The case for singleness.

Hey there ladies, can you do me a favor? Stop taking the break ups personally. I feel like guys don’t struggle with this. They seem to have a good grasp on all the other fish in the sea. But nope. Not us. We eat ice cream and cry ourselves to sleep wondering ‘what the heck is wrong with me?’. There is a scene in one of my favorite movies where one of the lead characters has just found out her husband is cheating on her. She is devastated but rationalizes her husband’s behavior and blames herself. She wasn’t as fun as she once was. She rushed him to get married and a long list of other inadequacies that led to his justified betrayal.


I’ve lost count of the tears spilled wondering where I went wrong. I was too much, or not enough. I did too much of this, but not enough of that. I’m not cured of this thinking, but geesh, do I want to be!


I read a study one time that stumbled upon the differences between men and women regarding their specific relationship fears. The women polled in this particular study claimed their worst fear was never getting married. The men in the study, however, were scared of marrying the wrong person. Why do you think that is? I won’t pretend to understand why men will struggle here. But, I hate that our brains don’t operate more like theirs. Instead Satan whispers, “you’ll always be alone”. And we believe it. The men can rationally recognize they will one day, in fact, drink from the cup of marriage. I imagine their fear dives deeper than I plan on going, but for arguments sake; why is it we focus more on whether we’ll be “enough”, instead of flipping the measuring stick around on the men?


I believe the deceiver has wrecked our gender with this very specific attack. He has convinced us in every area, we are completely and absolutely unworthy of everything. Our punishment? A life of singlehood to reflect on all the ways we have ever fallen short. Until recently the thought of ‘marrying the wrong guy’ never even crossed my mind. Does he love me? Great. Clearly, he’s the right one. That was easy.


The message we, as women, hear the world screaming in our ear is that we are second-class citizens if we have yet to land a rock on that pesky little ring finger. I am beyond guilty of buying into this thinking. If this message was on a shirt, it’d probably be in my closet in every color and cleverly accessorized. I am also, painfully aware of the fact this isn’t an imaginary message, or even a subliminal one, for that matter. Life begins at love. Then comes marriage. You see this in movies, books, and in the life of everyone around you. It is common knowledge that being single is lame. But, marriage is hard and certainly not something to be made worthy of an idol. That, nonetheless, we will keep to a whisper.


It’s like running a 5K. All the cool, in shape people are doing it. They’ll boast of their times and which ones they’ve competed in. They’ll even proudly display a picture of them with relatively no sweat on their brow. Their arms are raised high and they have a champion smile cherry on top. I like cherries. That looks great and I definitely want a neat picture like that. But, nobody talks about the energy spent training up to that moment when you dodge puking and don’t have to ice your knees after. Of course not. That part is hard work. That part sucks. We don’t race to race, we race to finish. For far too long, I’ve believed in a marriage finish line. Everybody come look at how good-looking my husband is. Doesn’t our story make you so jealous? Have you seen my ring? I stayed skinny throughout my pregnancy and my kids are contest worthy cute. I have never had any interest in training. Instead, I just wanted to finish.


It’s almost blasphemous to speak against marriage. Marriage is ordained by God. It was not good for Adam to be alone. Two is better than one. But it was brought to my attention, in a Tom Ascol sermon this weekend at Providence Church, that… are you sitting down? Marriage is important, but not ultimate. SINGLENESS is also ordained by God and this path less traveled, in the apostle Paul’s opinion, is by far the way to go.


Paul is not for or against marriage. Paul is not for or against singleness. And he makes it appropriately known that Jesus hadn’t spoken specifically on the subject, either. Yet, in 1 Corinthians, Paul is simply offering up his own opinions or, what I like to call, ‘The Case For Singleness’. In chapter 7, Paul begins to spell out reasons why we shouldn’t operate as if singleness is just a season we endure until our number comes up. Rather, it is something to be cherished and chosen.


My favorite and most convicting reason called to light in Paul’s letter, regarding seizing our single season (say that five times fast), is that we have the opportunity right now to pursue God with undivided interests and energies. Single means I am able to seek and serve the Lord completely and without distraction. It will only get harder from this point. Instead of being concerned with matters of the Lord, I’ll eventually be commanded by scripture to ALSO love and respect my husband and put the needs of him and my children ahead of my own…every time. I will no longer be able to make decisions that only affect me. As long as I remain single, I will only ever have less to lay down.


Why don’t people talk about this? Singleness isn’t something to be feared. It is a time in your life to be treasured, to enjoy. It is from God AND FOR MY GOOD.


