Raw singlehood

This post is rated: R for raw. R for ridiculous. R for really?

This post won't be pretty at all. Have you seen any of those Facebook photos where news channels will post a snapshot of a traffic accident or a mugshot? It's kind of like a disaster in real time. I think they post those kinds of things so that people will be aware of what's going on and also so that people can learn from the situations. I don't have a Facebook photo to offer you this evening, but I do have some real-time stuff to offer you.

In one of their songs, Five Iron Frenzy says that God wastes nothing. I think Romans 8:28 confirms this -- God works together all things for good to those who love God (i.e., me) and who are called according to His purpose (i.e., me again). I'm typing this with eyes that are puffy from intermittent crying that occurred throughout the evening. I don't usually write when I'm this upset or angry. (I usually try to calm down a bit, honest.) But for some reason, I really think God wants me to write about this now, while it's fresh on my mind and while I'm drunk with grief, perhaps because somebody needs to read this, perhaps to at least understand my perspective while it's still raw.

I think it is possible to be drunk with grief, so to speak. In 1 Samuel 1, Hannah was ridiculously crazy with emotional pain because she was barren. She had been unable to conceive a child. The Bible says that she was bitter and in anguish. Eli the priest saw her praying and thought she was drunk. She clarified to him, basically, that she was just hurting and pouring her heart out to God. I think Proverbs 13:12 would say that Hannah's heart was sick because her hope was deferred. She had wanted a child so badly, but she hadn't gotten it yet, and I guess her heart had gotten sick in the process.

So, this evening I discovered that my heart was sick in a specific area. I haven't had a date in 19 years. I'm not asking for pity. I would just like you to try to wrap your brain around this concept and understand why platitudes I've been fed and easy answers I've been offered make me want to throw something. OK, 19 years dateless. What can happen in 19 years? That's almost 2 decades. A person could be born, grow up, graduate from high school, and begin college in 19 years' time. About 3 or 4 brand-new cars could be paid off over the course of 19 years. Several children could have been born in 19 years. Are you grasping the vastness of this time frame? OK. So, you understand that this is a ridiculously long time.

I heard an elder at my church say once that singlehood was a type of barrenness. In other words, me not being able to find or attract a husband in 19 years might be comparable to a married couple not being able to conceive a child in 19 years. So, please indulge me with this comparison that I'm about to compose. Let me know if you share my desire to throw something at the end of this comparison. I will create 3 fiction characters: the married couple George and Mary, and their well-intentioned churchgoing friend Annie.

ANNIE: (carrying her toddler in her arms) Hello, there, you two! How's it going?

