I don’t mind being single. Actually, I quite like it.
I get to sleep with my laptop in the bed next to me. You know, just in case the muse strikes at 2 am or I get a sudden craving to watch funny cat videos.
Eat carrots and hummus for dinner while standing in the open fridge? Yes, please.
Oh, and that splurge at the Estee Lauder counter I had last week? The only person I had to explain that to was myself (okay, and you, but you already knew, so it’s not like I had to stress out about you getting to the credit card bill before I did).
You have held me, blessed me and loved me through my singleness. You have taken my broken heart and healed it bit by bit. And like a skilled surgeon, your hand was so precise that my heart beats even stronger than before you had a go at it. Maybe it’s a little hardened. There’s definitely some scar tissue. But it gets better every day.
I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but here’s the thing…while I have peace about you not putting the right man in my life, my heart is growing weary by all the wrong men you have allowed to cross my path.
I know you have a reason. There is something I’m supposed to learn from them, or something they need to learn from me. Maybe they are meant to be a test, not for you to see what I will do (you know!), but for me to gauge my level of growth.
But I’m tired. You know my heart, Lord, and you know my weaknesses. And I trust that you allow these temptations and complications for the purpose of my overall good. Maybe when I’m on the other side of this life I will be able to see how the pieces of this puzzle fit together.
So I will not ask why and I will not ask you to stop doing what you have been doing. I do, however, ask you to give me strength as I endure these temptations, and peace and discernment as I weave my way through the complications.
Maybe the right man is buried in there somewhere. Maybe he’ll appear through the smoke as a knight charging on a noble steed, or perhaps as a humble saint standing amidst the rubble that is my dating life.
Or maybe he will never come, but you will replace my ashes with other things of beauty.
Make me desirable to those who seek the light, and protect my heart from those who are not emotionally available to me. Let me see the good in people, but also grant me the gift of discernment to know when the good is genuine, and when it is merely a cloak over the things I do not wish to see.
Above all, hold my tongue. When I am hurting and the emotions are smoldering, give me strength to simply walk away, rather than continue banging my fist on a locked door.
And the next time I have my dinner by the light of the open refrigerator, remind me to use the time I save by spending it with you, my first and only true love.
Love your daughter,