Written By : Marnie Pouget
Once upon a time, in a town not so far away, an idea for a book was born. “Diary of an Old Maid” was the first title
I chose for it– I was twenty-four years old.
I am sure that sounds quite ridiculous, twenty-four seems a bit young to be labelled as such but at that time, I felt old.
My friends were finding “the one” and walking down the aisle before me. Regular questions of “Do you have a boyfriend?” or “Any men in your life?” peppered every conversation, or so it seemed, and I felt somehow that when I answered “no”
I came up lacking…
To be honest, my single state was certainly not my plan.
I recall in ninth grade being vocal that I wanted to be married and have a dozen children. In grade thirteen, my Art History teacher asked the class to share their life goals, mine was to be a wife and mother.
Through high school and beyond I was on the hunt for
“the one”. My other half. The person who would meet all my needs. That special someone that would complete me.
In my later teen years my plan was to be married by the age of twenty and have all of my children by the time I was twenty-five (clearly my desire for a dozen children had changed somewhere in there, likely through the influence of one of the boys on whom I had set my sights).
For various reasons, the dream of an early marriage was unfulfilled and I continued to question my value. I had searched for significance and found myself wanting. Like many, I believed that my worth was dependent on the wavering attentions of the opposite sex.
I desired love and approval and wholeness.
I began a journey that would take three years to begin.
A journey of identification and acceptance…
One of the first lessons I needed to learn was that I am “worth it”. Me. Alone. Without anyone else. I have intrinsic value. I am created in the image of the Almighty God. He knit me together in my mother’s womb and I am fearfully and wonderfully made (Ps 139:13,14). I love the visual of knitting – it is a two handed process with intention.
I have the handprints of God all over me.
A dearer price could not have been paid.
My value is immeasurable.
I am HIS. His because He made me. His because He paid for me. I am wanted and valued. ME. Alone.
What a thrill it was to embrace that truth and to accept that, with Him, I am complete. Lacking nothing. Complete in Christ. I stopped looking for my “soul mate”, my “other half” and became content just me and Jesus. (I recall saying out loud to God “I will get married one day if you dump a guy in my lap with a sign over his head that says “marry him” otherwise, I am good – just You and me.”).
I recently learned the history of this theory of the “soul mate”. In Greek Mythology (though we call them myths, the ancient people really did live by these beliefs) it is said that humans were born with four arms and legs, two heads etc.
Humans began to think they could become gods which angered the reigning gods, so Zeus split each human in half and they spent the rest of their days roaming earth searching for their other half. What a far cry from the beautiful love story that we have romanticized the “soul mate” to be.
How sidetracked I was through the years searching for my missing half. How much time I wasted being discontent and wallowing in my “incompleteness”.
I know I am not alone. Over the ages we have missed the full message of the Gospel. We often end our understanding at recognizing we are a sinner, in need of a Saviour. We accept Christ’s death as payment for our sins and rejoice that He rose again and is preparing a place for us. Our past is dealt with and our future is sealed but our present somehow lacks the vibrancy of a life redeemed unless we recognize our completeness in Christ and walk in it.
We need to be less concerned with how and when we find “the one” and more concerned with pursuing THE One. The lover of our souls. The author and perfecter of our faith. (Heb. 12:2).
“A woman’s heart should be so hidden in God that a man has to seek Him just to find her.”
How thankful I am that my journey began with three years of singleness. A time of tremendous growth and reflection. Though I wasn’t always content at the beginning, I wouldn’t trade those years. When I embraced my wholeness in Christ, I found purpose and contentment. Me. Alone.