GEORGE: (smiling with his arm around Mary) Oh, can't complain.
MARY: Doing pretty good. How are you, Annie?
ANNIE: (toddler begins to fuss) Oh, just busy, busy, busy. Children are so much work.
GEORGE: (smile begins to fall) Yes, that's what I hear.
MARY: How old is he now?
ANNIE: Fourteen months. And his older brothers are six and, uh… three, I think. (giggles) Look at me! I can't even remember my own kids' ages.
GEORGE: (chuckles nervously and takes thoughts captive regarding Annie's competence as a mother) So, how is your husband Jack doing?
MARY: (picks up on George's cue for changing the subject) I heard he just started a new job.
ANNIE: (chortles) Oh, he's just as lazy as ever. The only thing I can ever count on him to get off his butt to do is… (hesitates nervously and looks at her toddler) That reminds me. We found out we're expecting again. (sighs frustratedly)
GEORGE: (clears throat and fights the temptation to respond sarcastically with "Oh, that's terrible") Wow. Congratulations.
MARY: (smiling) Yeah! That's great!
ANNIE: (rolls eyes) Thank you. I can't believe I have to do this all over again. I mean, I haven't even lost all that weight I gained from this last one. (jiggles fussing toddler)
MARY: (scrambling to find something sympathetic to say) Yeah. I bet that's a lot of work.
ANNIE: (smiling) So, have you two finally conceived?
MARY: (blushes and looks down at belly; wonders if she's gotten chubby enough to look pregnant) Uh… no.
GEORGE: Not yet. (scrambles to change the subject; tousles Annie's toddler's hair) Hey, there, little guy! Did you like Sunday School today?
ANNIE: Are you sure you haven't conceived yet? (points at Mary's belly with a sing-songy tone) I thought I saw a little bummmp…
MARY: (impatiently groans) Really?
GEORGE: (gently squeezes Mary's shoulder) Um, no, we're 100% sure that we haven't conceived yet.
ANNIE: (smiling) Are you sure?
MARY: (as gently as she can) Yes, of course I'm sure. I took a pregnancy test again this morning. And, just like it's been every week since we've been married--
GEORGE: That's 52 times 19.
MARY: Yes, thank you, dear. It's still negative.
ANNIE: Oh. That's too bad. Have you visited the fertility clinic?
GEORGE: (groans) Yes. We've gone four times. Still nothing. I'm shooting blanks.
ANNIE: And I have duds.
GEORGE: But we're still trying. We're still believing that God is all who He says He is--
MARY: (slowly in the hopes that Annie will take the hint) And we don't usually like to talk about it.
ANNIE: (to George) Have you switched to boxers?
MARY: OK, that's way too personal.
ANNIE: Sorry. I'm just trying to help. (smiling) What about you? Have you been showing him enough skin?
GEORGE: (quietly) Do you usually talk about this kind of stuff around your kids?
ANNIE: (ignores her fussing toddler) Come on, Mary. Give your husband a lap dance every once in a while. I mean, if you're going to conceive, you're going to have to put yourself in a--
MARY: Heh. Thank you for the lively conversation. Now, if you'll excuse us, we must walk away now.
GEORGE: (smiles and waves at Annie and her toddler) Bye-bye!
ANNIE: Wait! Have you two tried online adoption agencies? Come on! If you're going to trust God, you gotta give Him something to work with!
MARY: (stops in her tracks, turns around) All right, listen here, missy.
GEORGE: (quietly) Honey, go easy on her. She doesn't get it.
MARY: (sighs, to Annie) Thank you for your suggestion. However, what my husband and I long for isn't just to have a child.
ANNIE: (jiggles her fussing toddler) They really are a lot of work. And Mother's Day isn't all it's cracked up to be.
MARY: What my husband and I have been longing for is to conceive a child on our own. We want to have a child that has our DNA and who looks just like us.
ANNIE: I know just what you mean. Jack and I waited six whole months to conceive after we got married. The suspense was torture. (gasps in realization) You know what you need to do? You need to pray!
GEORGE: (gives in to temptation to respond sarcastically) Pray? Huh. We've never thought of that.
ANNIE: Name it and claim it! Let me pray for you right now. (closes eyes) In the name of Jesus, Lord, I declare that You are faithful, that You are powerful, and that You want Your children to be fruitful and multiply. Father, I ask that my friends George and Mary would conceive tonight. I declare that his seed would--
MARY: (covers ears, whispers) OK, that's still way too personal.
GEORGE: (blushes) Um, yes, Lord.
MARY: (uncovers ears) Um, thank You, Lord.
ANNIE: I declare, Lord, that You are the Solver of all of our problems! Amen!
MARY: Amen. (to George) Let's get out of here.
ANNIE: (opens eyes and smiles like a teenager) OK, you two. Let me know how it goes.
GEORGE: (smiles to Annie but talks to Mary under his breath) I kinda feel violated.
MARY: (to George, under her breath) I'm sorry, darling.
GEORGE: (walks away with his arm still around Mary) Just so you know, you are worth five million babies, at least. Children or no children, I'm glad I married you.
MARY: (whispers with a tear rolling down her cheek) You are not a piece of meat. You are not a reproduction machine. You are a human being with a heart, a brain, and a future. We have a wonderful life together, no matter what anyone else says.

Reader, I hope reading that didn't violate your eyeballs. I'm just trying to be descriptive. "Hey, Tirzah, are you dating anybody yet?" "No. Have you had any additional children since the last time I saw you?" I mean, really. Please stop and think before you ask such questions. Use a little bit of common sense. If Tirzah doesn't have a ring on her finger, the answer is probably no. If Tirzah doesn't have a lovesick-looking suitor holding her hand, the answer is probably no. If Tirzah doesn't wallpaper her Facebook timeline with boyfriend photos, the answer is probably no.

The answer has been no for 19 long years. I used to think that the datelessness didn't bother me anymore, but I guess something clicked tonight, the numbness gave way to a more normal flow of emotions, and the waterworks exploded all over again. Sigh. I feel better now that I've typed all that out, and I hope this opinion-explosion has been helpful information for you.

I have an awesome relationship with God that means more to me than anything else on this planet. Yes, He's pruned me down to the nub, to the point where I feel like I have nothing to lose after posting this kind of stuff and launching it into cyberspace. I do not wish to manipulate life-situations like I used to so that I can diffuse the pain. I wish to continue hoping, even if it means that I remain unintentionally single to the grave. I wish to be treated like a human being who has more to offer in this life than unused sexuality. I wish to learn how to tactfully change the subject like a civilized human being anytime the conversation makes me want to throw something.

Have I told you lately about my cats?