The past seven months of my life have been filled with
continual change and constant adjustment. Moving states, making new friends,
changing schools, digging into my major, having my heart broken, building a
church community, all of it. It’s been one giant struggle that’s sparked a lot
of joy but also an immense amount of pain. I’ve blogged about this topic
before, but lately my maternal aches of longing and loneliness have grown even
more intense since this semester began. Instead of being excited for the
future, I am often nervous and worried that my chances at happiness are
completely passing me by. I’ve tried so hard to run away from it, to find joy
again and to stop feeling so lost. But I never succeed. Instead, I remain
lonely, wanting and confused.
I’ve never been one to feel void of my own identity. I’ve
typically felt rather secure in who I am, comfortable with both the negatives
and positives of my character. Of course we all have things we wish to change
about ourselves, but it’s never really been a major battle for me.
Ever since January, I’ve felt defenseless. I haven’t
prepared myself for this battle or the solitude that accompanies it. For
feeling so lost and unequipped…for the ridicule, the judgment and the
insecurity.
At home in North Richland Hills, my friends knew me. And I
mean really knew me. I’ve had the
same basic support system since seventh grade. Friends who have watched me grow
into a much kinder woman, a woman of leadership and faith and confidence. My
closest friends understood my affectionate side and my sassy side. They knew
how much I emphasized touch and hugs and admiration, and they knew how to deal
with my lack of patience and controlling tendencies. Those friends were and
will forever be my home. The place I know that I belong.
But since moving to Missouri, it’s been hard to find that
home again. It’s hard to explain to people how much family means to me, how
much I want to be a mother, how much I do believe in true and everlasting love
despite the experiences life has plagued me with over the years. It’s hard to
be judged and misunderstood and outspoken. It’s been a constant battle, both
inwardly and outwardly, since moving here, but it’s intensified in the past few
weeks. I’ve struggled to overcome the trial and to hurry up past this point and
get over it. To be comfortable again with who I am and get over my obsession
with marriage and motherhood. But I never questioned why…why do I want to get over it? Why is it not okay
to feel this way? Why is it not socially acceptable to have this mindset? Why
is it such a foreign idea?
Today, my sweet friend Marisa shared a blog with me from a
fellow Christian who understands my confliction. He described that loneliness
is a way of God manifesting himself and allowing His voice to be heard in our
lives. The blogger emphasized how desires like this have to be brought to the
Lord and spent time on – that it’s okay to “rest in that longing…that solitude,
that stillness, that stretch. Allow God to transform your ache. Don’t run from
it – own it.”
I sat in awe as I read about a man who finally gave me the
answer I needed. It’s not okay to feel this way because society does not
understand it. Society is of this world – materialistic, confused and fallen.
Marriage is no longer sacred, families are torn apart every day, and motherhood
is a chapter of life that comes earlier and earlier to teens each year.
But in God’s eyes, this struggle is perfectly acceptable.
This trial is calculated, specific and indispensable. The aches are a great
opportunity for God to work in my life and build and build and build me into
the woman, wife and mother He needs me to be. For my husband, my children and
my family.
I have to stop rushing. I have to stop running from Him,
running from myself, and running from the pain. It hurts sometimes, and it’s
lonely and critical and hard nearly every day. But it’s purposeful. I know for
a fact that I will treasure my husband so much more if I’ve gone through such an
intense trial to get to him.
Society can tell me what it wants to. My peers can laugh at
my aspirations, not understand my outlook, or completely disagree with my
priorities. But they’re there for a reason, and they aren’t going anywhere. God
has planted this desire into my heart at such a young age in order to transform
me into a Proverbs 31 woman of courage, faith and affection.
Today I learned that it’s okay to be lonely. It’s okay to be
silent and listening. It’s okay to be where I am and to not really know where
life is going. And it is 100% without a doubt okay to want to share my life
with a family in a future that God creates.