This epiphany has brought me to my next point. All my single ladies… (I had to, sorry), let us stop wasting our life. Let’s capture what it looks like to be romanced by the only Man in our lives. Precious Father, show us what it feels like to be pursued, this way, we can rightfully laugh off all the lame attempts that will ultimately cross our paths. Let us, let Him put us back together. May we be a generation that rises up to be focused on matters of the Lord. I desperately want to seize this opportunity to be single. Think like a dude, statistically, it won’t be like this forever. I imagine, though, I’ll be a far greater wife and mother if I am a good steward of my single walk alongside the Lord.


Care to join me in breaking this taboo? What are you passionate about? What do you desire in the deep dark undiscovered places of your heart? In what ways has God gifted you? What are you good at? What do you delight in? Are you using those passions to glorify Him?


Are you seizing your singleness? And not begrudgingly or because it will be a means to propel yourself out of your current relationship status. Instead, I pray when you read Paul’s account in 1 Corinthians 7:25-40, you’ll find yourself so pumped about being in this specific place and time and season. Let’s train hard and be disciplined now, that way we won’t have to, one day, ice our married knees.

Prince Hubby of Fallsshortalot. Chapter 7- part one.

I’ll attempt to prove my idea that until we learn to seek God for all, our husbands (current and in our dreams) will only ever fall short. These poor husbands and husbands-to-be are walking around with ginormous shoes to fill. Cut them some slack. Marriage is awesome, or so I’ve been told. I’ve also been told it is stinkin’ hard work. What I know to be true, is that marriage is a gift from God. He saw that Adam was alone and it was not good. I believe Jack Johnson when he says, we’re better together. But for 25 years, I worshiped the ‘husband will fix all my issues’ idol. Waaa, waa, waaaaah. Update on the last yearish of my life, I did not pass Go and did not collect $200.

I remember one of my crying spells was triggered by a silly (but gorgeous) West Elm shelf. I tried to hang it myself and despite my efforts it turned out horribly. I dreamed of ending my night impressing myself with my wall creation and instead was left with gigantic holes in my wall that I have yet to repair. This, is clearly, a justifiable reason to yell at God. These holes are a reminder to me, that look as hard as you might, but you will not find a ‘man of the house’. How depressing?

My ex fiancé could change my breaks, remodel a house, and drive a boat… yet here I sit with a pot rack that I bought months ago and have yet to hang. Let’s not even talk about how hilarious it would’ve been to be a fly on the wall watching me take my 42” flat screen out of the box and hoist it on my entertainment center. I thought surely it would end with me spilling tears over a cracked screen. I’ll make my point. Men are handy. However what is completely false, is the lie that once I land one, we’ll run around like a ‘Sun Chip’ commercial. Life will be colorful, we’ll smile a lot and always look good on camera.

A husband, a good Jesus-loving, hard-working one, will most definitely make life taste sweeter. But picture this, I seek God first and the Cinderella castle will be given to me. I believe the correct translation is ‘Kingdom of God’ and so that might be borderline offensive. But a little true, yes? Guys are like chocolate chip cookies. If you time it just right, you’re in for a delicious treat. But in this yummy metaphor, God is the coldest most amazing refreshing glass of milk. You could probably live off of chocolate chip cookies, but you’d finish out more days than none parched. First comes God, then comes marriage. (Go ahead and finish out the rest of the childhood rhyme,, otherwise you’ll sing it for the rest of the day…)

I don’t know how to just yet, but I have a plan in mind. I plan on linking up to Jesus, mosquito style, making sure to get my fill on His everlasting love. I want to sit at His feet, drink from the cup in His hand. Lay back against Him and breathe, feel His heart beat. His love is so deep. It’s more than I can stand. I melt in His peace. It’s overwhelming.

Okay, I stole those lines from a song. But, serious face. If I am so upside down deeply in love with God, then the hole in my heart is not as great a feat to fill for the hubster. I can’t help but think, he’ll thank me for it.

I can remember getting dumped by a boy after three months of dating and feeling like my world was over. I drove home as quickly as I could, because let’s me honest… Moms make it better. But, my dad was the first to greet me. I laid it out for him and leaned back waiting for the puffying up to start. “You’re better than him. He doesn’t deserve you.” Instead I was met with a brutal… “You have too much baggage.” Again, previous example. Daddys are good for fixing cars, but maybe not so much lying to ease pain. Like salt to the wound, I probably cried harder and louder. But there is truth in it. Even the best of us, won’t dodge the baggage of this world.

