Six Secrets to Being Single

The Secrets to Being Single (and Happy)

“I would much rather be single and lonely than married and lonely.”

 “Never take your eye of the mission for the man.”

“Don’t be so consumed with finding the one; rather, become the one.”

It’s no secret that I’m 29 and single.  But maybe not everyone knows that my singleness has spanned all 29 years.  That’s right.  Boyfriendless for. 29. years.  I mean, we are not counting a two week fifth grade relationship that ended because he gave me a ring and my mom told me to give it back and that I couldn’t have a boyfriend at that age, right?  Although I’ve never been in a long term relationship, I have been proposed to countless times while in Swazi.  But those aren’t moments of flattery.  Those are mostly times of disgust at the men who have the audacity to say things like, “Hey baby, you could be on a movie.  Let’s go to my place and make a movie together.”  (This is an exact quote from a man at that car parts shop on Friday.) Where have all the good guys gone?

It’s also no secret that singleness can suck sometimes.  Especially when you watch all five of your college besties get married, and now you’re the only one left and you can’t participate in couples bible studies or marriage-life talks or getting preggers.  (Well…)  I mean, no matter how spiritually sound you are, it’s extremely hard to be left out, feel alone, and worst of all feel unworthy because your best friends were chosen and you weren’t.  While that’s sometimes true, maybe not everyone knows that singleness is actually one of the greatest blessings in life!  Oh, yes, indeed, you can be happy, fulfilled, confident, and loved even when you’re single.

At the college where I teach, the theme for one week of chapel was singleness.  A married staff member approached me and asked, “How do you do it?  How do you stay so strong?  Do you have any advice to share with others about singleness?” 

As I shared some thoughts with him, I felt God telling me that He’s not done with my singleness yet, and that there are so many others who need to know these truths about the importance of singleness.  I’m not an expert, I didn’t do any research, I’m not perfect, and I still struggle, but from my personal experience, here is my advice:

Six Secrets of Being Single:

1)    Be lonely.  Singleness is sometimes despairingly lonely.  But then again, so is marriage.  One day, after sharing my struggles of loneliness to my married friend, she responded gently to me, “Kate, I’d much rather be single and lonely than married and lonely.  Loneliness is not a result of being single.  Loneliness is a result of being empty, and that happens in marriages, too.”  She was right.  Marriage or a relationship is NOT a cure for loneliness.  If you have the mentality that marriage will solve your problems, that a spouse will validate your worth, or that marrying your best friend will eliminate that aching loneliness, then your marriage will be dangerously at risk for failure.  Know this: it’s okay to be lonely!  Indeed, I would much rather be alone and lonely than living with a man whom I love and still feel that disabling loneliness.  The secret is not eliminating loneliness, it’s learning how to be lonely…and still be okay.

 

2)    Be filled.  How can you work through your loneliness?  Loneliness is a result of being empty.  So, be filled.  (Easier said than done, right?) Society will tell you many, many Eden-apple-attractive lies to cure this emptiness.  Sex is one of these lies. Sex cannot fill you.  In fact, the act is the complete opposite.  It is meant to give yourself away, to have two become one.  It’s mixing Sprite and Fruit Punch, poured from two different glasses into one.  How can you mix if you’re empty?  Furthermore, if you keep giving yourself away, keep mixing with other liquids, what will you have left?  What will you have to offer your husband or wife other than an empty, used cup?  Sex in its fullness cannot be an act of self-fulfillment.  Sure, it satisfies, as it’s meant to be pleasurable and enjoyed in the context of marriage, but satisfaction lasts only as long as one night’s change of sheets. Know this: being filled does not mean engaging in sexual pleasures.  It means something so much deeper, long-lasting.  The secret to singleness is about finding yourself, not giving it away.

