Confessions of a Christian Spinster

It seems like every single twenty-something female Christian blogger has to write a post on singleness, so here goes, friends.
Back in the day, spinster was just a term used to refer to an unmarried woman. Until pretty recently it was used on documents like marriage licenses. My mind goes right to Mary Bennett from BBC's 1995 Pride and Prejudice.

Anyway, sometimes in my experiences in the church as a single woman, I feel like people see me as a spinster. This is a lot different than how I see myself. You may think I am being paranoid. But no, as any single lady in the church can tell you, we get a lot of prying comments ("Any men in your life?"), well-meaning comments ("My grandson is your age..."), and just plain weird comments ("When are you going to give your parents a grandchild?"). And I like to think I have accomplished a lot of neat stuff in my life so far, but I get the underlying impression that none of it is as readily celebrated as marriage and starting a family. I don't blame my church family for this. After all, many people have experienced marriage and starting a family. It is a normal part of the life course and most people can relate to it and celebrate that joy. But we celebrate what we value, so the message that sometimes sends is: we value traditional marriage more than almost everything else.

Great pair of spinsters- the Baldwin sisters from the Waltons

Now, I don't want to say I think marriage and having children is a bad thing. Quite the opposite! It is normal and beautiful and good. I have had Pinterest boards based on weddings and my future household for ages. My favourite genre of literature and movies is "romantic love enduring despite hardship" (See: Captain Corelli's Mandolin, Sense and Sensibility, Life is Beautiful). Romantic love is good for us, I think, but also we cannot ignore what Jesus says about the cost of being a disciple: "If you want to be my disciple, you must, by comparison, hate everyone else—your father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters—yes, even your own life. Otherwise, you cannot be my disciple." (Luke 14:26). 

This week in my house group we studied a part of the Sermon on the Mount. It was the part where Jesus was talking about fasting, and also the whole "you cannot serve both God and money" thing, and also the "do not be anxious" part. It's in Matthew 6, and I encourage you to look it up. One of the conclusions we came to was to hold loosely to the things we have, and to hold tightly to Jesus and our relationship with him. "Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness." And the Luke 14:26 piece shows that the things we have to hold loosely to go beyond just possessions, but also include relationships. 

I want to encourage my fellow Christians to hold loosely to the ideal of traditional marriage and family. Not everyone is going to follow that life course and that's OK. In this age and culture we live in, there are so many options and opportunities for young women that don't include marriage, or maybe include marriage later in life. That doesn't mean every unmarried woman is a spinster. And I will be honest, I do long for marriage and family someday. But I am seeking first the kingdom of God (and that command isn't only for single people, by the way). I don't put conditions on God like "I will follow you if you will give me the desires of my heart." I trust God. I trust that God is giving me life that is more than I could imagine, that has a better story than even my favourite fairy tale, because my story is all wrapped up in God's story. I trust that in "seeking first the kingdom of God" (something I am still learning how to do), I will receive even more joy than on the happiest wedding day. I trust that God does not want me to be just a wife and a mother, in the same way that God doesn't want anybody to just be a wife and a mother-- he wants us to be part of his incredible plan of healing and restoring the world.

So, to the church: don't dream such small dreams of your single people! Marriage and family is great- but God's Kingdom is greater. After all,
"Then, after doing all those things,
    I will pour out my Spirit upon all people.
Your sons and daughters will prophesy.
    Your old men will dream dreams,
    and your young men will see visions. 
 In those days I will pour out my Spirit
    even on servants—men and women alike."
  Joel 2:28-29

And to all my single ladies: 
If you wrap all your hopes up in landing a significant other, you're gonna be disappointed in the same way Beyonce was disappointed by Jay-Z. Just ask Becca K.  But if you wrap your hopes up in Jesus, you will never be disappointed. 

The post-university transition

It started like this.

I was in my late adolescence and early adulthood, learning how to be an adult in the world. I was in university, a time of hope when I truly believed that there were great things ahead in life, and that I was meant to be part of something bigger. And I connected with a group of people and we all believed the same thing: the ‘something bigger’ was the Kingdom of God, and we were already a part of it, and there, on our university campus, we were to go about bringing the Kingdom of God. We were a bunch of midterm-wearied kids, our first time away from home, our first time learning how to be in community away from our parents, gently led by caring mentors. We had no idea what we were doing but we knew we loved Jesus, we were filled with the Holy Spirit, and we thought of ourselves as missionaries to our campus. We took the verse that says “outdo each other in love” and I think we really tried to do that, in our bumbling, novice way. We sang worship to Jesus in our living rooms and downtown on a Saturday night and even in the forest. We studied the Bible voraciously and in detail. We had a number of potlucks as we tried any way to introduce our friends to Jesus. Meanwhile we got to know Jesus better. We started praying for healing. We sacrificed a lot of our time and money for others. And we saw God provide for us in some amazing ways. It was hard, though, and we got a lot of stuff wrong, and missed a lot of stuff, and sometimes it was so overwhelming that I cried. We threw parties when our friends decided to follow Jesus. 

It was a time of tremendous personal and spiritual growth. Then, I graduated. I left. Others left, too. We had to think about jobs and grad school and moving on with our lives. I was sure that wherever we went, God was going to use us. God was going to do big things through us, and we were going to change the world. 

But then, I found, it was a lot harder to have that sort of enthusiasm, passion, and vision in a different environment. I lived in a few different cities: elsewhere in Canada, in my hometown, in Kenya, and now, here in Halifax. And I found warm communities that looked and felt a lot different than my university community. 

These past few weeks I have been taking a course on missions, and we watched a video of a person talking about how spiritual revivals had started in the past through concerted, united prayer. And I recalled how I had been so passionate for that. I remembered being certain that Jesus was at work and that I was a part of it, and that together we were all part of it. I realized I was no longer so certain. I still love Jesus—in fact I feel like the more I think about Jesus, the more I love him—but I had lost the hope and the love for my city and my community. My expectations have been too low these past few years. And I still am grappling with questions about community: Should all Christian communities have the same sort of intensity as our university fellowship? What does a community hoping together look like OUTSIDE the context of a university?

Lately I have been yearning for those days again. I miss everything. I miss living within a fifteen-minute walk of all my best friends. I miss living room worship. I miss coffee dates with mentors. I am writing this because I know I can’t be the only one. I know the transition between the intensity of university community and moving beyond that is hard. I am still figuring it out. How have you navigated that transition?