Have you ever been extremely frustrated with God? I'll admit it: I am.
I don't think I could pinpoint another period in my life where I have ever been as frustrated with Him as I am right now. It's not one of my proudest confessions.
Let me clue you in.
Right now, I feel like God put a singular door in front of me and told me to open it. Admittedly, it was a tough door for me to open because it came with a lot of risk. But I listened.
So I open the door and, lo and behold, I find a long hallway of doors on the other side. Awesome right?! So many doors. So many options. So many possibilities. In my mind, my life was about to take off.
Not so much. Let's fast forward a little bit.
Right now, I feel as if I have made it to the end of that hallway without making any step toward progress. I feel as if I opened every single one of those doors in that seemingly opportunistic hallway, only have them slammed in my face just moments later.
So, where do I go when I am at the end of the hallway that God asked me to walk into the in the first place? Why was I sent down a hallway of pathless doors? What is the purpose of getting my hopes up?
I ask Him these questions every day and I continue to tell myself there is an underlying purpose because He does, in fact, know what He is doing.
Disregard my cliche Christian girl quote here, but the man Francis Chan said it best: “Can you worship a God who isn't obligated to explain His actions to you? Could it be your arrogance that makes you think God owes you an explanation?”
True that Mr. Chan. And I completely agree. God owes me nothing. My struggle here is not that fact that I can't understand God because, well, that's inevitable. And regardless of how frustrated I am, I don't underestimate His ability to take care of me or put me on the path He needs.
Here is my struggle: I just sincerely wish my heart wasn't so bitter while trying to be patient for that slam-less door.
Here's another Chan quote for you: “When I am consumed by my problems-stressed out about my life, my family, and my job-I actually convey the belief that I think the circumstances are more important than God's command to always rejoice.”
Is that where I have fallen? That I am so consumed by my circumstances that I have harbored such bitterness in my heart that I am completely blind to any joy that God is trying to give me? Have I reached that level?
I was talking to one of my best friends on the phone a few weeks ago. It was late and I was walking back from sitting on the beach. Now, don't find me weird, but the beach is where I feel closest to God. For some reason, sitting on the beach at night near the ocean makes me feel small--in a good way--and I am able to really just sit, think and connect. But this particular time, I felt oddly disconnected and I called my friend in a mild panic, saying, "I can't hear Him. I always have the best quiet time at the beach but now I can't even hear him there. What do I do?"
Her response, as always, was straight forward and honest.
"Then you keep trying. He may not want to you to hear Him right now, but gosh darnit, you keep trying. You don't stop."
She's right, you know. Sometimes God wants you to hear Him and sometimes I think He intentionally remains silent.
I think that is where I am at. God is giving me the silent treatment right now. He's trying to teach me something. I've reached a point where I am so engulfed in the circumstances of my life that I have let them control my joy, not Him. I have put my trust in them, not Him. So here I stand, upset and frustrated.
I may be frustrated but I guess the best lessons to be learned will never be the easiest to grasp.
God had his moment of "conversation" with me when He told me to open that first door. But now, in this idiotic hallway of slamming doors, He is silent. Waiting. Watching. It's almost as if He is giving me the opportunity to completely trust Him and seeing if I will actually walk the walk.
Friday, December 26, 2014
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Hello, I'm Insecure.
No matter how much I try to argue myself out of it, there will always be things about myself that I don’t like. I will always have insecurities, and they will always be an uphill battle of pep-talks, sideways comments, and blushing cheeks.
But, even though these insecurities will never disappear, here is my attempt to convince myself that it is, in fact, going to be okay.
My birthmark has been with me, obviously, since birth. It’s rather large and obnoxious, rivaling the size of Texas or a small horse (in my opinion at least). I honestly didn’t even think twice about it’s existence until about the end of elementary school or beginning of middle school. That was when other kids my age started pointing it out, and they assumed it was a burn, or poison ivy, or some mega-contagious rash. And it was always a bother to have to explain that it was just my skin: normal, non-contagious, non-fungal, and non-painful. Just skin, that happens to be red in some areas on my wrist, hand, and fingers.
In all honestly, I don’t know why this birthmark is such an insecurity for me. I have yet to meet a single person who was disgusted by it, or changed their interactions with me based on it. Everyone understands. Everyone else likes my birthmark. Except me, and I don’t know why.
