Transcript

I wish I could do this question justice because it's such an important one and it's one that I don't and probably will never have a full adequate answer for. And so can I first say for those of you who are watching and currently wrestling with this, that my heart goes out to you. Singleness is a precious gift and a calling. It's not a less-than life to marriage or a condition and life stage to be pitied, but I know for many who are navigating unwanted singleness, it doesn't always feel that way. I also know that there are a lot of platitudes out there—well-intended words and encouragement often given to singles. "Just have faith and keep praying." "Once you fully surrender the desire to God and find all your contentment in him, he'll bring the person." And I know sometimes that has been the story for a lot of people and those are beautiful testimonies. I also know sometimes those are not always helpful words, which in some ways makes me not want to say anything, but there are a few things that I'll say.

I think the question of who you'll turn to in the heartache of your unwanted singleness is a challenging one, because the One who you are praying to, the One who you've been asking to provide you with the gift of marriage, can seem to be indifferent and can seem to be the One who's not answering your prayers, who seems deaf to your desires and leaving your longings unfulfilled. And so it can be tempting to not turn to him and to feel like he is uncaring and to feel like he is distant and the reality of turning to him is difficult because also we know in the depths of our heart, he is our hope and our comfort.

I remember Elizabeth Elliot in her book Passion and Purity, which was a blessing to me in various seasons of crawling through unwanted singleness. There are so many gems in that book, but a particular one that struck me when I read it was the Lord's compassion in the journey of unwanted singleness. When speaking of her own unfulfilled longing in her love life, she wrote, "Someone once observed that the toothache you have this very minute is the worst pain in the world. Love sickness may seem a trifle compared with other maladies, but the one who is sick with love is sick indeed, and the heavenly Father understands that. He steadily draws us along the pathway to glory." Often we can think to navigate unwanted singleness in a way that attempts to eradicate the desire for marriage and companionship itself. "If only I could be truly content in singleness..." "The fact that I struggle and I want this so badly, shows that I'm not trusting him, shows that I'm not content, and he'll keep me waiting."

God, imagining him, it was like he was shaking his head in disapproval, but it was a pivot point in me that though my desire for love and marriage may seem a trifle compared to other suffering that's happening in the world, it was indeed painful for me in that moment and in that season, and I have a heavenly Father who doesn't despise that but who understands that. He wants to meet me in the struggle, not just waiting for me to not struggle at all. He understands, he invites me to speak of these aches and wrestlings to him, and he is faithful and kind to me even there, and that's where the quote reoriented my heart of "Who will I turn to in the midst of the heartache of unwanted singleness? He seems like someone I've been asking him for this gift and he's not providing, and yet, who else can I turn to?"

And when I understood the Lord not just waiting for me to not struggle anymore with this, it became an invitation to turn to him, to speak to him. And so perhaps the first question might be, What do you imagine your heavenly Father's posture is to you in your unwanted singleness? Psalm 103:13–14, it says, "As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust." Second, one other thing that may be helpful is the invitation to look for manna. For one, we can often look at singleness and wonder if this is all there will ever be. "Will I be single forever? Will I ever find love and get married?" We can imagine decades, a whole lifetime of aloneness, and that image and that imagination can feel unbearable. "If it's this hard now and today, how will I endure this for the rest of my life?" It can feel daunting, and hopelessness and despair can grow.

