Not To Scare You Or Anything.

I like to say that I'm ready to be married.

I like to say that a lot.

And, for the most part, I think a lot of female colleagues I've talked to are in the same boat, which I'm sure is quite startling to the XY club.

I'm ready to be married, in a sense, to find my partner and get to the good stuff: learning, battling, and growing in faith. It's exciting to me, to share a life with another individual, the good, the not so good, and the thoughts and ideals in our mind that we like to keep packed away. I'm ready to trust. I'm ready to believe. Moreover, I'm ready to create a life with someone who will walk beside me. Not in front, nor behind, but beside me, and take it one lovey-dovey* day at a time.

I have it all planned out.

But knowing my Father, and His great sense of humor, will come at me from left field - completely polar to what I was expecting. I like to say I'm not looking. I like to think I'm not looking, but deep down my peripheral vision has the creativity of a seven year old. I'm sure it has something to do with the estrogen.

That's the beauty in plans, though. You make them, yet the probability of those desires coming to be is a complete mystery - just how I have a list of qualities I'm (not actively, of course) looking for: he must love cats, drool over Egg McMuffins, and share in my chai addiction. However, years from now, I'll probably be exchanging vows with a dog lover, fast-food hater, and a calorie-counter king**.

You never know what you're going to get. But that's the most enchanting realization, I suppose. At the end of the day, I do know what I want, but I don't know what's best for me. And that's where the light shines through: my King who knows me inside and out, action from reaction, thought from craving, from want, from need, from hope, from truth - sees me in my undoubtedly overwhelming transparency. And with that solidified notion, I uninhibitedly surrender. And wait.

And I keep telling myself that, "I'll just know when it's time," but as each day goes by I wonder how even that is possible.

How will you just know?

Is it like God slaps you*** and says, "Here, look, it's him" with doves fluttering about in a divine nature? Is it through tireless dating? Is it through our standards being met and the individual exceeding those?

These questions position myself to becoming increasingly aggravated at my own ill-supported-by-any-concrete-evidence ideological fantasy, so I stop.

I think there's a healthy balance between the two: actively searching and waiting. What I do know for certain, though, as Luke covered in Acts, is we, as women, should be keen on finding a man who is seeking God's own heart, and continue to trust in Him wholeheartedly - with or without a significant other. And with that, I think everything else will fall into place.

And you'll just know.

CourtReplies

* My primary love language is affirmation, then touch. Be prepared hubby, be prepared.
** I'm just sayin'.
*** In a genuine, I-love-you-unconditionally kind of way.

Revenge, I Say!

Humanity can always be found reaching; Whether it's for that dream job, dream husband, or the last smidgen of tamale casserole*, the stars never seem quite enough. We consistently binge ourselves of wants, like a typical i'm-an-emotional-wreck-and-can't-get-my-hand-out-of-the-fridge day, and go from one to the next, taking little notice to the effect that each rise and fall brings. Theses wants, though, are vastly different than our true, genuine needs: a God to lean on, and the occasional dirty chai to sip on.

I'm beginning to learn more and more to just what extent I'm really not in control. I'm not in control of where I'm going to be in two weeks, I'm not in control of who I'm going to be with in two years, and I'm certainly not in control of what I'll be wearing tomorrow. As frivolous as it may seem, I find myself yearning to take hold of the reins, and lead Santa's helpers** to where I presume the next stop to be located.

However, as experience shows, houses are missed, presents are not delivered, and a particularly dramatic crash ensues.

Although the metaphor seems somewhat vague, it still rings true. The continuum that the earth runs on is time - seconds, minutes, hours - so comprehension other than that is somewhat of a difficulty. I find it hard to think beyond my ever-so-favorable tunnel vision, and catch myself aching to make things happen, my way, and in my time.

Even when I think I'm doing something that breathes right, something that feels right, something that looks right - it could still be wrong. A couple of months ago I wouldn't have understood. I would have found myself teething in resentment, anger, and left with a bitter heart. But now, I have been blessed with a sort of comprehension; I can look at each situation with open, trusting eyes.

It's not easy.

But that's when grace steps in.

I'm growing, and I'm continually reassured in the most simplistic of instances. Once I would have overlooked them, yet on this date I cherish them.

I was told simply to "be at peace" the other morning, and I accepted it. Nine hours later, and I'm attacked, wherein which I realized these words of wisdom were obviously preparing myself for what was to come.

I understood.

And in that I find total contentment.

My Father is teaching me, and slowly but surely, as any worldly individual, I'm catching on - and rejoicing in it.

Welcome to the Chai Factor.

CourtReplies

*Whatever you do, don't set the casserole in front of you.
**I'm ready for winter when you are, God. Hint, hint.