Then there is this beauty. My infamous scar from my broken-arm surgery, and it happens to be on the same arm as my birthmark. In short, my whole left arm is just kind of pathetic looking. I would love to go one day without a complete stranger pointing out my “one heck of a scar!” Or looking shockingly at my arm only to exclaim in the loudest voice possible, “That musta hurt!” I always feel like responding in some sarcastic way–“No, duh sir. It hurt a whole heck of a lot.” But, I refrain. Mainly because I know 99% of the people that point it out don’t intend to be mean, they are just curious and empathetic.
This scar is so new. It’s only a year or two old, but the sense of insecurity it gives me feels like it has lasted a lifetime. In my mind, it is extremely large, annoyingly bumpy, and stubborn. It just won’t disappear or fade.
Big insecurity number three: my glasses. I can sum up my feelings about having to wear glasses in one word: abhor.
This is more of a mental insecurity, than it is a physical one. For the most part, I actually like the way my glasses look on my face. Nah, this insecurity is more than just the way I look; it is the way I feel.
It all started when I was around six years old. That was when I was told I needed glasses. My first pair were extremely large and round (just imagine a typical 90s pair of glasses). And, not only did I need glasses, but I needed to wear an eye patch too. The doctors thought that if I covered up my good eye with an eye patch, it would force my bad eye to work harder, and in turn, make it stronger to improve the sight. So, for months on end, I was the girl at day care walking around with this eye patch. I remember it clearly. My mom even let me color on it with markers to make myself feel better about wearing it. I hated standing out like that. And the smell of those sticky eye patches wasn’t too enjoyable either.
Then we get to the magnification dilemma. The prescription in one eye is so much stronger than the other eye, that without special lenses, my eyes look like completely too different sizes when I put my glasses on. Seriously, I could walk into a fun house and the funky mirrors would probably make it look more normal. I didn’t notice it for awhile, but once I did, everyone else did too. Around middle school too, that was fun.
So we have eye patches, and then we had different sized eyes.
Next we have my complete dependence on them. I remember in middle school, I was supposed to give this speech at an induction for our honor society. At the time, I didn’t have contacts. But, I didn’t want to wear my glasses because we were supposed to “dress up.” And I simply didn’t feel pretty with glasses on, so I didn’t wear them. Not a good idea–the moment I stepped up to the podium to read my section of the speech, the entire page went blurry and my eyes went out of focus from the bright stage lights. I stood there, wide-mouthed, speechless, and embarrassed, as the entire assembly just stared at me. I ran off stage and had to put my speech on hold for a few minutes while I looked for my glasses. So, not only did I have an embarrassing moment, I had to return to stage feeling much less “pretty” with my glasses on.
My most recent issue with these glasses is my sense of identity. Okay, okay, I hope I’m not losing you here, but just stay with me. When I think about myself and what I look like, I do not picture myself with glasses on. I feel better without them off. I feel more like myself without glasses on my face. Yet, as I got older, people started identifying me as the girl with glasses. Innocent pictures drawn of me included glasses. People always throw comments at me like “Oh, I’m so used to you with glasses on” or “You look different! Oh, it’s because you aren’t wearing glasses.” Oy vey; I absolutely despise comments like that simply because I don’t identify myself as a person with glasses. So, when other people do, I easily get self-conscious.
So, if you see what I mean, I am not as much physically insecure with my glasses. I am insecure with my dependence on them, and their constant ability to make me stand out.
My last, and less literally pictured, insecurity are my two-left feet. Obviously, I don’t mean literally. But, my clumsiness, while most of the time is funny, is really embarrassing.
I don’t know why, but I just can’t seem to get it under control. I am little sick of being the girl that is always falling, tripping, spilling, breaking, or bumping things. A majority, if not all, of the embarrassing moments in my life are due to the fact that I cannot control my own body.
Yes, these are my four biggest insecurities.
Yes, these will always be present in my life.
No amount of “It will be okay” or “You are still beautiful” sort of comments will change it.
But, I post this as a medicine to myself. To tell myself that it’s okay to have insecurities. I’m allowed to feel self-conscious sometimes.
The difference lies in the response to these insecurities. I could either wallow in self pity, which I had the habit of doing. Or, just embrace them
My biggest remedy just comes with talking to God, and saying “Hey God, this is how I feel. But, I know you made me this way, so, all in all, I’m okay with it.”
Feelings can only go so far. Decisions–to embrace, love, and accept your insecurities–go farther.
So, here it is folks: Hi, my name is Taylor and I am insecure. And I’m okay with that.
But, even though these insecurities will never disappear, here is my attempt to convince myself that it is, in fact, going to be okay.