Early boyfriends taught me that love was not a thing to be trusted in… even if they were clever enough to make me feel like I was the only girl. The lesson here was that boys cheat.

Another boyfriend believed I was a good thing, but it never seemed enough for him. No matter what I did to try and earn his love, there would always be someone better out there for him. The suitcase I picked up on that trip was packed full of insecurity.

There was an amazing man that traveled across my path. I needed him to fall hard and fast, but he definitely never got that same memo. He was everything I never knew I wanted. It’s unclear to me, if the real life boy even resembled the one I had built up in my head but tragically I wasn’t enough of something he was looking for. Because this boy drove away too. Now, I’ve got a carry-on full of ‘unworthiness” to add to my collection.

Another man, didn’t know how to show emotion and eventually I stopped asking it of him. Though, I wasn’t sure what I had done, I knew it had to be something awful for him to not want to have a relationship with me. And when I would seek him, I was sent away on a sailboat of annoyance. Earning his favor proved a lost cause.

The crown of this unlovable creation ends a few days from a wedding. I didn’t feel worthy of his pursuit. Desiring romance was a needy pest of a thing I needed to learn to live without. Followed painfully by a person shattering rejection.

These men left me with scars; some deeper and more painful than others… all of them costing me a fortune in baggage fees. I was taught by experience that I am forgettable. Love has only ever been a conditional thing in my life. Love is secretive. Love is jealous. Love is ugly and painful. There are definitely no happy endings in store, unless you don’t eat chocolate when times are tough and travel light.

The very worst of my fears came true. And it justified every single lie about myself I had ever believed.

Rejection Reflection, chapter 2-part one.

Rejection. Everyone will experience it. Jesus, even tasted its bitterness.

For me, heart break, hardships or any sort of rejection meant burying it deep and never looking back. Success is forgetting. Dysfunction is something triggering all those yucky feelings and painfully reminding you that you are still as wounded as the day it happened. The moon walk is the only notation in history where back tracking actually looks cool and even that is questionable. There are nasty life changing events in my past that I can, to this day, talk about with relatively zero emotion. Block out, move forward. Repeat. It’s all fun and games until you’re a shut in a year later, with ten cats (or in my case an adorable pup) and absolutely no desire to do anything else but clean out your DVR while eating chocolate chip cookie dough. Rock bottoms for me come often and out of no where. I seem to mass produce ruts that I can’t climb out of. That’s where not dealing with the junk gets you. You know how in middle school, they show you a picture of the ugliest toothless woman and explain that this is how you’ll look if you smoke? Well, hopefully my life will look as scary as that to you. Don’t be like me, or you’ll lose your teeth.

The enemy is ‘not dealing’, so after a couple more rock bottoms I decided to give this whole ‘dealing with junk’ thing a shot. On my path to conquering, some inclines seemed too much to bare at times. It’s like someone rung me out like a towel and drained any ounce of willingness to exist from my miserable heart. All I did was sleep. I broke commitments and avoided friends. I lacked energy and appetite. (I wished the no appetite season lasted long enough to shed annoying lbs.)

I was depressed.

On a side bar, I would like to add salt to the wound by noting the guilt and shame I felt for being a depressed Christian. It was impossible to tell where conviction started and self condemnation began. I remember journaling and crying out to God for forgiveness believing that I shouldn’t feel this way. Those who look to him are radiant (Ps 34:5). Those who seek the Lord lack no good thing (Ps 34:10).

It took me way too long to realize and give the depression I was feeling a name: Bondage. A dreaded heavy thing I carried around my neck keeping me from experiencing any sort of freedom in Christ. I couldn’t feel God’s love. I couldn’t hear His voice. I was convinced He had abandoned ship, realizing that my healing was too great a feat, especially without my willingness to surrender.

Break up your unplowed ground; for it is time to seek the Lord, Hosea 10:12. This was, for me, a picture of relief. I didn’t need to get over the hurt today, tomorrow.. there was absolutely no timeline or agenda. But I was called to seek the Lord immediately and often.

My work day can get overwhelming. Most days it would seem my To Do List (via sticky notes) could wrap the world over twice. These are the days I can either cope by playing on facebook while my dreadful deeds add up, or I can take one bite at a time. Payments, check. Invoices, check. Pretty soon, it’s peace-out-sauerkraut time and I accomplished it all with my sanity in tack.

Slow and steady wins the race. Paul talks about racing in the New Testament. I like Paul. I also like David. He wrote the Psalms. I spent months in the Psalms letting King David say everything for me because I was without.

