singleness: on a journey from resentment to faith ...

Resentment: "The feeling of displeasure or indignation at some act, remark, person, etc., regarded as causing injury or insult."

It's is the emotion you feel when you're unforgiving. It's the anger, the frustration, the silent "You should have known better!" that we keep inside. It's always directed at someone else; you just can't let it go. And many times you wish that they will pay for their sins somehow.

But you don't admit it to anyone. Or if you do, it's often in a complaining, slandering and bitter way.

Meanwhile, the person who did the injuring seems to be happily getting on with life, apparently completely and totally oblivious to the boiling cauldron they've stirred within you.

I've been there more times than I can count.

And, admittedly, for really dumb and insignificant reasons, too. When I look back at the foolishness I've gotten angry about over the years, I really am quite embarrassed. And ashamed. 

Over the past few months, I've been working through some of these lingering resentments. And last Friday, a certain one hit me out of the blue.

I resent God.

Here I am, 30 years old, single and most likely staying that way, at least for the foreseeable future.

Here we are, living in this crappy world, where things just get harder and harder and harder as the world goes to ... well, a not-so-nice place in a hand basket and we get older and older and older and sicker and sicker and sicker. Until we die. Must I really go through all of that ... and alone??

Yep. That was morbid. And I did toy with whether or not I should just delete that part. Truth is, though ... it's honest, so it's staying.

But please bear with me. This is not the end; far from it. Though I am pleased to say that this is not (really) where my brain is (anymore), I must admit that my own pendulum hasn't quite swung fully the other way just yet ...

Anyway, I realized the other day that I resent God. There were plenty of opportunities for Him to work, to do something so that I wouldn't end up alone now. So why didn't He?

I would love the companionship, the security in knowing that I'll always have a wingman, a cheerleader, a forever friend, someone who can journey with me in this crazy world, someone to laugh with, cry with. Someone who can pull me out of my misery when I'm being pessimistic, kick me in the pants when I'm being stupid, and yet love me all the same. And all the while, we can be like iron sharpening iron, spurring each other on to greatness with love and acceptance in a way no other relationship can.

And yet ... I don't have that. And really, the only person I can blame is ... God.

So ... sometimes I do. I get angry, frustrated. Sad. Anxious that I'm going to be forever fighting life alone, and feeling like I'm being cheated out of something great.

I mean, heck, that's what the world is screaming. Those are the unspoken words a person says to me when they ask me when I'm getting married, and why I'm not married.

And I scream, too. In my head anyways. I scream things like, "It's unfair!" , "What's she got that I don't?" , "I'm better than her." and, most sadly, "What's wrong with me????"

I'm getting angry just typing about it.

So yes, resentment at God. After all, He's all-knowing and all-powerful, so he should be able to do something about it ...

When that revelation came to me last week, it was quickly followed by a thought something along the lines of, "I don't wanna keep living like this!"

Anger. Frustration. Anxiety. And ... scheming. "Hey, there's a cute guy. Hey! He's not wearing a wedding ring! Hey! He speaks English! Hey! He's part of a fellowship! Wonder if something could work ..." Then starts the daydreaming, the obsessing and everything else that a girl does (admit it; if you're a girl, you've done it).

... only in my case, it seems every time I start down this road, my scheming is (sometimes not so) quickly ended. "Oh ... he has a girlfriend. Oh, he has a fiancée. Oh, he's married ... but doesn't wear a ring."

Seriously, if you're married, wear a ring. If you're engaged, get yourself a tattoo across your forehead. Or else, if the two of you aren't attached at the hip, mention her within 10-30 seconds of meeting a new female. Saves us wondering. Obsessing. And scheming. Protect our minds, men. We will (silently) thank you.

Okay, getting off-topic. I really do not want to live with all of these emotions. I don't want to spend so much time missing what I don't have. I don't want to spend my time wondering if my trip down the aisle is ever going to happen. I don't want to scheme. Time is something that is irreplaceable; once it's gone, it's gone for good. Why waste it on thinking this way?

Two days after this lightening bolt revelation, I listened to a series of messages called Vital Signs.

They were all great. But the one that stuck with me was the one on faith. What really impacted me was the idea of having mustard seed-sized faith. For those of us who have been in the church for a while, it's a concept we should be really familiar with. But really, it's all that God asks us to start with. Nothing more than faith the size of a mustard seed. 

And it's by seeing what God does with that seed that our faith grows.

So. I have mustard-seed-sized faith about my future as someone's wife. It's all I can muster up right now. I don't know when, don't know how, don't know nothing. But I am choosing to ask God and believe that He will provide a husband for me. And if He doesn't ... well, I'm choosing to believe that I will be okay with that.

Eventually ...

By the way, that series of messages I referred to were given by my brother. He's awesome and deserves a listen. You can listen to him here. 

(Okay, l'il bro. I shamelessly plugged your work! NOW will you come visit me??)