Statement 1: I am 24. And single. And a girl.
Statement 2: So are a lot of people.
Statement 3: Not all of us are waiting anxiously for a spouse.
I’ll tell you the truth. I live in a big house with two roommates that live with me. They’re married and older than me and they let me call them mom and dad. They actually don’t live with me. I live with them.
I make very, very little money working in a messy corner of my room at a pitiful little desk I tried to make less pitiful by renaming it an office space and nailing some 97¢ clipboards to the wall.
I should be lonely. I should be sad. I should be on the lookout for a man to rescue me from the failure-to-launch life I seem to be living.
But if Frozen taught me anything, it’s that you don’t need a prince to save you.
(You need a King. The Bible taught me that, but that’s not the point right now)
*Seven women will beg the same man, making this offer, “Let us all marry you! We will take care of ourselves. Let us be your wives. Give us something to live for—give us a child. Take away our shame. Our disgrace. Our reproach. Our stigma. Marry us so we won’t be mocked.
This is from an old book called Isaiah. There is a rich historical context to it and I’m sure a Scholar somewhere will wipe their sweaty palms on their argyle sweater vest and faint when they read what’s next: I’m going to take this out of its context and apply it elsewhere.
Gasp. It’s okay, calm down.
Here’s its new home: in the minds of every church person ever when they see any woman without a ring sitting alone on Sunday.
Here’s what those seven women are saying, “The shoes on my feet, I bought it, the clothes I’m wearing, I bought it, the rock I’m rockin’, I bought it. ‘Cause I depend on me, but-please-marry-me-so-no-body-makes-fun-of-me.”
What? How does that even make sense?
Hint: it doesn’t.
I’m aware that when this was written if a lady didn’t have a husband or a kid she basically didn’t exist. But remember, we’re living in the minds of modern day church people right now. Single, non-mother people are counted as regular people on the Census and have jobs and everything.
I just got back from Haiti. The, “Are you married,” question came up while talking with a pastor we visited. To those of us who didn’t raise our hands he said, “Next time I hope you are able to introduce me to your husband.”
It was a striking moment. I don’t think it was for anyone else. But I thought Is this guy not happy meeting me. I flew all the way from America to talk to him and I didn’t even have to have my dad sign a permission form to leave the country. I can also drive and read books and do all sorts of things without a husband to encourage me to live a complete life.
Now it’s time to give you a disclaimer: I think marriage is great. I have married friends that I watch enviously while we’re out doing things and think It’s precious the way he loves her. And that girl really knows how to treat her husband. I’m glad I know them.
What doesn’t happen is me watching from the back corner of life thinking Man when I get my husband, we’re going to do real people things too. I’m finally going to be able to live a real life.
That does not happen. Watching them enviously doesn’t mean I want their life or that I am not living mine. It means that one day maybe I’ll get married. One day I’ll meet the one. He probably won’t sweep me off my feet because I’m 5’8’’ but he’ll be great and we’ll spend great days together and do fun things.
In the meantime I’m going to Haiti, visiting babies in Mexico, working on my businesses, writing down stories, taking road trips with friends, spending time with my family, and loving God.
There is no in the meantime it’s just called life.
Sure, I’m single. Sure I’ll probably marry my own personal Prince Charming one day (I’m more of a Flynn Rider kind of girl, but that’s just me). But I’m not waiting for him. And I’m certainly not looking for him.
Relationship status: Single, not looking.
*A combination of several different translations of Isaiah 4:1