3)    Find yourself.  How can you find yourself if you’re always in a relationship?  Instead of becoming who you’re meant to be, you become who he wants you to be.  If you’re going from relationship to relationship, addicted to the feeling of being needed and wanted, how will you ever know what you’re worth?  Worth is not defined by the number of flowers he gives or the dates you go on or the flattering things he says about you.  Worth is defined in moments of solitude—with no one around, no compliments hanging over you, no arm to cling to.  Do you know you’re still valued even then?  But how can you know your value if you don’t know who created it?  If you don’t know you’re Creator, how will you know who you’re meant to be?  If you don’t know who you’re meant to be, you should not be in a relationship at all.  Singleness is a unique experience in life that builds strength, wisdom, and worth.  It is the time of undivided attention from the Lord and undivided loyalties to the Lord.  In Scripture, Paul wishes more people would remain single like him: “An unmarried man is concerned about the Lord’s affairs—how he can please the Lord.  But a married man is concerned about the affairs of this world—how he can please his wife—and his interests are divided...I’m saying this not to restrict you, but that you may live in a right way in undivided devotion to the Lord.” (1 Cor 7:32-35).  Furthermore, if we are constantly in relationships, there is only one form of love we are really experiencing.  But in my singleness, I have experienced love in so many different capacities that I have no need for romantic love.  Don’t get me wrong, I am a “hopeless romantic” and my movie collection is full of chick flicks because yes, I want it, I desire it, I sometimes crave it, but never have I needed it.  Because God’s love is SO LARGE that it goes beyond the love of a man.  If you want to find yourself, find God’s love without attachment to romances.  

4)    Find a new perspective.  As a teenager, I begged God numerous times for a boyfriend.  I grew depressed when He didn’t answer.  “If you’re a God of love, why don’t I feel loved?  I just want to be loved, is that too much to ask?”  As a new adult transitioning into college life, I still continued to complain to God about my singleness and I cried that He, again, wasn’t answering my plea for prince charming.  I was crippled by the moment, unable to acknowledge that God sees far more than me.  My perspective is so limited.  Just the other week, as I was praying in chapel about singleness and a future husband, two words stamped themselves clearly in my mind: Vantage Point.  It reminded me of a Ferris wheel.  I imagined a scene at a carnival and Jesus took me on a Ferris wheel ride. I sat with him as we made our way to the top of the Ferris wheel where the ride stopped.  At the very top, at the incredible vantage point, I gained a whole new perspective.  I could see the entire carnival grounds.  As the scenes continued to play out in my mind, God revealed to me that from the ground below, I can’t see very well.  I can only see the moment before me, and life from that view is crippling.  For instance, if there was a missing girl and I was asked to find her, I’d have to cover the entire carnival grounds over and over and over again trying to find her.  But from the top of the Ferris wheel, finding her would be much easier.  Likewise, if I were trying to find a husband, my search might take forever; whereas, if I refocused my attention instead on Jesus, I’d see from a whole new perspective.  I recently listened to the old country song from Garth Brooks that says, “Sometimes I thank God for unanswered prayers.  Just remember when you’re talking to the Man upstairs.  Just because He may not answer, doesn’t mean he don’t care.  One of God’s greatest gifts are unanswered prayers.”  The secret to being single is to stop being crippled by the moment—whether the tempting pleasures or the impending hopelessness of ever being in love—and start viewing life from a vantage point.  After all, a better perspective undoubtedly gives us better purpose.      

