On Love (and Singleness)

Well, dear readers, I sent out the call on Instagram and asked you what you wanted to read about. The first response was Israel--I've covered that quite extensively, starting here. The second response was love, and thus, I have written you what is hopefully a substantially well-thought and opinionated article on singleness. So without further ado, here you are!

I recently wrote a letter to my future husband.

It was an honest letter, a letter about how I’m currently kind of a mess and probably still will be when we get married. It was also about my baby fever and what would happen if we never had kids. I listed out all of the things that would be possible without children, all of the ways our lives would be rich and full. I did this for myself, not for him, because I need to really chew on these things for a while.

Good news—life is still fun even without kids. I think I am the only person on whom this fact was lost.

Writing that letter, though, made me excited for marriage. I’ve never been someone who put all my hope in guys—I have other idols—but truthfully, I think my husband’s love is gonna blow my mind a little bit. I think being married is gonna be awesome, that it’ll be great fun no matter where our lives take us, and that even the hardness of it will nourish our souls.

But today, I am single, solidly so, and not making plans to change that anytime soon. So when someone suggested I write about love, I was very prepared to think outside of the box on that one.

Usually, love equals romance. That’s the connotation that comes with the word in our culture, even sometimes in the evangelical subculture I live within. It conjures up images of Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, the Eiffel Tower amidst a starlit Paris, and Taylor Swift strumming mournfully on her guitar. And I like all of those things! But right now, I have a much different perspective on love.

My freshman year at Moody, I attended a workshop on ministering to those who struggle with same-sex attraction. The man who led it was himself a celibate struggler. He spoke with a fascinating accent—a combination of Indonesian and Swedish, if I remember correctly—and a good sense of humor, perfect for the potentially loaded material he was presenting. And he waxed eloquent for an hour on the two gifts: singleness and marriage.

His exposition on biblical marriage was spectacular. One could tell he had a profound reverence for the subject and a satisfaction in the beauty of it. Marriage was not his situation and yet he loved it, loved that God instituted it for His glory and the pleasure of His people. The man reminded us of the mystery of marriage, that it represents the glorious union of Christ and His Church. Married people, he said, get to illustrate this mystery to the world.

Single people, he continued, get to skip the illustration.

I was awestruck.

I listened intently as he explained that single people get the gift of loving Christ and the Church openly and directly. They are free to pour themselves out for and commune with Jesus and His people in the way that we all will in eternity. There is only one marriage in heaven and it’s the one all Christians are called to, no matter their relationship status. Single people can engage in this marriage immediately, channeling all their energy into the glories of relationship with Christ and His people.

Sitting in that auditorium, I came the closest I ever had to a heart-understanding of God’s plan for singleness.

And then I forgot.

In the meantime, though, I spent 13 months working with the women of Smith 4, who became some of my favorite people on the planet, and I realized I wanted to do women’s ministry. Then, I applied to be an RA and signed a contract in March to do life alongside the Houghton 7 North girls. And I fell in love, completely and utterly in love with the work God had given me to do.

This may sound stereotypical, like an excuse for not dating. But truly, the place I have been called to right now is worth too much to give up even a little bit of it for a man.

I do not expect that this will always be true. Statistics and my own personality lead me to reasonably suspect that one of these days, there will be a man who comes in and turns my head enough that it would be stupid not to marry him. I am watching that happen with some of my friends, and I am thrilled for them. Today, though, that is not where God has me, and I am still so very fulfilled. More fulfilled, I truly believe, than I would be in a relationship.

I hope that doesn’t sound trite. Because believe me, I know the triteness and cliches that come with Christian singleness. I’ve had my share of older women coming up to me and saying, as if it was a promise from Scripture, “God is gonna send you a great man someday.” I have listened to the lectures—and given them myself—on intimacy with Jesus and how it will satisfy every longing. But these days I question whether these statements are either helpful or true. They make singleness out to be a kind of purgatory between childhood and marriage—monotonous, painful, and less than. They forget the joy, celebration, effectiveness--and yes, love--that accompanies singleness in Scripture. Why would Paul have said, “It is good to remain single as I am” (1 Corinthians 7:8 ESV) unless it really is good? Triteness over singleness does a disservice to the Church in its entirety, both married and single.

Because yes, I will probably get married someday, and if I do, it will be to a wonderful man. And yes, the more intimacy with Jesus I have, the more satisfied I am with life and the place He has called me to right now. AND—my singleness is a good thing, for the sake of the Church, the gospel, and my own fulfillment. It is not a prison to be rescued from; it is a position to meet Jesus in, just like marriage.

I have found that there is immense love contained within the gift of singleness. Singleness does not necessitate loneliness. Often, it means to be surrounded by invested relationships, pouring into and receiving from the Body of Christ.

Even as I write this, I know there are those who may read it and only feel pain. Singleness does present a unique challenge that I don’t believe the Church has entered into very well. I believe there is a call to action implied in many of Paul’s exhortations to both singles and married people, including the one in 1 Corinthians 7:8.

To singles, I think the call can be summed up in Galatians 6:9: “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” While this is a call to all Christians, married or single, I believe that it is exactly what singles specifically need to hear at times. Maybe it’s just me, but as an unmarried person, I sometimes feel that I lack some of the necessary support and intimacy needed for the task of serving Jesus, and it can feel easier to give up instead of pressing on to see the gospel taken to the ends of the earth. Which is why this verse, like 1 Corinthians 7:8, is a not at all easy--and also so very important. Our call is to invest, deeply and intentionally, in Christ’s Church. We have the privilege and freedom to care tenderly for the Bride—and for most of us, this position can easily be taken away, at any moment when God chooses to move us into marriage.

Jesus was single and I am quite certain He can empathize with the struggles that it brings. He has the credibility to call us to this life. So be faithful in your walk with Him. Invest in your local expression of the Body. Help married people practically by investing in them and their children. Be like God and love with wild abandon, because you can.

There is a challenge for married people (and people who are preparing for marriage), too, and it’s perhaps more countercultural than the challenge for singles: Welcome single people. I know a couple who currently live with and do ministry alongside a single woman. My parents have done the same thing, a few times. I’m not saying all married couples should have singles move in with them (although it might not hurt ;), but I do believe all married couples are called to have a hand in carrying the burden of singleness. Singles should not be lonely—but often they will be as long as married people fail to notice them. So invite them to your small group. Have them over for dinner. Share your home and your life with them. Be like God and make them a part of your family.

This is love. Yes, sometimes it looks like romantic comedies and trips to Paris—but more often, it looks like celebrating the life each one of us has been given, whether married or single. Love is laying down our comfort and energy for one another, pouring ourselves out so that each one can gain the abundant life Christ so deeply desires for us. If we continue in this mission above everything else, singleness may well start to look like what it is: a loving gift from our heavenly Father, intended for abundant life.