This one is entirely personal. If
you’ve been around me in the past month or two. I’ve been on a soap box. That is, I’ve had the chance to share with a steady voice
about my journey through the study of singleness and the church. You’ve probably also heard me say, that
is, if you’ve been around me—that I finally feel like I’m settling into what it
is to be a single person. Hold
on—let me say it again more clearly—I’m comfortable and I’m happy as a single
person.
It may seem like
“I’m just saying that” but no—I really am very… content. I had some of my favorite people in the
world around this past weekend.
These two women are like sisters to me. They are both married (one for two and a half years, one for
five months). We had a lovely time drinking wine, watching girly movies, and
going out for dinner. I loved
having them here.
There were two
conversations that seemed to pertain in particular to my study. In a way I was anticipating
them—because we have had them before—but I listened with different ears this
time around. The first: “There are
certain things I would have no idea how to deal with if my husband wasn’t
around. Jennie you are so
independent—and that is truly amazing.”
And the second (over the course of a couple conversations): “A co-worker
told me that she doesn’t get why you’re single—you’re so confident with who you
are”—and similarly—“once you’re settled—maybe you can think about meeting
someone on-line.”
The first statement,
I think, was intended as a compliment and I took it as one. I do a lot of thinking through things
on my own. And not only do I think
through things on my own—I act on things on my own. The thought though, that I’m completely independent, is
false. I lean into my
community. And so if heavy things
need to be lifted I find someone.
If my computer is broken I call my brother. If I have a car problem I’d call dad or find the nearest
shop. I’m independent—but I don’t
think I’m more independent than anyone else who has a group of trusted loved
ones near by. And I’m also
dependant in many, many ways.
Do I think life
would be more convenient if I had an immediate partner? Yes. Probably it would be nice to have someone to go to at every
turn. Someone to help with
personal finances or do the dishes at the end of the day or a sounding board
for big decisions, etc… but I have those things already. People in my community
fill in the functions of a spouse in terms of partnership. And I have companionship. What I don’t have is a partner to be
intimate with—and all of the things that come with that. But on that note—I
don’t know what I’m missing—really.
(A side note: I find it
interesting that people in general assume that single hetero-sexual women don’t
have a sex life. Most adult human
beings have sex lives. Mine of
course has boundaries around it—as it should—because of the trajectory of my
vocation.)
So back to the
second assertion from my friends.
Precisely, this business about finding someone on line (or really, any
one at all one day). Again, I so
appreciate their intentions. But seriously, if marriage is a vocation—is it
everyone’s path in life? So maybe
I’ll be single. What is with the
expectation that I should desire to change my state? I remember telling my dad years and years ago that I’d be
okay if I was single. I have two
aunts that are single. They are
just fine. I know some single
pastors. I have single friends,
men and women, young and old—and nothing is “wrong” with them. They simply are—either by choice or
because of things beyond their control.
Does society really expect that a single twenty something professional
woman ought to want to get married and have kids?
In truthfulness I
think about what being married would be like. I romanticize it sometimes—and then at other times, I look
to my married friends to realize that it is so much more than just a romantic
friendship that makes life easier.
I have no doubt that life could perhaps be even more complicated by
marriage. I also have no doubt
that there can be a lot of happiness in married life. (I can look at my parents and tell you that.) I also believe that single people can
be happy.
Again, I think about
the children that aren’t there—or may never be—I think about having children of
my own sometimes—but I also don’t lament not having them yet. I have heard from married friends
without children that they also have expectations thrust upon them to be
parents—because naturally, after you get married—children are “the next thing.”
How do we help to
encourage one another without putting our own hopes and expectations for a
person on to them. I may be
single. I might get married. But either way, I hope I’m living into
the work of the day. I hope that I’m
as comfortable with myself then as I feel now. I would hope that I would be happy and surrounded by a
community that could support me or keep me from being lonely, whether married
or single.