5)    Find purpose.  When I was 26, Fr. Joe, my spiritual mentor from college said, “Mary-Kate, don’t take your eyes off the mission for the man.” I have never forgotten that.  I’ve been tempted many times, and even recently, thinking that there is no way a man in his right mind would come join my life the way it is now.  But I cannot forsake my purpose.  It fits into the Ferris wheel story as well.  Imagine trying to find your single soulmate at a carnival with hundreds of thousands of people.  If you searched for this one person, you’d spend no time on rides, no time playing games, no time eating the funnel cake, and certainly no time helping others.  All your time would be spent with your eye on the man and you’d miss out on so much.  But now imagine your focus is not on the man, it’s on the mission.  A four-year-old girl goes missing and you decide to help find her. Pursuing the mission takes you to many places and you come across many different people.  And eventually you find the girl!  But guess what?  So did someone else—a stunning man who was also joined the task of finding this four-year-old.  Only because you both pursued the mission, did you end up finding each other.  But what if he had taken his eyes off the mission for another woman who caught his eye?  What if you had taken your eye off the mission for a man that beckoned your attention?  Whenever I get frustrated with singleness, I remember where it has taken me and I remember God’s perspective.  I smile and thank God for unanswered prayers.  I would not trade my mission for anything.  Furthering his lesson on purpose, my spiritual mentor also gave me advice about motherhood.  He said, “There’s motherhood like this,” and he cupped his hands together as if holding something precious in his hands, “where you build a family and have an impact on your children for generation after generation.  Or there’s motherhood like this,” and he stretched out his hands above his head, palms facing me, as if anointing a whole multitude before him.  “This motherhood you may not have children of your own, but you are mothering and leading multitudes of people at once.”  I asked, “Which one is better?”  He smiled, “Neither one is better than the other.  Both have impacts that are far reaching.  It’s simply about the will of God.  If you are in the will of God, you will have purpose that is immeasurable.”

6)    Become the one.  I was told once by the only man I’ve ever truly loved, “I’m not ready to be in a relationship because I have too many bad things I need to work on.  I can’t bring you into this mess yet.”  It was hard to hear but it was true.  I came to find out later that his “mess” revolved around his inability to be with just one woman.  Praise God he loved me enough to not allow me to enter fully into a relationship with him, even when I didn’t understand it in the moment.  Praise God that when the time came and I was about to give this man my heart, God revealed the truth to me.  My prayer for a husband has always been constant, but I always end it with this, “But Lord you have my heart.  I am yours.  I want You to give my heart away to the right man, not me.”  Marriage is not a time to fix each other.  Relationships can’t heal our faults.  Only God can.  The best advice I’ve received about being single is this, “It’s not about finding the one, it’s about becoming the one.”  I’ve learned so much about how much I need God to fix me.  I’ve learned so much about myself—who I’m not and who I want to be.  The secret to singleness is to stop focusing on “finding the one,” and make yourself ready when the time is right: become the one. 

The World's Greatest Missionaries

-- The greatest missionaries of all time --

He has taught me to never give up, to hold onto dreams even when they’re broken, when others scoff in disappointment.  He doesn’t have a college degree, but he doesn’t need one to be something or someone important.  He built his future with his hands, built a house, built a family, built a legacy of what it means to live a life of commitment, no matter the cost.

She has taught me that mission work is an everyday opportunity, whether staying on the phone for hours listening to a friend in need, or buying a sub sandwich for a stranger at the grocery store. She had big dreams, but she watched them disappear as five children took their place.  As a stay-at-home mom, she watched her “me time” fly out the window so she could teach her kids how to fly instead.

She taught me what it looks like to surrender.  She moved to Nashville, majoring in music performance, with a voice and body to make effortless records.  Growing up, she had captured the eyes of many men, but then she decided the only one that mattered was the One who created her.  She chose to deny herself, to become less, so He could become more.  A strong, loving husband and four children later, she still lives a life of surrender.   

He taught me imagination.  That the best things in life are born from creativity and the rebellion against sameness. He is brilliant, though his grades never showed it.  He taught me that the best way to learn how to build it is to break it.  That brokenness is not only okay, sometimes it’s necessary.  Rather than “If it’s not broken don’t fix it” mentality, he lives by “Make it better, even if you have to destroy it.”   

He taught me adventure.  That freedom comes from cutting off the worries of what other people think of you.  Or it comes from jumping out of a second story house to escape a mean babysitter (who happened to be his sister) who sent him to his room.  He constructed man-made bows and arrows by whittling sticks and using duct tape.  He reminded me that life is as joyful as you choose to see it.  Even the simplest things can be transformed, even the simplest tasks can turn to adventure.   

