I was dealt a hand in marriage that, fortunately enough, I was able to fold on early in the game. I mean, if we want to get technical, I think in this case, God folded my hand for me. If you’ve never played poker with me you should know, I’ll win every time… the first time. I won good money from tough boys in college. The first game is always mine. And then they learn after I take their money that all I have is luck and the ability to lie through my teeth. This strategy only works for a time. More hands than I can count, I kept betting money on a lie. The pot got bigger. My chips were bleeding into the center of the table. I was in it to win it… until I lost. I’ve said it many times before, I would have gone down with the (relation)ship I was in. Clever, huh? It’s sad, but true. At the time, I was betting a “winning” hand. Looking over my shoulder I was nothing short of delusional. Except my redemption in poker chips, was served out by my Savior. I am a lucky, thankful, gracious young lady. It hurt bad and I lost big. But it could’ve been far worse. I could have been married to the game.
I am going to tread lightly here and I hope you’ll give me the grace to not drown in your misinterpretation. I sent questions out to a group of amazing women. It just so happens a majority of the women in my life are married, so the results will statistically swing that way. I sent it to successful women, corporate women, world’s best mom women, gorgeous women, creative women, exceptional wives, role models and exciting singles; though I still believe every thing about them, I got answers back from broken women leaning on a perfect Lord.
This whole process has got me thinking, we are a wounded bunch of birds. I mean, really. We are hobbling around with broken wings. Some of us have been hit by cars, others of us shaken out of a tree by a careless boy. It also made me realize this single girl has got IT made. I opened up a letter from a married friend. It brought me to my knees in tears. Another one. I broke again. And again. I spoke with a dear friend recently, who has walked through an unimaginable heartbreak. As I listened to her tragic story unfold I was hit with so many different emotions: Anger towards the person who had wronged her so horribly, sadness knowing she had to carry such a weight, and admiration for a woman with so much integrity and strength to stand amidst the wreckage of what justifiably could’ve send her straight to the couch under the covers never to return. (That’s where you could find me.) The worst part of it all? I could copy and paste that last sentence over again for far too many of my incredibly resilient friends.
I mailed out empty envelopes and they have come back to me with lyrics to songs of strong women walking through some pretty tough, pretty yucky stuff. I have found myself on my knees in prayer more times since picking the brains of my loved ones, then maybe ever. I had absolutely no idea what God would throw at me on this journey. No idea. Here’s what I do know.. I sought out on this road to break up recovery expecting to arrive at emotional health. I am on a mission to security and I’m not stopping for potty breaks. I’m so close I can almost taste it, but I need you to jump with me. I might even share my beef jerky. (An indisputable must have for any roadtrip, sorry.)
Here’s where I’ll need the grace. Though, I broke for some of my single friends, their replies just read differently. They echoed with excitement and fear. Kind of like traveling to a new state, I live for the adventure and excitement of it all. I thrive on it, actually. Every single lady desires an adoring husband. And our tears are split over nothing more than our boy-less existence. I love my single ladies. But I have GOT to make it clear. We have the light load. Did you hear that? Do you believe it? If life were a puzzle, we’d have the one for ages 4 and under. Marriage is awesomely tough. We are sinners, there is no way around it.
And please hear me. I’m not sweeping that precious unmarried heart of yours under the rug. Girl, I’m single. I get it. But we don’t get it… if ya get me? Got it? I’ve learned a couple things on this trip. I have no business writing to the married heart. How could I even attempt it? I won’t even try. Next, I could get red in the face with excitement talking about how we should be SEIZING THIS SEASON, ladies. If you were next to me, I’d shake you until your eyeballs popped out. I won’t let go until you believe it too!
If you already knew this. You’re far wiser than I. I believed for 26 years married people are lucky and a group to be hated, envied and the like. They have nothing to be sad about. Me, with out the ring? Now that was something to shed tears over. Let’s just say the ‘me today’, wishes she could flick the ‘me then’ in the forehead.
As I drove home tonight, radio off, windows down… it hit me. I have heard one too many stories of us getting let down, experiencing a broken heart, shattered dream, someone we love saying the wrong thing, or walking away, a brutal rejection, he cheated, he lied, he was emotionally abusive, or emotionally absent and the grotesque list goes on. This is not a boy bash session. That is not and will never be my heart. I love boys. I fall in love often and fast. Boys are lovely and exciting. I can’t wait to meet the lucky guy who gets stuck with my vivid imagination and love of facebook self portraits. But tonight truth washed over me and I smiled big. God will never hurt me. It’s just not going to happen. I will never be able to say that He checked off one of the wrongs listed above. I will never cry myself to sleep over a God who doesn’t pursue me, or love me. He does not reject or walk away. He can’t lie and He won’t cheat. I am blessed to be romanced by a freakin’ stud.
This season is one to be savored like a big bowl of ice cream. Girl, grab a spoon.