My birthmark has been with me, obviously, since birth. It’s rather large and obnoxious, rivaling the size of Texas or a small horse (in my opinion at least). I honestly didn’t even think twice about it’s existence until about the end of elementary school or beginning of middle school. That was when other kids my age started pointing it out, and they assumed it was a burn, or poison ivy, or some mega-contagious rash. And it was always a bother to have to explain that it was just my skin: normal, non-contagious, non-fungal, and non-painful. Just skin, that happens to be red in some areas on my wrist, hand, and fingers.
In all honestly, I don’t know why this birthmark is such an insecurity for me. I have yet to meet a single person who was disgusted by it, or changed their interactions with me based on it. Everyone understands. Everyone else likes my birthmark. Except me, and I don’t know why.
Then there is this beauty. My infamous scar from my broken-arm surgery, and it happens to be on the same arm as my birthmark. In short, my whole left arm is just kind of pathetic looking. I would love to go one day without a complete stranger pointing out my “one heck of a scar!” Or looking shockingly at my arm only to exclaim in the loudest voice possible, “That musta hurt!” I always feel like responding in some sarcastic way–“No, duh sir. It hurt a whole heck of a lot.” But, I refrain. Mainly because I know 99% of the people that point it out don’t intend to be mean, they are just curious and empathetic.
This scar is so new. It’s only a year or two old, but the sense of insecurity it gives me feels like it has lasted a lifetime. In my mind, it is extremely large, annoyingly bumpy, and stubborn. It just won’t disappear or fade.
Big insecurity number three: my glasses. I can sum up my feelings about having to wear glasses in one word: abhor.
This is more of a mental insecurity, than it is a physical one. For the most part, I actually like the way my glasses look on my face. Nah, this insecurity is more than just the way I look; it is the way I feel.
It all started when I was around six years old. That was when I was told I needed glasses. My first pair were extremely large and round (just imagine a typical 90s pair of glasses). And, not only did I need glasses, but I needed to wear an eye patch too. The doctors thought that if I covered up my good eye with an eye patch, it would force my bad eye to work harder, and in turn, make it stronger to improve the sight. So, for months on end, I was the girl at day care walking around with this eye patch. I remember it clearly. My mom even let me color on it with markers to make myself feel better about wearing it. I hated standing out like that. And the smell of those sticky eye patches wasn’t too enjoyable either.
Then we get to the magnification dilemma. The prescription in one eye is so much stronger than the other eye, that without special lenses, my eyes look like completely too different sizes when I put my glasses on. Seriously, I could walk into a fun house and the funky mirrors would probably make it look more normal. I didn’t notice it for awhile, but once I did, everyone else did too. Around middle school too, that was fun.
So we have eye patches, and then we had different sized eyes.
Next we have my complete dependence on them. I remember in middle school, I was supposed to give this speech at an induction for our honor society. At the time, I didn’t have contacts. But, I didn’t want to wear my glasses because we were supposed to “dress up.” And I simply didn’t feel pretty with glasses on, so I didn’t wear them. Not a good idea–the moment I stepped up to the podium to read my section of the speech, the entire page went blurry and my eyes went out of focus from the bright stage lights. I stood there, wide-mouthed, speechless, and embarrassed, as the entire assembly just stared at me. I ran off stage and had to put my speech on hold for a few minutes while I looked for my glasses. So, not only did I have an embarrassing moment, I had to return to stage feeling much less “pretty” with my glasses on.
My most recent issue with these glasses is my sense of identity. Okay, okay, I hope I’m not losing you here, but just stay with me. When I think about myself and what I look like, I do not picture myself with glasses on. I feel better without them off. I feel more like myself without glasses on my face. Yet, as I got older, people started identifying me as the girl with glasses. Innocent pictures drawn of me included glasses. People always throw comments at me like “Oh, I’m so used to you with glasses on” or “You look different! Oh, it’s because you aren’t wearing glasses.” Oy vey; I absolutely despise comments like that simply because I don’t identify myself as a person with glasses. So, when other people do, I easily get self-conscious.
So, if you see what I mean, I am not as much physically insecure with my glasses. I am insecure with my dependence on them, and their constant ability to make me stand out.
My last, and less literally pictured, insecurity are my two-left feet. Obviously, I don’t mean literally. But, my clumsiness, while most of the time is funny, is really embarrassing.
