I am greedy.
I want more.
More life.
Just more.
It's such a profound and bone deep desire I can barely articulate it. But, right alongside more is better. I want to be better. A better housekeeper.
A better budgeter.
A better friend. A better sister.
A better volunteer.
A better woman.
People have told me all sorts of cliche things about still being single and waiting for the right man and working on yourself while you wait. For me that translated into
"There is something wrong with you, and until you fix it, you won't find him."
"You're not good enough for the kind of man you want, once you're good enough he'll be able to see you."
I've heard it in the media, I've seen it in movies, I've even heard it in various ways to different degrees from friends. Only one or two friends have honestly said "I don't know why you're still single." And said it in a way that attempted to tell me that none of those other things are true.
Tonite I cried and I prayed. As I prayed I asked for more, almost as a default, I'm not sure I actually think much about it anymore. Then I asked to be better. At first I meant healed, done with this grieving, moving on, progressing, better. Then I felt like God said to me "Better than what?" And I listed off all those things above that I want to be better at. And I felt like He said "You're doing just fine. It's ok to be here. You're not as bad as you think." Cause see, the thing is, I focus on the comparison I make to my friends and family. The comparisons I listed out in a previous blog about people who keep their houses clean and their weight down and their checkbook balanced. I see that, and when I measure myself against that standard I lose. I will always lose. Always.
I thought to myself
"I am going to work.
I pay my bills.
My dishes get done eventually.
I spend time with my friends, and i'm not catatonic.
I spend time with my family, and i'm not catatonic.
I am pouring into my students still."
Could life be better? yep. Could I be better? possibly. But if I compare myself to where I was 5 years ago, I'm doing very well. 10 years ago, very very well. Even one year ago, much much better than where I was then.
So why do I focus on what I still lack? Why do I focus on my perceived shortcomings? Honestly? Because they're easier to see. It's easier to let the negative voices of life repeat to you that you're not enough, that you're ugly or stupid or fat or lazy or loud or emotional or whatever.
It's easier to listen to those than to block those out and shut those away long enough to hear
The Lover of Your Soul rejoice over you with singing.
To hear Him say you are his Beloved.
To hear Him say he will never leave you nor forsake you.
To hear him say you are enough, even if no one else believed it, He does.
He always has, He always will.
And He never lets go.
He will always ever continue to whisper His Truth to your heart.
All you have to do is focus and it comes in loud and clear.
There's a story I love from She Just Walks Around With It where she talks about how her now-husband (then-boyfriend) is in the wine business and he'd brought home this really good bottle of wine and she'd just had her wisdom teeth out. She and her husband are sitting at the table reading or working or whatever and she realizes that she's started using the wine to swish out the holes from her wisdom teeth. She sees him looking at her and thinks she's blown it and he's going to be upset and think she's tacky and uncultured. He looks at her and says, "You're delightful."
ReplyDeleteAs soon as I read that, I thought yeah. That's what I want. Not someone who wants me to be perfect, someone who thinks my imperfection is adorable. All of that crap people feed you about having to work on yourself in order to find someone is infuriating. You work on yourself all your life because you want to become better. Meeting someone is just luck, timing, and (once you get out of school) doing the work of finding a way to meet people. (Ok, I get that there are people who love being social, but it was certainly work to me. I haaaaaated doing Match. But you don't meet men when you work in a middle school.)