Part 4: The Story and Waiting

When people asked me why I didn't want to try on-line dating, I always told them that I wanted a better story.  You know.  Like when people ask me later in life how I met my husband, I don't want to say I met him on-line.  I want a better story.  I want to be able to say I met him while we were hiking in the Andes and he saved me from a fierce mountain beast or gave me his last granola bar or something equally heroic.  Whatever.  I just want a good story.

I've been reading Donald Miller's book A Million Miles in a Thousand Years and its premise is that our lives are stories.  Miller basically says, "If your life is boring, you need a better story.  What are you going to do about it?"  When I turned 30 this past September, I had a similar revelation.  I thought, "Whoa, I'm 30.  This is my life.  No one else's.  I can sit back and let life happen to me, or I can do something with it."

Earlier this year, I read a book by Beth Moore called So Long Insecurity.  Of the many revelations that came with reading the book, I realized I was believing a lie.  I believed I would be secure if I was thin and if I had a man/was married.  I don't think it's wrong to want to fit into my pants and I definitely don't think it's wrong to have a desire for marriage, but it is harmful to believe that a flatter stomach or a husband will somehow make me secure.  The only One who continually gives lasting security is Jesus.

After all that, sometime this past May I got fed up with waiting around for a better story.  I questioned whether or not I should give on-line dating a go.  I even prayed about it.  And I didn't feel like I had much of a response.  I was all like, "Hey.  God.  Could seriously use some guidance here.  And plus, it's not fair--I haven't gone on a date in ages."  ....(crickets)...

And so I went for it.  In retrospect, I really feel like I had the Lord's permission (as weird as that sounds) to embark upon the on-line dating world.  And now, as the summer is coming to a close, I think I'm done.  There's nothing wrong with on-line dating and I have some good friends who are either trying it out or have met their significant other through on-line dating.  But, for me, I believe the season is over.  If you're going to be "successful" at it, you have to be on-line a lot and even though it's highly entertaining at times, the desire just isn't there.  Maybe some day I'll go back to it, but for now, I'm closing the book.

Donald Miller's book about story has really resonated with me.  Instead of "waiting" for my story to start, I'm realizing that part of my story is about waiting.  But waiting isn't a spectator sport.  Waiting is something I can actively approach.  I feel like the Lord is showing me the purpose in waiting.   I am not perfect, nor do I have to be perfect in order for God to grant me something I've been waiting for.  He's not a rewards-based God.  He is extravagant and gives more than we ask for or imagine.  Here's the rub: I have felt for so long that this season of singleness, of waiting, was punishment.  I ask, "What's wrong with me, God?  Why am I still single?"  For the first time, I am realizing that singleness, this period of waiting, is a gift.  A gift uniquely designed for me because God knows my story and knows this time is precious.

I feel like a million light bulbs have gone off.  I can enjoy this waiting season!  There's so much freedom in waiting--it's not bondage.  There are specific things God is showing me while I am waiting because it's the best time for me to have these learning experiences.  Waiting is part of my story and my story is good and valuable and has purpose because my story was designed perfectly by God.  I have no doubt that He's teaching me things through this part of my story--through the waiting.

I feel like a little girl who was shut in a dark closet.  The dark closet was everything negative about waiting.  And all of a sudden, I saw a crack of light under the closet door, but I was afraid to open the door, afraid to let the light in.  And then, when Someone tried to open the door for me, I braced my body against the door so it wouldn't open.  And then I finally listened to what He was saying.  "Rachel.  Hey baby girl.  I haven't locked you in the closet.  I want you to come out, it's lighter, brighter, and there's so much more room out here.  You can stretch your legs.  You don't have to be afraid.  Just open the door and hold my hand."

I don't want to waste this time just waiting, hiding in the dark.  If waiting truly is a gift, I want to open the gift, to revel in it and be thankful for it.  I'm not saying that I suddenly love being single all the time, or that I'm never going to date, or that I suddenly love going to baby showers,  but I do feel like my mindset has been radically changed.

And I've come to embrace certain things.  Like the fact that my thighs will never look as good as some 20-year-old athlete's.  But, they are strong.  My jumbo thighs allow me to dead lift and squat a lot of weight and kind of make me a hoss.  They can also carry me as I climb the Andes and run into my future husband who will hand me a granola bar after he rescues me from a ferocious mountain beast.  And, my belly dancing moves are so much better because of my thighs.  If you're feeling overly curvy, just take a belly-dancing class.  I'm serious.  You will leave feeling more feminine and more greatful for your glorious curves.