I have a confession to make. I don’t really believe that the Bible is true. I do believe that it is the inspired word of God, that it is all truth, but I don’t really believe it. Throughout my life, God has often impressed on my Jeremiah 29:11: “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” Now, I’ve gone to church my whole life. I’ve believed that God is all-powerful and can do anything. Yet somehow I have a hard time believing that this includes my life. Does God really mean it when He says that He loves me? Do I really believe that His plans are good, even if they don’t meet my timetable? Surely all this delayed gratification means that he has forgotten? Yet I’m starting to get the sneaking suspicion that most of the troubles I go through in life are meant to show me that God is trustworthy and good, because He hasn’t failed me yet. So why should I fret about being one-half of a couple or just one? As Paul so succinctly states in the Message version of 1 Corinthians 7:17, “Where you are right now is God's place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there. God, not your marital status, defines your life.” That doesn’t even remotely smell like desperation.
I’m also fairly certain that marriage is not, as it says in the Ingrid Michaelson song, about putting “the lonely on the shelf.” I have noticed over the years that my married friends still feel out of place, discontent, and even lonely at times, just like they did before they got married, and just like I do now. Maybe it’s not as sharp if you’re with someone else, I don’t really know, but that loneliness is still mine alone to deal with. Because no person can fill that aching core of my soul that reminds me that I am not yet whole, that my home is somewhere else, and I cannot yet know and love perfectly the One who loves me best. If I really get honest with myself, I think I would freak out if that painful longing went away, anyway. Sometimes it’s the most tangible proof of God’s existence in my life, and I’m suspicious that I’d be lost without it.
Everything became clear in one instant, just the other day. I overheard a conversation between a mother and her young son. She had accidentally grabbed two packets of coloring pages when she only wanted one. “Why can’t we have both?” her son asked. She paused for a moment, then stated “Because I believe that one is an elegant sufficiency.” Everything clicked in my mind at once. An elegant sufficiency! What a lovely phrase! “No longer,” I declared in my head, “will I be known by a term that smacks of desperation and/or lack! I will not be single! With Christ, I am an elegant sufficiency!” After all, “my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus (Phil 4:19).” I’m pretty sure that means that God will supply everything. It doesn’t mean that I don’t need or want other people in my life, it says that I am confident that God is with me and sovereign at this moment in my life, and it is good. Am I still tempted to whine? Heck yes! Do I still want to get married? Yes, but only if and when God chooses. I would encourage you to start looking to see what sort of provisions God has made for your elegant sufficiency, wherever you are in life, instead of pining away over what you think you lack. You might be surprised by what you find.
No comments:
Post a Comment