings, and purity.
In a mere three months, it will be over, only to open the doors to a new challenge, if I do decide to date.
All this “training”—the reassembling of my heart and its focus will be tested in ways it hasn’t been yet.
And there are questions. Will I make myself too available once the challenge is over? Will I relinquish the right of pursuit to men? Will my words and actions continue to be honorable? To kiss or not to kiss? Will I take relationships slower? Faster? How different will I really be?
Bryan shared one thought that has remained with me since he recounted it weeks ago. When he and wife Korie first were married, he reminisced on how little they had. I don’t think it’s farfetched to say they didn’t have much, but what they did have—each other—was all they needed at the time. Those years, he said, were his favorite.
I play and imagine a husband of my own, and our beginning years. The next man—if there is a next man—who loves me, the one who marries me, I will know for certain this love—with everything I’ve learned—will be much, much different than anything I’ve felt or experienced before.
I’ve dated men for sport. I’ve dated men for what they can give me. I’ve dated men for whom I’ve settled. Men have dated me for sport. Men have dated me for what I can give them. And men have settled for me. Reason upon wrong reason. Hurt upon hurt. I have the opportunity to love differently now. To be different. To see differently.
This year of singleness has and will provide a sense of clarity that prior to this I’ve never possessed. Clarity. Clarity for vision. To see. Clarity to see myself as a Godly woman. Clarity to see a Godly man. And a vision to see two Godly forces come together, for Christ.
Obedience has given me more than I ever imagined, which is amazing, since being obedient is not something we do for ourselves, but something we do born of trust, of desire to exemplify reverence and love to our Father.
But that’s the way it normally happens, isn’t it? We end up doing things out of love for Him, and He always ends up outdoing us in love.
I hope He is proud of me.
God, I’d never thought I’d say this, but thank You for all those horrible love stories that came before You in my life. Having walked through each of them let me learn so much—mostly, what love is not. And, God, thank You so much for our love story, for You showing me what love is. It is because You love me that I even stand a chance of loving someone else. Thank You in advance for whatever future love may come along. I pray that this time meant for You is not in vain. That if there is a heart for me out there, that I can be a blessing to him. Should there not be anyone, let my love be cultivated still for others and spread among your children in ways that bless their lives. The reassurance is, I know You would not let me be a helpmate to any man who doesn’t pursue the latter statement anyway. It’s a win-win-win situation. I feel safe in Your hands, and, maybe, that has been the hidden purpose of this OYC all along.
