I had a conversation with a friend (you know who you are) a few weeks ago. We were discussing boy (for what other topic could two young women ever deal with?) and she asked if I had prayed for a husband. If I wanted one, I should be praying for one. I used to pray for my husband a lot. Not so much that God would bring me one, but I prayed with the assumption that He would. So my prayers were for this man, whoever he was, that his day would be blessed, that his relationships would be healthy, that his heart would be protected and guarded. I prayed for him quite often. But a few years ago I stopped. I think my heart got too wrapped up in various situations and praying for him as some future unknown man became complicated. So last week I decided to try it. I was going to pray that God would bring me a husband. I was lying in bed, and I began to pray. And then I stopped. Midprayer. I couldn't finish the prayer. I couldn't bring myself to pray for a husband. Maybe I've become cynical, maybe I've become comfortable alone, or maybe I'm just confused. I think I want to be married someday. I think if I met the guy, I would want it. But for now, the idea of meeting someone, of falling in love, of wanting to spend my life with someone is unfathomable. Where have all the coyboys gone?
I will say this: I finished that night with a prayer that no matter my relationship status, the Lord would make my heart an unselfish one, a generous one, a serving one. I fear growing too accustomed to serving myself and I know that the longer I live alone and the longer I am in charge of my life, the more I get in the habit of putting myself first. That is so not what I desire. I desire to be vulnerable, open, serving, feminine. And so I prayed for the chance to love, to put someone else before myself, to be uncomfortable for the sake of others' comfort. May the Lord be glorified in my singleness and some day, should He desire, my marriage.