Confusion swirls as the thoughts are pondered. Unanswered questions fill mind space. As I close my eyes I hear a familiar sound overhead and my lips stretch into a smile. The roaring engine of a plane, soaring thousands of feet above the earth.
Flying releases a sense of freedom; I've jumped out of a couple of airplanes, but usually I find myself securely fastened and journeying from one place to another. Once as I was soaring 36K feet up in the air, deep in thought, tears began pouring, uncontrollably. My focus was on the nakedness of a left hand finger. The very finger that I figured, by this point in my life, would be adorned by a symbol of love, a till-dealth-do-us-part commitment. Tears still streaming, breath short, *the man sitting uncomfortably next to me*..unable to pull myself together.
Looking out into the wispy white I silently lifted up a prayer. Deep breath. Then a peace, not audible or spelled out in letters and lights, but a cradling of my soul, a deep caring for my heart. A reminder of the promise given years ago.
In truth, I've worn the label single as an embarrassment, shame. Because, you see, most of my friends are past the marriage stage, and are having or have had their children. How many times have I stood beside dear friends as they committed their lives to another? Rejoicing with laughter and tears. And then welcomed their sweet little ones, while feeling the piercing desire to one day gaze upon my own. Or held hands and petitioned expectantly for those who could not conceive, wondering if they realize the depth to which I understand their sorrow.
The whys are unrelenting. Where do I belong? And how much longer must I wait? In my head I know that this season is producing endurance and perseverance, but my heart aches.
And then the questions of *when are you going to settle down and start a family?* as if settling has anything to do with it. Settling is not an option. I have a calling and a purpose; I have not wasted my life recklessly on this world, but rather have offered a life of reckless abandon to my Maker. My longing to live an extraordinary life for him trumps my willingness to be content with the status quo. He knows what is best for each one, and it is in the comparing myself to others that I begin to dwell on my have nots.
Yet, when hope seems like a distant memory He will often lift my head and remind me of his love..with airplanes, promises. Taking me to days much like the one where He romanced my heart high above the clouds. He is working it out. He is never early. He is never late.
Like the pilot He sees what's ahead, He knows where we're going. So, I can either rely on my limited window view or trust in His all knowing-ness. I choose to trust. I choose faith for what is still unseen.
So, audaciously, expectantly, boldly I pray for this desire to be fulfilled. Even when others have given up, I choose to believe that He is able. He knit me together, He knows every hair on my head, He knows my every thought. He has not forgotten me..
nor has He forgotten you.
For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, "Fear not, I am the one who helps you." --Isaiah 41:13
Flying releases a sense of freedom; I've jumped out of a couple of airplanes, but usually I find myself securely fastened and journeying from one place to another. Once as I was soaring 36K feet up in the air, deep in thought, tears began pouring, uncontrollably. My focus was on the nakedness of a left hand finger. The very finger that I figured, by this point in my life, would be adorned by a symbol of love, a till-dealth-do-us-part commitment. Tears still streaming, breath short, *the man sitting uncomfortably next to me*..unable to pull myself together.
Looking out into the wispy white I silently lifted up a prayer. Deep breath. Then a peace, not audible or spelled out in letters and lights, but a cradling of my soul, a deep caring for my heart. A reminder of the promise given years ago.
In truth, I've worn the label single as an embarrassment, shame. Because, you see, most of my friends are past the marriage stage, and are having or have had their children. How many times have I stood beside dear friends as they committed their lives to another? Rejoicing with laughter and tears. And then welcomed their sweet little ones, while feeling the piercing desire to one day gaze upon my own. Or held hands and petitioned expectantly for those who could not conceive, wondering if they realize the depth to which I understand their sorrow.
The whys are unrelenting. Where do I belong? And how much longer must I wait? In my head I know that this season is producing endurance and perseverance, but my heart aches.
And then the questions of *when are you going to settle down and start a family?* as if settling has anything to do with it. Settling is not an option. I have a calling and a purpose; I have not wasted my life recklessly on this world, but rather have offered a life of reckless abandon to my Maker. My longing to live an extraordinary life for him trumps my willingness to be content with the status quo. He knows what is best for each one, and it is in the comparing myself to others that I begin to dwell on my have nots.
Yet, when hope seems like a distant memory He will often lift my head and remind me of his love..with airplanes, promises. Taking me to days much like the one where He romanced my heart high above the clouds. He is working it out. He is never early. He is never late.
Like the pilot He sees what's ahead, He knows where we're going. So, I can either rely on my limited window view or trust in His all knowing-ness. I choose to trust. I choose faith for what is still unseen.
So, audaciously, expectantly, boldly I pray for this desire to be fulfilled. Even when others have given up, I choose to believe that He is able. He knit me together, He knows every hair on my head, He knows my every thought. He has not forgotten me..
nor has He forgotten you.
For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, "Fear not, I am the one who helps you." --Isaiah 41:13
You have a great writing style. Beautiful post.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your kind words, Mark,
DeleteKeep writing with vulnerability, it will be a great encouragement for other singles.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Shelley.
DeleteGood flow here in this post. You can never go wrong when you write from the heart and end with the Truth. David wrote like this regularly as we can see in the Psalms! Emotion and Truth. We always find peace when the two are inseparable.
ReplyDeleteContinue what you do, girl. Love it.
That's so great to hear. Very affirming. Thanks!
DeleteAndrea.
ReplyDeleteI empathize with you here more than I would ever care to admit (and I don't just mean lots of flying, lol). Brave for writing this. Courage in audaciously praying for it and then still *going* while you wait. Thanks for sharing this.
<3
Thanks, Libby. Praying for your space-loving man! :)
DeleteSuch a valuable lesson, learning to trust in God's timing. He brought to me an amazing, wonderful man whom He taught me to love, only for this man to turn on me and walk away after four months of engagement. I too have heartache over an empty left hand, but I have the peace and comfort that God is working in my life to make me the woman He desires. Always remind yourself that God has deemed you worthy to stand for Him against the expectations of others. Stay strong!
ReplyDeleteWow. Thank you for sharing, Heather. He is always working in your life. :)
DeleteSo, I may have had to stop reading this yesterday because I started crying at work. So been in this place this week. Might I recommend Ann Voskamp's latest birthday posts and Andy Gullahorn's new song Grand Canyon for a little encouragement and perspective.
ReplyDeleteLove you, Lea!
DeleteOh, Andrea... I'm in the same place--sort of. I needed to be reminded of His purpose for my life and His perfect timing for all things. I,too, will choose faith for what is still unseen. And hope. We still have hope. Love you, dear friend, sooo much!
ReplyDeleteAnd I love you, sweet one!!
Delete