The wrong half

I've already blogged about singlehood ad nauseam. I would add links in case you'd like to catch up on the ton of "ink" that I've spilled about this subject online, but I think the number of times I've blogged about singlehood kinda already outnumbers the stars. But yes, I'm about to blog about this particular subject yet again. And it isn't because I have answers. It's partially for my sanity -- so that I can squeeze something out of my head and into cyberspace -- and partially because I've noticed that when I write about how I honestly feel about singlehood, it usually seems to help somebody else.

I've been single all my life. I've never been married. I've only had one boyfriend. And I've gone 18 1/2 years without a date. I say that not to make myself sound horribly unappealing but to give you the background for what I'm about to say.

There isn't anything wrong with me. To my knowledge, I'm not "called" to be single. I'm good-looking. I'm smart. I'm funny. But I haven't been able to attract any man of my choice for the past 18 1/2 years to save my life, and I have no idea why. (Except for one time when I found out that I liked a guy who did like me back, but by the time I discovered his feelings, I also found out he was kinda into the occult. Next, please.) I'm 36 1/2 years old, and my biological clock might be ready to stop ticking soon. I'm not writing this to ask for help. I'm not even writing this to ask for encouragement. I'm writing this because I know that I'm fearfully and wonderfully made. I'm writing this because I was created and redeemed by a God who wants me and who has awesome plans for me. I'm writing this because I know that I'm not a loser. I'm writing this because maybe someone needs to read this to be reminded that some things in life don't have easy explanations. Some hurts can take forever to heal. And some situations aren't problems that have just-add-water instant solutions.

So, since I've been single for 18 1/2 years, I thought I had experienced the full gamut of emotions -- anger, sadness, wistfulness, hope, desperation, fear, anxiety, apathy, contentment, etc. But I've recently felt something that's scared the crap out of me -- nay, I haven't felt at all. I've felt numb. This has bothered me because when something is numb, that often means that circulation has been compromised. That means that if circulation doesn't improve and normal feeling isn't restored, something could die. I'm not cool with that. I don't know how to fix it. I just know that I belong to a Father who likes to spend time with me and affirm me.

From what I understand and have been taught, that's what fathers are supposed to do. Instead of staring at the TV every evening and shooing away their little girls when they want to tell him something important about their lives, they're supposed to speak identity into their souls. "You're beautiful," not "You look like me, and I'm ugly." "I support your dreams," not "You'll never make any money." "I believe in you," not "You're idealistic." Perhaps healthy men are attracted to women who know at the core of their beings that they are WORTH being attracted to. Perhaps unhealthy slobs are attracted to women who are used to being pooped on all their lives.

Speaking of attraction, from what I understand and have been taught, mothers are supposed to nurture and protect the identity that their husbands were supposed to have spoken into their children. "It's OK to feel emotions," not "No, you don't feel anything." "Learn how to express yourself," not "Nah, those clothes aren't your style." "Let guys pursue you," not "Wear your dad's class ring so that everyone will think you have a boyfriend."

So, maybe that's one reason why it's so important to spend time with God and stay plugged into Him. He's the perfect Father who can always make up for any way that your upbringing may have messed you up. Regardless, He IS love, He IS life, and He IS the One who opens His hand and satisfies the desire of every living thing. (I think Psalm 145 will always be one of my favorites.)

Regarding singlehood, I keep hearing so many confusing messages from the church at large. It's as if I've contracted a disease that's my fault, and I've got to get cured, quick. You're dateless? Ooh, get online and date. (No, thank you, I already feel like a piece of meat.) You've got a crush on a guy? Ooh, go after him like Ruth went after Boaz. (No, thank you, some commentators suggest that she wound up with him because she fornicated with him first. Uh, are you really sure you want me to follow in her footsteps??) You're still single? Ooh, pray and ask God for a husband, and name it and claim it! (Prayer? Sarcastic gasp! I've never thought about that before! Realistic sigh. Look, I know God. And I'm a writer/editor by profession. Deadlines are horrible, and they kill creativity. I do NOT want to give my creative God a deadline.)

There is one thing that seems like a truth that I can't ignore: Men are supposed to be the initiators. I mean, if marriage is supposed to be a reflection of Christ and the church, did the church climb up to heaven and pursue Christ, or did Christ come down from heaven and go through tremendous suffering so that He could be reconciled to His bride? Yep, that's what I thought.

So, if you think I have some kind of disease that you don't want to catch, and if you think I need to get cured, quick, seriously, you're giving advice to the wrong half. If a relationship is supposed to start with a man, then go talk to the man, not me. Chillax, reader. I'm not asking you to go pimping for me. ("Hey, single guy who Tirzah is possibly not attracted to, I just read her blog post about being desperate, so you should ask her out!") I'm just saying that I'm waiting for men to initiate on purpose. I think that's what God wants. I think that's His heart. I think that's how He designed for it to happen. Plus, I've noticed that relationships are NOT a science. Relationships are an ART. (By "relationship," I mean any type of relationship, even a platonic friendship.) Each relationship involves two halves. If one half is willing to have a relationship, but the other half is unwilling, then a relationship won't happen. Period. I can crush on a guy and like a guy and pray for the guy all I want, but if he isn't willing to be with me, then the relationship WON'T happen. And it hurts like crazy (if it doesn't feel numb from over-hurting), but I'm OK with that.

I think about the most important relationships in my life (i.e., close friends, and yes, my cats), and I think about my personality, and I realize that my most important relationships happened not because I uncovered somebody's feet (that makes my ears blush just typing about it) but because I was just living life. I was walking along, and good people (and cats) came along. Sure, there were some points of extreme pain where I was maybe praying to get into college (and got an awesome roommate) or praying for a faithful friend (and got some) or even praying because I wanted a cat (and got an even better one than I had wanted), and in time, I got the relationship that I'd been longing for. Why should waiting and praying for a husband be any different?

Valentine's Day is just around the corner. Every year for the past several years, I've thought that I could go through it without hurting, but it hasn't happened yet. This year, I'm concerned that I'll go through it with my heart as hard as a boulder. Regardless, I choose to lean on my God who has always been faithful to be my Friend, give me friends, give good gifts, lavish His love, blot my tears, listen to my babblings, and speak priceless identity into my raw-aching soul. Thank you for reading, but if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get off my blogging butt and get some exercise in my cat-populated bachelorette pad -- not because I'm trying to trim down and attract a husband but because, well, I kinda like being healthy. And my Father likes me that way, too.