Worth Waiting For

In a prayer journal far far away, buried beneath dozens of journals filled with really serious questions like "why don't I have a boyfriend?" and "will anyone ever love me like Edward loves Bella?" there is a list. *Disclaimer: I got really into Twilight for a while.

I started this "list" in my prayer journal when I got to college in 2009. The list was a result of years of self-pitying questions and a desire to take charge of my standards and transform them into a strength. I started praying for my future husband in 2007 on Wednesday mornings. I remember this because I would go to the 6:30 a.m. Mass on Wednesdays and then I'd go sit in the second row pew at St. Jude and read 1 Cor. 13 (#socliche) and then just pray for my future husband...mostly that he existed.

Having never dated anyone ever, I decided to attribute my perpetual singlehood to the "standards" that I had developed over the years of learning what/who I do/don't like. What I didn't know is that being single doesn't mean you're picky or that you have outlandish standards or that something is wrong with you. Being single might mean you aren't ready for your future partner. It might mean your future partner isn't ready for you. In my case, being single meant that it wasn't time for me to meet Ryan. Even after we met, it wasn't time for my singlehood to end.

Being bitter can be fun for a little bit; it's fun to host an Anti-Valentine's Day Party and complain about things #BeenThereDoneThat. After a while, being bitter is really ugly. When I decided to embrace my singleness as a gift and a strength, I got to know myself better and concentrate on who I wanted to be. The better I understood who I was, the better I got to be at knowing what I wanted my future to look like. I changed my major to social work, I spent more time concentrating on my spiritual needs, and I developed some wonderful friendships.

So I guess what I'm trying to say is that for me, knowing what I hoped for but knowing I didn't need it now was empowering. When I could say I know who I am, I know who I want to be, and I know what my values are, I became less bitter and more hopeful. I knew that God planted the desire for companionship in my heart because of my vocation to marriage and I knew that he would provide if I would allow him to use my singlehood to become the person my future spouse would want me to be.

Scattered throughout dozens of journals and embarrassing Xanga entries are pleas and wishes for a boyfriend and a savior. I think that it was when I realized a boyfriend and a savior wouldn't be the same person that I was able to find peace in my singlehood and understand that "single" does not mean "lonely".

Making a "list" was good for me. It was a tool that encouraged me to be hopeful and reminded me of God's faithfulness. I'd say it worked out pretty well. I'm marrying a Catholic man who makes great "that's what she said" jokes in 23 days. I mean, he can't grow a Mumford and Sons beard, he did have a girlfriend for 5 days in 2007, and I'm pretty sure he hates tennis, but I wouldn't change a single thing. It was all worth waiting for and all worth praying for.

But really, list or no list - it really doesn't matter at all. We all have "lists" but most of the time they are just floating around in our heads. The fact that mine is on paper is the only thing difference between me and the next girl. The biggest lesson I learned from writing it all out way back when is that I can look at this page and see that I always knew I wanted to be with my Ryan... and he was always my plan.