Day 191

Marriage is like a fairy tale.

I sit, I watch, I rejoice as husbands cradle their wives, wives clamor to their husbands.  This has been the year of weddings, and it's not over yet.

Each time, there is a deep joy in my heart that two people have found each other in the masses and have committed to spending their lives together as one.  With that joy, there's also a subtle ache.  Kind of like the drunk uncle that shows up to the wedding and starts dancing.

You don't want him there, but he is.  Prancing all over your feelings.

I think deep down I believe in marriage.  I believe in love.  I believe in commitment.

But only for other people.

Not for me.  No.  I'm far too stained and far too gone for anyone besides God to love.

I never imagined at 27 that I'd be single.  In fact, there were plenty of things I never thought I would be at 27, but here I am.  All that I have made me to be.  All the sin, all the dirt, and the death.  Forget all that I am and all that God has made me to be—no, I'm far too dirty to be loved by another person.  God is going to have to suffice, I think, because no one else could possibly love me like God.

Who would sacrifice his desires for me?

Who would sacrifice his health?

His wealth?

Who would sacrifice his life for me?

No, no I don't believe in marriage for me.

That dancing uncle is all I have.

How much longer will I ache for the husband that doesn't exist?

Take this fire from me, God, and let me only want You.

Apparently my trust in God is waning.  As is my hope.  And so is the knowledge that I've been forgiven.  Hashtag, more issues to deal with.  Hashtag, sigh.

Day 43

There are ups and there are downs.  Tonight is a down.

I was fine.  Until I watched The Help.

As soon as Skeeter walked in to play Bridge with the young married housewives, I was angry.

The last few months God has been showing me at just what I am angry.

For the couples in my life who I have deemed worthy of marriage, I support, encourage, praise, and smile.  But when people become engaged who I don’t deem worthy—I get jealous, furious, and plaster on a fake grin.  Because, really, why do they deserve marriage?

And that’s exactly the thought that crosses my mind.  Right?  Because I have the power to say who does and does not deserve to be married.  Phew, that pride is limping a little.  I’m all for the friends who have had difficult, faithful journeys to reach the end of the aisle, but when it comes to friends who have stumbled upon love, I’m vicious.

I got so upset watching those women in that movie.  They got the big house, they got the children, they got the man—why?  Why them?

And that’s the same thought I think each time I find out another girl has gotten engaged.  Why?

She’s not as nice as me.

She’s not as kind as me.

She’s not as funny as me.

She’s not as pretty as me.

Yeah, I said it!  Those are the evil thoughts I think!  Admitting it is the first step.

As we were sitting in our group tonight, we touched on idea that God uses the hurt in our lives.  Our painful past decisions work for God’s glory.  It is just now I’m beginning to struggle with this.  A month ago I would’ve agreed wholeheartedly.  And I still agree.   But there’s a bull inside me waiting to buck—not because it’s not true, but because of this deep fear within me.

A few weeks ago my friend Jillian handed out a worksheet to help pinpoint the lies we believe about God.  It was at least a two hour process for me to fill this out.  And at the end?  This is the lie I believe about God:

“God is selfish.  He doesn’t want to see me happy.  He doesn’t care about me.  He doesn’t care if I’m happy.  He doesn’t care if I’m ever loved by anyone.  God is selfish, and He’s the reason why I’ve been in all these failed relationships.  If God is love, and I’m not worthy of love, then how could He ever love me or let me be loved?  I am never going to be loved.  God is going to use me till there's nothing left.  My happiness doesn't matter.  And then he's going to discard me just like all the rest.”

God is going to use me till there’s nothing left.  And then He’s going to leave me.

At the center of my heart is abuse and abandonment.

Not love.

Am I really in white robes?  Will I ever wear a white dress?  What’s the point if love isn’t at the end?