I’ve been thinking about relationships a lot lately.
I know, I know. Single Christian college girl blogging about wanting to be in a relationship? I feel like such a cliche right now.
But it’s been on my mind and on my heart.
I am not promised a husband. The Lord has not promised me a husband – not in the Bible, nor has He told me personally that His plan for my life includes marriage (unlike one of my dear friends, lucky duck, who knows she is getting married. Little jealous. Not gonna lie). I have no reassurance that it will ever happen – in fact, the only thing I’ve ever heard from God on the subject is that I needed to accept the fact that I might not have a husband. That hurt, folks.
That has not stopped me from desiring a relationship. Most people do, I think. Especially single 20-year-old Christian college bloggers, and I am no exception to that particular cliche. As with many other members of the single-college-girl club, I tend to despair my lack of relationships.
Single. Always have been. (Always will be?)
I have decided that I will be the coolest spinster ever. I’m going to breed guinea pigs and be that cool aunt-that’s-not-actually-related, and all my friend’s kids will love me because I make the best cookies.
I joke about this frequently. It’s a lot easier to joke about being an old maid than it is to admit how badly my heart longs for a husband. To admit how fearful I am that I will never be married.
Because honestly, who could love me that much?
Who could possibly see something beautiful in me? Who would be willing to put up with all my flaws and sin and brokenness? Who could love me so much they would promise to be with me forever?
And then God whispered, I do.