This personal tale is meant to instill audacious hope in those of you longing for a partner.
Over the years in my most pleading prayers, I’d ask for a partner. But, careful not to be greedy or ungrateful, these prayers were modest and meek.
“If I could just meet a *decent* guy. He doesn’t have to be anything *special*. Just decent to me and decent to my son. “
The “just decent” prospects were presented, along with some masquerading as decent. They were never It.
I kept praying.
Perhaps I’d adjust the prayers a bit.
“He he could just be *mostly* decent- not perfect. I have a very high tolerance for bullshit, Lord. I can accept a lot in an imperfect mate.”
Of course I met several mostly-decent and decidedly imperfect matches, who were so clearly not It.
I’d adjust my prayers further, striking out the non-essential components, editing with the red pen of my mind, revising until it was a presentable prayer, and reasonable.
“God, if I can’t have a partner, please let my heart feel peace instead of longing, so that I can stop hoping and praying for a love I can’t have.”
As much as I could manage on my own, my heart never felt *peace.* People told me earnestly that if I gave up on the idea of wanting a mate, if I let go of that desire, I’d be more likely to meet the right one. “It’ll happen when you least expect it.”
But I just could never give up on that hope, and I certainly could not tame that yearning. Not because I can’t function autonomously- some have even described me as “fiercely independent” and “thoroughly capable”- but because I wanted LOVE.
Love is not about codependence.
Desiring connection does not indicate frailty.
What’s peculiar to me now is how I edited my prayers all those years- never asking for MORE, but instead asking for less… an emotional orphan begging for scraps.
Because what I *really* wanted seemed too bold a request with its far-fetched wishes and inarticulable longings.
Should I somehow have managed to collect all my wildest dreams and cobble them into a picture of my longed-for love, how could I then offer this picture up in prayer as my humble request without offending God with the specificity of this desire?
So I asked for less.
And, sadly, I got less. But when I got it, I’d realize quickly that it wasn’t enough for me, that I couldn’t even pretend to be content. I’d move right along, adjust my prayers, and try again.
I can’t tell you *how* it happened, this union. I suspect divine intervention or angelic interference.
What I *can* tell you is that I could never fathom, even in my most audacious requests or fantastical wishes, the extent of the beauty of this love.
How could I have, when there are parts of this man and our union that I didn’t even know I wanted? When these gifts surpass even my wildest dreams?
There is safety in this home, and harmony.
Conspicuously absent is the strategizing, jockeying and self-serving manipulation present in all my relationships prior.
This place of “we” and “us” is so natural to us all, it seems impossible to believe that our lives did not converge until I was 40 years old.
Do you believe in miracles?
I do. I always have, really, but never imagined I would experience one myself.
Now I know.
So for YOU, there. You who is hurting, yearning, longing-
Do not beg for scraps.
Stretch your prayers to include the full desires of your heart and soul.
Make the audacious ask.
And in the mean time, move on readily from anything that does not honor your worth, so that you can open the space for your dream come true.