An Elegant Sufficiency: Part One

I never really categorized myself as a single until I was in my late 20’s. I mean, I certainly wasn’t married, and didn’t even date all that much, but I never felt single. Singleness, I always assumed, meant that you were lacking something in your life and therefore were not complete. I had no spouse; therefore I should have been pining away with longing for someone, right? But I didn’t pine. I was fine being where I was in life, and was in no rush to tie the knot. Therefore I was just me. Yeah, I was unmarried, but I wasn’t single.

When I hit the latter part of my 20’s, I started thinking that it was possible that life could be more enjoyable if I had someone to serve and share it with. Since all my friends were married or spread out all over the world, it naturally led me to realize that marriage can be a building block for community. I mean, your spouse will never leave you unless they die, right? Marriage started to sound more attractive. And then I panicked. Did that make me a “single”? Was I now incomplete, a left-over, one of the ones who didn’t get chosen when everyone else was picking teams? Did I miss the deadline? I have to admit that although I had always been fairly level-headed and intellectual about the dating and mating process (God does everything in His time, right?), these new realizations and longings kind of threw me into a panic for awhile. I did NOT want to be single. Socially awkward, fifth-wheelish, desperate, thinking only about how lonely I was. Because that’s the stereotype, right? And really, that’s kind of how you get treated by married folks sometimes. You catch pitying stares once in awhile, and when making new acquaintances, it’s almost like you have to list your excuses for not being married YET.

In my mind, I thought that being single would take over my whole life. And I’ve seen that it can, really. There are people who are obsessed with finding the “right” one to spend the rest of their lives with. They date constantly, always talk about the opposite sex, or complain bitterly about their married friends and how they don’t have time for them or hurt their feelings on a regular basis. They discuss the wisdom of various dating techniques—the blind date, speed dating, internet dating. They worry about their appearance, their income, and their vehicles, always wanting to give the “right” impression, just in case “he” or “she” could show up unexpectedly and be wildly attracted to them because of their shoe brand or the appearance of their toenails. These people seem to think that marriage is a right, like freedom of speech or freedom to bear arms, and the idea of finding a mate consumes their lives.

If we listen to what the world says, even the Christian world sometimes, we might believe that singles are doomed to a perpetual adolescence—we cannot achieve true maturity without a mate. We could believe that we have to be the “right” kind of person before we can attract Mr. or Ms. Right. Or that there is only one right person out there for everyone, and if you happen to be looking the other direction when you pass him or her on the sidewalk one day, you totally lose out. Media tells us constantly that only the most beautiful are truly worthy of love and desire. And the music we hear on the radio, pumped willingly into our brains through our ipods, or everywhere, really, can often remind us that loneliness is the worst thing in the world and that we need to avoid it at all costs.

I have to admit that I have at one time or another, fallen prey to almost all of these lies and noxious behaviors. Bitterness, complaining, despair, anxiety, and hopelessness have all accompanied me at times on this journey of discovering desire. I didn’t know what to do with my longing. If I want something, I should have it, right? But when I started to sift through the maelstrom of thoughts and impressions that I was dealing with, I started to notice something interesting—all of it was about me—what I needed to do or hadn’t done, and who would make me feel good about myself. I was worried that I had missed something, that I wasn’t attractive enough, that I should be married so that I could be happy. Obviously, I had not been paying any attention at all during all my hours at church, reading the Bible, and praying. Who is life about anyway? Me? Heck no! In Colossians, Paul very explicitly explains what all this Jesus business is about:

“He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. . .For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross (Colossians 1:15-17,19-20).”

Okay, well, that puts me in my place. I was created by Him and for Him; therefore, that makes my life about Whom, exactly? Yeah, I didn’t think it was me, either. Really, I didn’t. And did you notice the part that says, “. . . in him all things hold together”, and that through the death of Jesus he “reconcile[d] to himself all things”? That’s kind of a big deal—it means that Jesus holds the world together, holds my heart, my mind, and my future. And he brings his peace and reconciliation! How great is that!