She taught me unconditional love.  Love without condition.  Love that was patient, and gentle.  Love that did not hold any record of wrongs.  Love that didn’t ask for something in return.  Love that didn’t seek attention, payback, or even appreciation.  She is the essence of peace.  Her spirit is like the gentle breeze that whispers through the pines. She is the least noticed of all, although she’s everything I’ve ever wanted to be.     

Steve, Peg, Emily, Justin, Garret, and Laura: the greatest missionaries of all time.  Because true missions starts at home.

So, to my true missionaries, the ones behind the scenes:

Dad and Mom,

I am a product of you—the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful.  And those little things.  Dad, I hate walking around barefoot on the kitchen floor when there’s crumbs on the ground or when it’s sticky.  Now I understand why you made us scrub that floor repeatedly, no matter how many times we claimed we washed it.  Thanks for the pet peeve.  Mom, now I understand why it took you forever to come sit down and join us for a movie or a game; while we were finally occupied, you finally had free time to clean and wash and scrub and sort and make muffins and popcorn and provide for us in every little way that we never thanked you for.  I hear both of your words come out of my mouth, and now I laugh and even smile.  Now I understand.   

Mom, we hated it when you were angry and hurting; it was the worst day in the world if I ever saw you cry (except for during movies when we’d make fun of you…and now even I can’t hold back tears during sappy moments! Eish!) because I felt it in my bones and it shook me, and I hated that feeling of helplessness.  And my girls feel the same way.  My mood affects them dramatically.  When I’m angry or hurting or lonely or upset, they all feel it; they hate it, too, because they feel helpless and try to avoid me during those moments.  But now I understand that in those moments, all you needed was a hug, a gesture to show that we noticed you were hurting; because, that’s all I want, too. 

Dad, now I understand why you didn’t like it when we laughed at the dinner table, and that you’d send us away if we kept laughing (which of course made us laugh even more).  Of course, we still think it’s absurd, and even my girls here couldn’t stop laughing when they heard the story of “grumpy mkhulu” at the dinner table, but… I can empathize.  It was because dinner time was your first moment of peace all day, after a long day of working with your bare hands in the sun, the heat, or the cold, building up your business that demanded everything but could take everything at any moment if you didn’t get enough bids.  I still remember moments of stress for you and Mom when you didn’t know if we’d have groceries on the table the following week.  But Dad, you never gave up.  You stuck through the worst of moments.  But those moments were often at times, and you just needed some quiet.  Instead there were five obnoxious children fighting and arguing and giggling and laughing and refusing to let you think.  I see the need for those moments in the noise of life here, too.        

To my older sister: I could not be more thankful that God chose you before me.  The Valentine’s baby.  The one whom everyone loved and adored.  Oh, how I followed you around everywhere. It’s crazy how much child #2 thinks the world of child #1.  I see that in Benji and Lucia.  Everything she says, Benny has to copy.  Which can be a great thing, but also… well, you know.  It didn’t matter that you were sometimes a mean babysitter and that you would hit me on the knees with a text book, thinking you could see my reflexes.  It didn’t matter that you didn’t believe in aliens or that you grew too old for cops and robbers.  You were my role model and my best friend.  We grew up on country music, but I remember the first time you introduced me to Christian music.  It was Casting Crowns.  I thought you were weird.  But I gave it a try because I loved you.  And then I fell in love with Christ and haven’t looked back since.  We shared a bedroom for most our lives, but most importantly we shared our hearts.  You didn’t know this but at night when you’d be on the phone or had just broken up with a boyfriend and you were crying, I’d cry into my pillow, too.  I pretended to be asleep, but I heard it all.  I hated to see you hurting.  So when you crawled into my bed one night and squealed with delight into my ear that you were engaged, I couldn’t have been happier. I mean, at first I thought you were being stupid and I told you to go away because I was sleeping, but then you shoved the beautiful ring in my face and asked me to be your maid of honor, and indeed that was one of the greatest moments of honor I’ve ever felt.  Em, I love you more than you can ever know.