I don’t know why, but I just can’t seem to get it under control. I am little sick of being the girl that is always falling, tripping, spilling, breaking, or bumping things. A majority, if not all, of the embarrassing moments in my life are due to the fact that I cannot control my own body.
Yes, these are my four biggest insecurities.
Yes, these will always be present in my life.
No amount of “It will be okay” or “You are still beautiful” sort of comments will change it.
But, I post this as a medicine to myself. To tell myself that it’s okay to have insecurities. I’m allowed to feel self-conscious sometimes.
The difference lies in the response to these insecurities. I could either wallow in self pity, which I had the habit of doing. Or, just embrace them
My biggest remedy just comes with talking to God, and saying “Hey God, this is how I feel. But, I know you made me this way, so, all in all, I’m okay with it.”
Feelings can only go so far. Decisions–to embrace, love, and accept your insecurities–go farther.
So, here it is folks: Hi, my name is Taylor and I am insecure. And I’m okay with that.
A Man Worth the Wait
Guilty as charged: I am a girl, and I have a thorough list of the qualities I look for in my future husband.
Don’t lie–you have one too. Whether or not yours is physically written down (my list may or may not be in my journal, rewritten and edited several times), you have one. It’s floating in that little head of yours, somewhere.
I’ve put a lot of thought into the qualities I look for in my future husband. My recent inner peace with my own single-hood lead me to realize a couple of things.
One; I don’t mind patiently waiting until God gives me my man. I know that my man will be handcrafted by God, for me, and well worth the wait.
And two, high expectations aren’t a bad thing. All things are possible with God, so knowing what to look for in a future husband (even if the list is extensive and detailed) isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Realistic? Maybe, maybe not. But, it keeps me on my toes and is a constant reminder to never settle for anything less.
Okay, now I’m starting to sound like a cheesy fortune cookie.
So, what are my top ten qualities on this recently revised and highly thought out list of qualities I’m looking for?
1. His love for God is unconditional and contagious.
I need a man who is just as passionate about serving the Lord as I am. In fact, I need him to love God more than me, and be a spiritual leader in our relationship. I need a man who isn’t afraid to walk across the room and ask a stranger if he needs a prayer, or afraid to lift his hands up in worship amongst a large crowd. I need a man who doesn’t base his relationship with God on how he is “feels”–happy, sad, angry, frustrated, depressed, or hopeful. In all times and emotions, I want my husband to strive towards God with me.
2. He is unconditionally loving of everyone and truly embodies Jesus’ well-known title “friend of sinners.”
There are many people in this world. And, big shocker here: we are all sinners. I need a husband who embraces the fact that he is a sinner himself, and uses that to love the people around him. Does that make sense? Everyone is important, and everyone deserves to be loved. I mean, for heavens sake, Jesus ate dinner with tax collectors, befriended prostitutes, and forgave the people that everyone else at the time considered “bad people.” I hope my husband can reflect that love in his own life, and refuse to pass judgment or block himself away from fellow sinners who desperately need Jesus as much as we do.
3. He bears fruit using whatever talents, characteristics, or quirks God has given him.
As much as I rave about wanting a guy who can serenade me with an acoustic guitar and angelic singing voice, I honestly could care less about the talents and interests he has. As long has he is passionate about what he does, and uses his talents in a way that glorifies God, I will love him.
4. He is tactfully outspoken.
I am not exactly known for being the most outspoken person. In fact, you could say I’m quite an introvert, so in turn, a lot of my thoughts and feelings tend to not make it out of my own brain. And from experience, two quiet souls in one relationship does not work well because communication is lacking. And, to add to that, I tend to get extremely lost in my own thoughts and I avoid confrontation like the plague. Therefore, having a bit a of that ying to my yang is a necessity. So, I need a man who is able to speak out, speak up, and speak the truth even when I don’t want to hear it. But, with that being said, I don’t need a man who uses his extroverted self to talk down to me. No–I need a man who will talk with me. Yes–there is a difference.
5. He isn’t afraid to use his mind in creative, intelligent or sensitive ways.
I am so over the extreme-macho psyche that men nowadays seem to cling to. Athleticism, bravery, strength: sure that is all fine and dandy. But, I need a bit more that that. I love a man who isn’t afraid to write a little love note and leave it on the counter. Or, watch TED talks just for the heck of it because it makes you think. Or, engage in deep conversations late at night, when we can’t sleep, about Ed Sheeran’s latest song’s lyrics or the book of Proverbs. Or, go to an art museum or puppy store with me, and genuinely enjoy it. Guys, it really is okay–no one is going to take your man card away from you.
