An uncomfortably frank confession.
I didn’t originally plan to share this on this blog. I debated whether or not to make this private. I questioned whether or not I should share it. I’ve previously mentioned or alluded to a lot of the thoughts I express here, but everything’s been more connected, more difficult, and more prevalent lately.
And, I think there’s a benefit to being open and honest about these struggles. Because, I’m sure I can’t be the only one who feels these things or struggles with these temptations.
The other week, my friend and I were talking about the moments when we want a significant other. We’ve both said, several times, how we’d be really okay if God chose to keep us single forever (though, neither of us can actually see that being God’s plan for either of us). So, she told me how she realized that the times when she said that she wanted a boyfriend, she didn’t actually want one. What she really wants is a husband.
And, it was funny because I’ve also been realizing what I really want and don’t want when I say that I want to get married.
My realization has been the opposite of my friend’s. I mean, I still would like to get married young (time is running out for that), but the thought of stepping into that permanent commitment scares the crap out of me (#comittmentissues).
What I really want right now is not a relationship that’s in the fast lane towards marriage.
What I want is a boyfriend, and just that.
I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, reassessing my life, examining the inner turmoil of my heart that manifests in terribly ugly sins, and I’ve been seeing some of the roots of that desire.
Earlier in the summer, a sister told me that she thinks I’m on the way to being ready for a relationship. And honestly, I thought so too. I felt fairly confident that I was getting there, that I was finally reaching a point of maturity and faith where I was ready for a godly relationship.
The past few weeks have taught me otherwise.
Or, maybe I was ready. But, I let myself retrogress at record speed.
Either way, I’m actually nowhere near ready.
I’ve realized that I really just want comfort. I want shoulders to lean on when I’m sad. I want someone to hold my hand when I cry.
I want someone to hold my hand, just because I like holding hands.
I crave physical comforts and pleasures – hugging, holding hands, snuggling, kissing. And, I want to be able to do those things with someone without feeling guilty.
If he’s my boyfriend, it’s obviously not weird for me to wrap my arms around him or lean into him during a movie.
But, I also have this twisted idea that having a boyfriend will make it easier for me to overcome my habitual sins, to say no to my flesh.
In reality, with where I am, we wouldn’t be protecting each other. I’d be dragging him through the mud and sin with me.
My purity has been compromised, again and again. I’ve never had great self-restraint. But, I had this idea in my head that if I had a boyfriend, I’d be more compelled to protect my purity, to say no to myself. I keep thinking that if I had a boyfriend, I would be motivated to take my godliness much more seriously, to pursue it more fervently. If I had a boyfriend, there’d be no temptation with other boys.
Even though I know better, I guess at the end of the day, I didn’t really know better?
I hoped to find a guy so that he could be for me, what God needs to be.
God needs to be the reason I protect my purity. God needs to be the reason I pursue godliness. God needs to be the comforter I seek.
A collection 