I was a junior attending Bible college in the Pacific Northwest when I first felt the pressure to get married. That spring, the dorm bulletin board abounded with wedding announcements, including those of several close friends. I hadn\u2019t gone to college expecting to emerge with a husband, but I wasn\u2019t opposed to the idea. And as many of my peers began finding their matches, I started to feel that maybe my single status made me different from them \u2014 in a bad way.<\/p>\n
This feeling would follow me to Colorado when I relocated for my first editing job. Of all the places to find someone with whom to start a family,<\/em> surely Focus on the Family is it<\/em>, I thought. I was wrong. Although I relished my job, made amazing friends, and discovered fun hobbies, I went through many days feeling like I hadn\u2019t quite arrived. My single friends and I would sometimes discuss the nagging impression that we weren\u2019t quite as worthy as the married folks. And while I loved my church, most of its ministries seemed focused on married couples and families, leaving me feeling overlooked.<\/p>\n One thing I discovered in my 20s is that not all singles are on the same track. For non-Christian singles who feel no obligation to live according to biblical commands, singleness isn\u2019t necessarily considered a bad thing. In fact, popular media often portrays \u201csettling down\u201d with one monogamous partner as a negative event that drains your resources and limits your personal freedoms. Unfettered by the constraints of Scripture, a single person is \u201cfree\u201d to live life in whatever way he or she sees fit.<\/p>\n Then there are the Christian singles: the (ostensibly) sexless, devout and unattached. Their experience is quite different as they submit their sexual desires to Christ until He provides them with the proper context for this expression. Both types of singles may be lonely, but those seeking to live by biblical standards may feel penalized because the unique joys of marriage are off-limits to them for the duration of their singleness. This naturally creates a sense of \u201cmissing out.\u201d<\/p>\n For me, the feeling that I was inferior to my married counterparts came from two main sources: 1) My internal thoughts, judgments and feelings about myself; and 2) the messages I received from others. Although I knew the Bible said singleness was acceptable and sometimes even preferred<\/a>, I still tended to view my single status as a failure. Along with many of my friends, my younger brother married just out of college and already had three kids while I was still single in my 30s. This seeming inequity frustrated me.<\/p>\n A girlfriend once said, \u201cI\u2019m successful in all these other areas \u2014 education, career, finances \u2014 and yet this one goal of finding a spouse eludes me.\u201d I felt the same. Though I desired marriage, meeting the right person and entering a relationship that led to matrimony seemed out of my reach. I could get a master\u2019s degree, a dream job or even a house, but my singleness seemed like an unsolvable \u201cproblem\u201d that left me wondering if I was hopelessly flawed.<\/p>\n Remarks from others, particularly those who were married, didn\u2019t help to ease my fears. They seemed perplexed by my singleness. \u201cDo you like being single?\u201d they asked. \u201cAre you too picky?\u201d \u201cAre you unwilling to settle down?\u201d While my answers to each of these questions was no, the implications caused embarrassment and self-doubt. I didn\u2019t know how to explain why I wasn\u2019t married, and I was weary from trying.<\/p>\n One reason I could<\/em> identify for my extended singleness was a lack of options. I simply had not met a godly man who seemed like a good match for me. I sometimes sensed married people felt sorry for me because I had failed to find the love and happiness they themselves had secured. I also felt misunderstood. In many cases it had been simple for them to find a wonderful spouse, yet that was not my story.<\/p>\n While the number of married people ages 18-35 dropped<\/a> from 59 percent in 1978 to 29 percent in 2018, other data reveals that many Christian singles still desire marriage. Lyman Stone talked about this in a recent article<\/a> for “Christianity Today”:<\/p>\n \u201cIn a survey of regularly church-attending single women under 35, my consulting firm found that the average desired family size was 2.7 children, versus just 2 children for never-attending single women or 2.8 for regularly attending married women. Christian singles have about the same family aspirations as their married peers. They are unmarried not mostly because of a lack of desire but because of factors not strictly within their control: family and churches who discouraged hasty and young marriage, lack of suitable Christian partners, instability in the job market, fears of divorce motivating hyperselectivity, and so on.