We all live in constant states of limitation. I've been twenty-three years old for 6 months, and I keep forgetting that I'm older than twenty-two. It's a little disturbing to forget how old you are and to realize that you've forgotten. Sixteen, eighteen, twenty-one--these were landmarks, but after twenty-one, who's counting? Of course there are our "coming of age" dreams--perhaps twenty-four is a "stable" job, twenty-five is marriage, twenty-six is children. We scribble out our roadmaps and smile with squinty eyes at the only square-inch of road we can make out in front of us under the blazing sun. Man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps. For those who belong to Him, this is good news.

In May I wore one of those funny square hats and long boxy gowns. I shook the hands of others who wore even puffy-er dresses and plumpy-er hats--those whom I loved, loved even to the point where it hurt. Months later, I received the sheet of paper with my name on it, lying in the company of curly signatures and cursive fonts. It looked pretty, pompous and important. Chapter 22 came to a close, and Part II had begun.

I stand in the middle of 23, and my eyes are all squinty. They say that if I hold them half-closed for too long they'll stay that way, but I keep hoping I will be able to make some shapes out of these landscapes if I stare hard enough.

I find myself in a constant state of joy and sorrow. I don't find myself in the generalities, I find myself in the multifaceted world of real life. If someone asks me how I am doing, my answer will never be wholly true, and I may just say "good" because giving a true-r answer would just be too much to unload. I expect that this is the way it is for us all.
Right now, in the midst of a thousand complexities, I find the old dream of marriage stirring these slowly yellowing pages. The equal presence of joy and sorrow is so evident in this. There is such a sweetness in relishing the gift given to you, taking it up to your lips and inhaling this sweet truth: "The woman who is unmarried, and the virgin, is concerned about the things of the Lord, that she may be holy both in body and spirit; but the one who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how she may please her husband. This I say...to secure undistracted devotion to the Lord." How sweet is it to use the freedom of singleness to serve? How precious is it to use our abundant resources not for the selfish desires of our flesh, but for the pouring out unto others? Few have this gift and opportunity. Few are able to serve Jesus so recklessly in such a boundless sphere. I have been learning to frolic in this meadow, to wave my arms more and more freely in a dance of worship within these boundaries He's placed me in.

The sorrow, however, teaches me I am not Home yet. I have sin. I live in a world broken by sin. Loneliness is real. I believe that loneliness can be present in marriage, but I also wonder if there isn't a loneliness that you forget after you've been married for awhile. Every season holds its own difficulties and celebrations, and we forget those of the last season so that it's hard to compare.

Recently, in those half-sober moments of sleep, I decided I should write a list of pros and cons about marriage and singleness. Somehow it sounded very rational and reasonable to make a list, and I later ended up scribbling some thoughts down. I thought that it might give me some insight, perhaps helping me discern what God's best looks like for me. What did I find? Both marriage and singleness are good. Both are sanctifying. Both are difficult and painful. Both can be gospel-proclaiming and pleasing to God. Both are tainted by sin, both are teeming with temptations and potential lies. Both are circumstances, and neither will give my heart full satisfaction. Neither will give me what I need:

 "Not that I speak from want, for I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am. I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me."


Every choice has its freedoms and limitations. Every circumstance has its boundary lines. Laughter and sobs will mingle until the day He wipes every tear from our eyes. But the joy of knowing Him is expressed in the context of every stepping stone of my life. He knows what kind of life circumstances will most glorify Himself in this moment, and this sets me free from hopelessly aching for marriage in singleness and singleness in marriage.

I can be content, whatever the circumstances, for the Lord Himself is my portion.

The Lord is my shepherd.
I shall not want.