6. He is able to teach and be taught.
There is something to be said about someone that has something to offer, but at the same time, can take correction with a humble heart. Humility is such an admirable characteristic.
7. He embraces his inner nerd.
What can I say? I’m a bit of a nerd. I love weird and quirky things. Like loose-leaf tea, cheesy boy bands, Broadway music, thrift store shopping, knitting, gigantic dogs, and British accents. I enjoy dancing like and idiot in the car to Chris Tomlin’s lastest hit and quoting every line to Lion King. I stay up late to write random stories or sketch pointless things. So, I feel as if my husband needs to be a nerd at heart too. I could care less if he likes the same weird things as me. But if he is a bit weird, knows it, and is confident in his own weirdness, then we’d be a quite a pair. Our quirkiness and humor would keep a smile on my face.
8. He cherishes growth, learning, and adventure.
My mom constantly tells me that I am really bad at “enjoying the moment I am in.” I have never been good at schedules, consistency, and sameness. I like moving, learning, and growing. Ideas like moving across the world to be a missionary don’t scare me. And, I’m always wanting to learn something new–heck, in the past year or two I’ve learned how to surf, play the ukelele, and knit. My hobbies are about has stable as Kim Kardashian’s last marriage–sometimes I like painting, sometimes it’s hiking, and sometimes it’s reading. So, if the idea of spontaneity, travel, and learning new things scares my husband, then that might not be such a good thing.
9. He is someone that I genuinely believe is out of my league.
I don’t care what he looks like. But I hope that this man of mine is someone that I am extremely attracted to, and love so much that I question every day why he chose me. And, I hope he thinks the same about me. Wouldn’t it be beautiful if we were so amazed by the other, that we were in awe and eternally thankful, everyday, that they chose us? And vice versa?
And 10. He has areas where he fails. And I can help, serve, and work through these areas with him. And vice versa.
I’m not under the assumption that marriage is all unicorns and rainbows. I am painfully aware that much of marriage is a struggle because, in all reality, it is a relationship between two humans, and us humans are not perfect. I know my man will have issues, baggage, failures, and problems. But, if I am to be a good wife to him, I will be able to help and serve him in the way that he needs. And, he can do the same for me. It’s a like a puzzle piece–we may not be perfectly shaped, but we connect to each other in a way that makes us complete.
And there you have it, folks. My semi-shortened, yet very thorough, list of my desirable characteristics for my future husband.
Of course, this is only my list. God my have a completely different idea of marriage for me than the ones I have daydreamed above. But, until then, I will bask in the idea that God is writing my love story, and enjoy the promise that He has a plan for me.
Any thoughts from you ladies out there? What sort of things are you hopeful for in your future men?
Don’t lie–you have one too. Whether or not yours is physically written down (my list may or may not be in my journal, rewritten and edited several times), you have one. It’s floating in that little head of yours, somewhere.
I’ve put a lot of thought into the qualities I look for in my future husband. My recent inner peace with my own single-hood lead me to realize a couple of things.
One; I don’t mind patiently waiting until God gives me my man. I know that my man will be handcrafted by God, for me, and well worth the wait.
And two, high expectations aren’t a bad thing. All things are possible with God, so knowing what to look for in a future husband (even if the list is extensive and detailed) isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Realistic? Maybe, maybe not. But, it keeps me on my toes and is a constant reminder to never settle for anything less.
Okay, now I’m starting to sound like a cheesy fortune cookie.
So, what are my top ten qualities on this recently revised and highly thought out list of qualities I’m looking for?
1. His love for God is unconditional and contagious.
I need a man who is just as passionate about serving the Lord as I am. In fact, I need him to love God more than me, and be a spiritual leader in our relationship. I need a man who isn’t afraid to walk across the room and ask a stranger if he needs a prayer, or afraid to lift his hands up in worship amongst a large crowd. I need a man who doesn’t base his relationship with God on how he is “feels”–happy, sad, angry, frustrated, depressed, or hopeful. In all times and emotions, I want my husband to strive towards God with me.
2. He is unconditionally loving of everyone and truly embodies Jesus’ well-known title “friend of sinners.”
There are many people in this world. And, big shocker here: we are all sinners. I need a husband who embraces the fact that he is a sinner himself, and uses that to love the people around him. Does that make sense? Everyone is important, and everyone deserves to be loved. I mean, for heavens sake, Jesus ate dinner with tax collectors, befriended prostitutes, and forgave the people that everyone else at the time considered “bad people.” I hope my husband can reflect that love in his own life, and refuse to pass judgment or block himself away from fellow sinners who desperately need Jesus as much as we do.