 

To my brothers:  My brothers of imagination and adventure.  I am me because of you.  Do you know that?  I mean, really.  My fondest moments of childhood revolve around you two.  Turning the picnic table over to pretend it’s a ship and sail to the far seas (who would’ve thought I’d actually make it to the Indian Ocean?); or climbing up your bunkbeds and piling our pillows below, pretending we are in an airplane and Pilot Justin tells us to “Bail out, bail out” so we jump off the bunk bed yelling, “Geronimo!”; or building a tree fort at the cabin and playing imaginery games; or canoeing around the lake and investigating the swamp; clearing off the snow in winter to make an ice hockey rink; playing orphans (I mean, really? Who does that?) and using the row boat to pretend we were escaping from evil owner Rita, of course played by our big sis Emily; or starting a detective club and Justin making ID cards for us; or all the awesome movies we made (but Laura taped over because she just had to record “Homeward Bound”).  Justin, you know I regret that growing up made us grow apart.  That being one year apart during high school polarized us in some ways.  But we found our comradery again.  You make me laugh like no one else.  More than that, your laugh is one of the absolute best.  I love the way you giggle at movies like Emperor’s New Groove and the way you make Mom giggle so much she pees her pants.  I love hearing you sing.  I know I pretended not to be a fan of your band in high school, but I still play your old songs to the girls here in Swazi, and they, too, adore you.  And Garret, you know how much I cherished our time together when you moved to La Crosse when I was a super senior.  Our bluff hikes, night hikes, crazy dances, teaching youth ministry together, Culvers, CRU, Newman, getting furious at each other, but talking it out on our two hour rides home.  You are so much like me in so many ways, that it drives both of us crazy sometimes.  But I can relate to you so well.  You are the best person I have ever gotten in a fight with, because you know how to talk me through things.  You don’t let me push my way, though I’ve come to learn I am so stuck on doing things “my” way (eish, sorry!), but you show me how silly my stubbornness is and yet you love me anyway.  You are one of my best friends because you make me a better person.  Oh, my brothers of imagination and adventure.  There is no way, no way, I could live in Swaziland had it not been for you.  

To my baby sis: You’ve grown up in the shadow of two big sisters and two social butterfly brothers.  You’ve looked up to me, to us.  But actually, I crave to be like you every day. You’d put my love to shame if it ever were to be laid next to yours.  Your humility is convicting, your peace is captivating, your beauty is everlasting.  You will undoubtedly make the most amazing wife and mother someday.  Whoever the young man is who wins you over will be the most well-loved (and well-fed) man in this world. You moved to my city to be my roommate for one year, even though you had job opportunities in a different city.  But you chose to listen to that still small voice from the Lord and I became your ministry.  As my roommate in that awesome house on the Brownsville farm, you ministered to me in ways you never even knew.  When loneliness and stress of teaching got the best of me, you were there.  You woke up in the morning to heat up hot chocolate and put it in a travel mug, knowing I’d be running late.  You made me homemade bagels and introduced me to healthy foods I loved but would’ve never discovered nor tried on my own.  You sat in the stands to cheer on my basketball girls when I coached.  You kept me from many temptations.  You were my angel that year, and you always have been.  Furthermore, during the most miraculous of moments in Swazi, who was at my side or sharing a bed with me when I was scared? You!  Thank you for showing the most real form of unconditional love I have seen manifested by a human being. When I grow up, I want to be like my little sis.  

To the greatest missionaries of all time: Thank you for teaching me how to fight, how to cry, how to apologize, how to forgive, how to surrender, how to let go, how to hold on, how to live with you and how to live without you.  Thank you for seeing me as nothing more than who I am—flawed, stubborn, hard-headed, emotional, rude, broken, and a sinner in need of a Savior—and loving me anyway.  Thank you for teaching me that true missions starts at home.  I carry you with me.  

  

“What can you do to promote world peace?  Go home and love your family.”  

-Mother Teresa