I did a breakout session in 2021 on singleness and online dating, and I compared the experience of unwanted singleness to the Israelites journey in the wilderness in Exodus. I know it's tempting to read Bible passages about the wilderness... "They went from this camp to this camp and they did this and that." We're familiar with that story and that narrative. We have an idea of how it ends. We can read the beginning of the story, the middle, and the end in all one sitting now if we wanted to, but slowing down in the middle of the wilderness story, the Israelites, their actual lived experience—they were in the wilderness, the hot, arid, barren desert wasteland of the wilderness. They were wandering day in and day out, not knowing when they would reach the promised land, not knowing fully what God was up to. 40 years. 40 years is a long time to be constantly unsettled and transitioning, not sure how basic needs will be met, not knowing if you'll be safe from the enemies, not sure what tomorrow brings, no written out itinerary or ETA. Unwanted singleness can feel like this. It can feel like a lot of wandering, a lot of waiting, a lot of wondering what God is up to. The doubts and the wrestling are real. We know the end of the Israel's wilderness story, but they didn't while they were living it. They were asked to live by faith, to live by God's promises, which day after day, month after month, year after year seemed to go unfulfilled. "How much longer will you do this? Have you forgotten about us? Do you hate us? This is hard and arduous."

Sometimes the longing for marriage can feel like the Israelites longing to reach the promised land, to be done with the wandering and waiting, to reach this long for destination. And like the Israelites, sometimes God doesn't do what we want. He doesn't zap us out of the wilderness, even though he could. He often asks us to wait. He asks us to keep going. And in the journey he asks us to gather manna, this flake-like, frost-like thing of a bread in exodus, a day's worth for each day, day after day. Could that be in our wilderness story too? Through singleness, the heartache of the wilderness, yet finding those evidences of God's provision and grace to us day after day as we wait on him, finding the small good gifts in our everyday lives: a conversation with a friend, one encouraging verse in Scripture or a worship song sung at church, the faith to turn to God in prayer saying help rather than turning away from him, a decently productive day at work, quality time with family, time spent in nature, a church member willing to pray for you. I don't know what your manna could be, but there are these daily small ways God is sustaining you and perhaps they may give you glimmers of hope.

Sam Alberry in his book, The Seven Myths about Singleness, wrote in this chapter that was titled "Singleness Is Too Hard." He writes, "The temptation for many who are single is to compare the downs of singleness with the ups of marriage. And the temptation for some married people is to compare the downs of marriage with the ups of singleness, which is equally dangerous. The grass will often seem greener on the other side. Whichever gift we have, marriage or singleness, the other can easily seem far more attractive. Our common assumption—marriage is better or easier—is not true. Seeing what I've seen in the last decade or so, I have to say I would choose the lows of singleness over the lows of marriage any day of the week. I think being unhappily married must be so much harder than being unhappily single."

My point in reading this is not necessarily to convince you to see the grass is greener on your own side. I imagine logically this might make sense, but you would still prefer marriage over singleness. I share this because I remember when I read it, it made me realize how much it is tempting to see singleness only in the aspects of lack and deprivation. I'm the person who always thought of the downs of singleness with the ups of marriage, and it made me blind to manna. It didn't change that I still preferred marriage over singleness; it just challenged the blindness of my heart to the ways that the Lord was blessing, sustaining, and strengthening me here in singleness, the ups of singleness. I decided with an increased resolve to live singleness one day at a time, not thinking about "20 to 30 years from now, what if I'm still single?" and I decided to live it one day at a time, gathering the glimpses of his grace at work, however small and flake like it might be.

I'll end with this passage where Moses is reflecting on the wilderness experience after the Israelites enter the promised land. This is Deuteronomy 1:30–31 and it says, "The Lord your God who goes before you will himself fight for you just as he did for you in Egypt before your eyes, and in the wilderness, where you have seen how the Lord your God carried you, as a man carries his son, all the way that you went until you came to this place."

We are carried, brothers and sisters, whether we ever experience earthly marriage or not, whether we ever get remarried or not, we are carried. And there's a day coming we'll be face-to-face with the one who sought us and stayed with us and never settled for anything less than his best for us in our singleness. One day we will behold the Father who in the wilderness carried us all the way. In whatever wilderness we've endured, on that day, we will see the unfailing, steadfast Lover of our souls, and we'll realize that being with him and him being with us, that this was the promised land we actually longed for all along; a day with no more wilderness, a wedding, a wedding feast. We his people, him our God forever. There is no question that the wilderness is hard, but there is hope, and this is our hope.