3. He bears fruit using whatever talents, characteristics, or quirks God has given him.
As much as I rave about wanting a guy who can serenade me with an acoustic guitar and angelic singing voice, I honestly could care less about the talents and interests he has. As long has he is passionate about what he does, and uses his talents in a way that glorifies God, I will love him.
4. He is tactfully outspoken.
I am not exactly known for being the most outspoken person. In fact, you could say I’m quite an introvert, so in turn, a lot of my thoughts and feelings tend to not make it out of my own brain. And from experience, two quiet souls in one relationship does not work well because communication is lacking. And, to add to that, I tend to get extremely lost in my own thoughts and I avoid confrontation like the plague. Therefore, having a bit a of that ying to my yang is a necessity. So, I need a man who is able to speak out, speak up, and speak the truth even when I don’t want to hear it. But, with that being said, I don’t need a man who uses his extroverted self to talk down to me. No–I need a man who will talk with me. Yes–there is a difference.
5. He isn’t afraid to use his mind in creative, intelligent or sensitive ways.
I am so over the extreme-macho psyche that men nowadays seem to cling to. Athleticism, bravery, strength: sure that is all fine and dandy. But, I need a bit more that that. I love a man who isn’t afraid to write a little love note and leave it on the counter. Or, watch TED talks just for the heck of it because it makes you think. Or, engage in deep conversations late at night, when we can’t sleep, about Ed Sheeran’s latest song’s lyrics or the book of Proverbs. Or, go to an art museum or puppy store with me, and genuinely enjoy it. Guys, it really is okay–no one is going to take your man card away from you.
6. He is able to teach and be taught.
There is something to be said about someone that has something to offer, but at the same time, can take correction with a humble heart. Humility is such an admirable characteristic.
7. He embraces his inner nerd.
What can I say? I’m a bit of a nerd. I love weird and quirky things. Like loose-leaf tea, cheesy boy bands, Broadway music, thrift store shopping, knitting, gigantic dogs, and British accents. I enjoy dancing like and idiot in the car to Chris Tomlin’s lastest hit and quoting every line to Lion King. I stay up late to write random stories or sketch pointless things. So, I feel as if my husband needs to be a nerd at heart too. I could care less if he likes the same weird things as me. But if he is a bit weird, knows it, and is confident in his own weirdness, then we’d be a quite a pair. Our quirkiness and humor would keep a smile on my face.
8. He cherishes growth, learning, and adventure.
My mom constantly tells me that I am really bad at “enjoying the moment I am in.” I have never been good at schedules, consistency, and sameness. I like moving, learning, and growing. Ideas like moving across the world to be a missionary don’t scare me. And, I’m always wanting to learn something new–heck, in the past year or two I’ve learned how to surf, play the ukelele, and knit. My hobbies are about has stable as Kim Kardashian’s last marriage–sometimes I like painting, sometimes it’s hiking, and sometimes it’s reading. So, if the idea of spontaneity, travel, and learning new things scares my husband, then that might not be such a good thing.
9. He is someone that I genuinely believe is out of my league.
I don’t care what he looks like. But I hope that this man of mine is someone that I am extremely attracted to, and love so much that I question every day why he chose me. And, I hope he thinks the same about me. Wouldn’t it be beautiful if we were so amazed by the other, that we were in awe and eternally thankful, everyday, that they chose us? And vice versa?
And 10. He has areas where he fails. And I can help, serve, and work through these areas with him. And vice versa.
I’m not under the assumption that marriage is all unicorns and rainbows. I am painfully aware that much of marriage is a struggle because, in all reality, it is a relationship between two humans, and us humans are not perfect. I know my man will have issues, baggage, failures, and problems. But, if I am to be a good wife to him, I will be able to help and serve him in the way that he needs. And, he can do the same for me. It’s a like a puzzle piece–we may not be perfectly shaped, but we connect to each other in a way that makes us complete.
And there you have it, folks. My semi-shortened, yet very thorough, list of my desirable characteristics for my future husband.
Of course, this is only my list. God my have a completely different idea of marriage for me than the ones I have daydreamed above. But, until then, I will bask in the idea that God is writing my love story, and enjoy the promise that He has a plan for me.
Any thoughts from you ladies out there? What sort of things are you hopeful for in your future men?
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