Here are a few truths I wrote down and repeated often until I finally believed them. God gives us relief from our distress (Psalm 4:1) and He, nothing else, fills us with joy (Psalm 16:11). He has promised to turn our puffy eyes into dance parties (Psalm 30:11-12). That same verse says that we will be clothed with joy. And you don’t have to tell this lady twice. I love shopping and I hope my shirts of joy make me look skinny. And even us, tone deaf folk, will feel like doing karaoke in His presence.

It’s important to know that even standing on these truths, doesn't always stop the bad days from sneaking up on you. They just will hopefully remind you to close your laptop, put down the cookie dough and spend your night allowing the God of the universe to love on you.

Matters of the heart.

Matters of the heart

Colossians 3:1 says to set your hearts on things above. I don’t think this to be a suggestion. I believe it is a requirement of genuine conversion. Jeremiah 24:7 tells me I was given a heart to know God, by believing in the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit. Matthew 6:21 challenges me to question where my treasure is. Further saying that is where you will find my heart. I mean, would anybody enjoy answering that question aloud for people to hear? I would not. But if I’m honest, it’s written in my actions. It’s painted across my agendas.

Matthew 6:19 makes it clear what will happen to any treasures I attempt to store on earth. Could I then imply any time spent not treasuring God is a waste?

The parable of the hidden treasure in Matthew 13:44, has always bothered me deeply. The above commands, though hard to exude, are not rocket science. Treasure heavenly things, live eternally minded. I’m not great at it, but I get it God. But then He loses me.. “The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field.”

This man found the treasure and then did what? Hid it here on earth where it would perish. Ugh, you just told me not to store up treasures on earth… now you’re telling me where to hide it?

I had it wrong. I was focused on the work, the action of it all. Not the faith behind his hiding spot. But, tonight I picked up something new and very exciting. This information was key to unlocking the beauty of this “Treasure” scripture speaks of. It’s not in what he did, but more of what he found. The treasure in the field is the fellowship of God in Christ. (John Piper) The direct result of finding this treasure was ecstatic, unspeakable, life changing… JOY.

And if I can, allow me to travel right back to Colossians 3. I wondered why Paul writes not only to set your hearts on things above, but to also set your minds on things above. Even though, I am a victim of the same verbiage, I question why the use of both? We do whatever we make up our little minds up to do. We rationalize lies. We Christianize idols. We have this silly beating heart that gets blame for a lot of stuff, when all it really exists to do is pump blood. But better even, the heart paints a picture of love. The heart seems to be the center of our emotions. And I believe now, what Paul is saying by ‘setting your heart’ is none other than to love. The man in the parable fell in love with his treasure.

I am afraid to admit, for far too long I have known God with my mind, often missing out on the experience of loving Him with my heart.

Ode to the discovery of Treasure.

The greatest Love.

I believe in Eve. I believe in beauty. A woman’s heart is a tiny glimpse of the Mother of all life and the tenderness she has passed down through the generations. I wonder what it would’ve been like to be on a coffee date with Eve. It would be purely intoxicating to listen to the stories of each and every passionate, undisturbed, vulnerable moment spent with the Lord. What would it look like to love God for who He is? How different would my life be if my hand could rest in His? I’d desperately want to learn the lines of his face, or count the specks in his eyes.

If I squint I can almost make out her vibrant beating heart as I sit across the table listening to her speak of her greatest Love--a Love that she knows personally and to no bounds. She is healthy, she is loved, and there is pure joy pulsing through her veins. It looks as if she might explode. There are no scars in need of mending. There is no worry on her mind. There are no tears to wipe, or pieces to pick up.

But then I blink and am back in a room with wounded souls, cursed to desire the above, yet walk and drink and talk of sorrow. I wonder how much more we can bare on these frail earthly backs. And the silly thing about women, is no matter their load.. they’ll make room for yours too. A woman can be burdened down and toppled over with hardship, but let them hear of your hurt and without missing a beat, they’ll toss your load to the top of their stack and continue on.

But even in the brokenness there is a fire. It can completely illuminate a room and I’ve seen it do so. On a night such as this, when women gather to share their hearts, their struggles, and their victories it’s as if a beacon of light shoots straight out of the ceiling and into the heavens as far as the eye can see.