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n That was me: a single woman who desired marriage but felt powerless to make it happen. While some questioned the reason for my singleness, others glorified it, raving about how exciting and fancy-free my life seemed. And, in truth, I was<\/em> able to soak up experiences that I never could have managed had I been married and caring for children. I traveled. I performed with a comedy improv troupe. I stayed out late laughing and talking and having chips and salsa with my friends. I ran half-marathons and got to the gym regularly. I met my girlfriends for breakfast and coffee weekly.<\/p>\n I also had the free time to make spiritual investments. I had unhurried quiet times with God that were truly \u201cquiet.\u201d I soaked up His Word, prayed and worshiped with few distractions. I attended Bible studies and small groups. I served in children\u2019s ministry. I had the freedom to jump in and serve at my church and be available to friends who needed to talk.<\/p>\n In so many ways, my singleness was sweet. And yet the underlying question of my worthiness that ran beneath the surface was bitter.<\/p>\n In the Old Testament, singleness and barrenness were dreadful burdens to carry. You were nothing without a family line. In the book of Ruth<\/a>, when Naomi and Ruth return to the land of Judah, Naomi is so broken by the death of her husband and sons that she requests her friends call her \u201cMara,\u201d which means bitter. God\u2019s people multiplied through marriage and babies; without those things, Naomi felt she was being punished by God.<\/p>\n I recently heard Pastor David Platt discuss<\/a> how this emphasis changed in the New Testament. \u201cA whole new meaning of being a family emerges,\u201d he said. \u201cThe New Covenant changed everything.\u201d The family was no longer centered on bloodlines because God had created a brand-new family comprised of all believers. Every Christ-follower, regardless of ethnicity, sex or relationship status, belongs to this family (Galatians 3:28<\/a>).<\/p>\n While marriage is still part of God\u2019s good design for humans as a solution for loneliness, a reflection of the mystery of Christ and the church, and a committed relationship from which to bear and raise godly children, singleness is also presented as a valid option. Those living in celibate singleness can effectively follow Jesus, serve the church, produce spiritual fruit and invest in Kingdom work. Though their methods may look different from those of their married counterparts, God does not value them less. Moreover, every<\/em> Christ-follower has exactly what he or she needs to live a life of godliness<\/a>, regardless of relationship status.<\/p>\n On the podcast, Platt went on to explain how singles fit into the family of God:<\/p>\n \u201cMarriage is a display of the gospel. Singleness is also a unique portrayal of the gospel. Both are good gifts. Christian singleness, unlike the world, says, \u2018You don\u2019t need someone else to complete you.\u2019 Jesus fully completes you. You don\u2019t need sexual expression through marriage to be a full person. [Singleness] is a picture of full identity in Jesus, which points forward to heaven.\u201d<\/p><\/blockquote>\n I would have loved to hear those words when I was single. Some days singleness didn\u2019t feel like much of a \u201cgift.\u201d While cultural factors certainly influence how many Christian marriages are made, single men and women of all ages are part of God\u2019s design. They have the distinct privilege of trusting Him in unique ways as they cultivate rich relationships, trust God with their needs, and serve Him wholeheartedly.<\/p>\n If singleness is a source of grief or sorrow for you, you are not alone. Navigating life with unfulfilled longings and wondering if marriage will ever happen is a tough and tender road to walk. I struggled with contentment as a single woman. Not surprisingly, those years were an incredible opportunity to radically depend on God. I discovered I could be honest with Him about my disappointments and heartsickness over what felt like an unwanted detour. As I grieved what wouldn\u2019t be<\/a>, I found comfort in Him and in my community of believers. I learned I could trust His plan when I didn\u2019t understand what He was doing.<\/p>\n Regardless of marital status, each of us is called to preach the gospel in everything we do. Marriage is meaningful. Singleness is also meaningful. Paul, who was single, said he had learned to be content in every situation. \u201cI know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me\u201d (Philippians 4:12-13<\/a>).<\/p>\n I had never considered that well-known passage being spoken from a single person\u2019s perspective. Paul, who passionately preached the gospel and helped establish the church, relied on God\u2019s strength in good times and bad \u2014 as a single man. He recognized Jesus as his all in all and leaned into God\u2019s sufficient grace<\/a>.<\/p>\nSingled out<\/h4>\n
Wanting marriage<\/h4>\n
Rethinking singleness<\/h4>\n
Single on purpose<\/h4>\n