I don't know how or why or when. I sense this coming change, deep down to my toes.
When I consider the next year or two, a tiny hitch accompanies my thoughts. It tells me, things might not be the same. There might be other considerations.
It's true. There might be. Even so, I still make my plans and dream my dreams. No part of me is putting life on hold. The thought invades my consciousness and I acknowledge it.
I acknowledge there may be more to this than wishful thinking.
I've never thought about my singleness in these terms before. Though I want to get married and acknowledge I'm not entirely ready for all the changes a relationship will bring, I've never felt in my soul it could be around the corner.
There are people in my life who tell me, "you write a lot about singleness." I don't even know what this means. Because I don't say to them, "boy, you write a lot about marriage. Or parenting. Or breathing." I don't even think it.
Being single is not all of me. It's a demographic, a brief description on the checklist of who I am.
We write what we know. We write about our present seasons and situations and I am presently single.
A year or so ago, I decided to intentionally write about singleness once a month. Sometimes it filters its way into other posts but I wanted to intentionally examine some facet on a regular basis.
I write about what I wish I'd known a decade ago. I write to my high school self and I write about what singleness has taught me. I write about lessons learned from brief relationships. I write to remember I'm not alone in this. I write to encourage others and to hear "me, too." God bless solidarity.
There aren't many voices out there discussing how to be single well.
You could argue writing about singleness has become a passion of mine. I have a lot of thoughts on how to sift through good and bad advice and teaching. I have even more thoughts on the issues churches won't discuss and the ways singles are often left out.
When I think about marriage coming into my future, I also wonder what this means for me in terms of writing.
If I get married, should I no longer write about singleness?
The snarky part of me gets irritated when married (often at age 20) people give advice about singleness. But then, who am I to argue with the ways God will use me?
Let's read between these lines, however. I really want to know whether I've made the most of this time in my life. Whether I will continue making the most of my life. Have I sucked the marrow out? Have I enjoyed it as much as I could and should?
I want to visit my friends in Seattle, Boston, and Phoenix, drink wine in Paris, serve in an orphanage in Africa. I want to stay up too late with friends, even when we have to work the next morning, because the conversation is so rich and full. I want to book a last-minute getaway- just because I can. I want to cook meals only I enjoy. I want to spend a whole Saturday reading book after book and then discuss the meaning of life or respectfully debate politics at a coffee shop. I want to write my heart out on my sleeve.
I travel, I listen, I create. I take advantage of my independence each and every day. But have I done it enough?
Has God used my life for His glory?
How do I stay open to His calling no matter what I face?
I could be entirely wrong about this impression. I don't know if it's even wise to share it here. I'm not going to worry about any of it though.
I'm going to keep living my life. If marriage enters the equation, so be it. I will embrace the ups and downs marriage will bring into my life. If I remain single, I will continue to embrace its ups and downs.
In the meantime and regardless of outcome, I will write.
Small disclaimer for my family: I promise not to marry the first guy I meet on the street, unless he is ridiculously handsome and rich loves Jesus with all his heart. If this spidey sense is off kilter, I'll still keep keep living and dating and reading and drinking tea. Like I do.