We don’t know why, or what. We’re scared, broken, bruised, exhausted and without. But we will walk in the footsteps of faith. May we trust Him, not because we have no other option but because He is worthy of it. We will fight for joy amidst the pain. We will set our hearts on the hope to which we have been given. Let us desire Him with a fierceness that does not fade. Sweet one, let Him hold your heart. The weight is heavy and the road is tough, but He is near to the broken.

Praying for you.

Community does a body good :)

Tonight I met with some amazing ladies.. ladies on a mission, my favorite kind. There isn’t much more beautiful a sight than women coming together with one heart, passion and mission. It will be exciting to enter into a partnership with these gals.

It’s been no shocker to anyone around me that (though I’d like to think I hide it well) I am in a rut. Break ups can do it to ya, but more so can lack of community. I can remember very early on in my Christian walk reading this silly Christian book (I am calling it silly, because really I’m just jealous that other people have actually accomplished such a task and I have not). The author seemed to have a plethora of great friendships to surround him, encouraging him and the like. At the time, I did not. I wanted to throw the book across the room. Sure, this life, this walk by faith was easy for him… he’s got help, lots of it. That night I argued with God. I tested Him. And literally almost overnight the seed’o’community blossomed. That next morning a blonde college student walked into the surf shop I was managing and asked if I wanted to go to church with her—more specifically their college ministry. I was in a bible study within a week and the friends I made in that season (7ish years ago) are some of the dearest people in the world to me.

What this says to me, is that God takes community very seriously. Real quick, let’s unpack that “churchy” word. Community is basically a circle of people that you can do life with, be vulnerable around, encourage, challenge, love, pray and cry with.

For me, being dumped right before your wedding was a huge embarrassment. Now, unavoidably to all who knew me I was damaged and wounded. To know me was to pity me, whether the case, I felt like all eyes were on the broken Christian girl to see how she would respond. I’d like to think I rebounded well enough.. it only strengthened my walk with Christ. I trust God now with a fierceness I had not known I was capable of. I say all of this to confess almost a year later, I see where the wreckage took place. I withdrew myself from community. I opted out of being vulnerable. It just seemed easier and less bothersome to have a breakdown in private.

Here’s what I’m pleading you this evening, find authentic community and anchor yourself deep within it. The truth of the good news in Christ is that we aren’t perfect, we’re actually pretty stinking messy. We are broken, ugly, and dysfunctional but Jesus has reconciled us to the Father… so thankfully I don’t have to put on my perfect Christian face every morning… so thankfully I can cry for help and watch as a team rallies around me and for me… so thankfully, thankfully, thankfully.

I was fortunate enough to have community around me, I just chose to shut it out for a bit; however if you are trying to do life on your own right now, please prayerfully consider joining us this next Monday, May 10th. We are getting a women’s group of out-of-college-single-20-somethings together to go through the book of Colossians. Email/facebook me for more details.

(Didn’t mean to turn this into a commercial, lol.. but hey? If it works.)

Hope deferred.

I possess a sort of broken record spirit. Hardship, triumph and yet another hardship. Can a girl catch a break here, God?

It feels as though I’m hand and hand with God walking straight toward my heart’s desire, but then the road makes a sudden and jagged turn away from what I long for… what He promised. Our grip is tested as I try to continue the previous course. There is a soreness in my heart as the space between us grows. Our arms are now stretched to their full reach, I can feel the tightness in my whole body. I go limp. I surrender. He never lets go, His grip only tightens. I’m frustrated with Him. I cry out. Unable to look Him in the eye, instead I watch as the end to my fairy tale moves from forefront to side glance. He pulls me up, grabs me close and whispers, “Trust me”.

I do trust You, but why are You leading me this way? What I want is the other direction, Lord. Don’t You love me?

This time His voice is a little louder, “Be patient”. There is a sternness in His voice that I cannot deny, yet His eyes are kind. It's as if they are saying.. I love you, I made you. I know what is best for you. Just walk with me.

I imagine I am Abraham, and so surely I will sacrifice my precious promise because I worship a God who will bring it back to life. And so with that, I turn away from what I thought I knew. I quicken my step so that I am back in sync with my Redeemer.

I don’t understand any of it… but I’m standing through it all. I don’t always feel the right way, but I get around to it. I am thankful for a God who has been to the end of my life and who knows exactly what is ahead and what I can bare. He knows exactly how to be glorified most in me, and is holding my hand as we walk through it all. I am so thankful for God’s word and how it comes to life precisely when I need it most. I am thankful for a stability in Christ that is not shattered through a trial but strengthened.

Hope deferred can make a heart sick, but God is greater than our hearts and He knows everything.




Please pray for my grandma.