It Takes Courage to Be Single, Too: At My Most Vulnerable

I always encourage listening to my audio (“Article voiceover” above the photo) while reading. As poet Maya Angelou said, “Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with the shades of deeper meaning.”

“It takes courage to be single” is not generally something we hear in the church—and I don’t mean just my church. I mean in general. Usually, we hear nothing in church about singleness at all. It’s the one group of people generally left out there to gather strands of strength on their own. But after hearing again how much courage it takes to be married and to raise a family, it’s time for me to speak. If no one else will do it, I will. I’ll take the criticism, the accusations of whining and complaining. I’ll even take being ignored by those who either don’t get it or don’t care. But maybe this will help just one person who needs to hear it. I know you’re out there. I’ve seen you. I’ve heard you. I have related with you. So, yes, it takes courage to be single, especially as a Christian. It takes courage to even write this, which I hesitate to do because 1) It leaves me vulnerable, and I don’t do that well, except with a few people; I’m the one expected to handle other people’s vulnerabilities and 2) Some may be offended, though my goal is not to hurt anyone’s feelings; my goal is to express mine and to lay out the truth that hardly ever gets told. So I will.

Today, I came home and typed an inquiry into Google, of all places. 🙄 You’ll see it in the first screenshot, along with the Internet’s answer in multiple screenshots:

Most of this is one hundred percent spot-on—the invisibility, the idea that it somehow takes more spirituality to live married and singles may not have graduated to being a courageous adult entrusted with what really matters in life.

It would take too much time to express my journey on this road—the battles, the victories, the questions, the anger. There’s so much to say about something most don’t want to hear about—and it’s not just about hooking up with a mate. It’s about the challenge of living without a mate, even if you’re not desperate for one.

I have no issue with constant examples of married life and family that we hear from Christians and the church. I’m a firm believer that marriage is important in our society. I pray for marriages—for God to bless these couples in every way, for marriages to be strong, and if they have children, I pray for them also. I do so because I value them. I don’t do so because I think they are the epitome of Christianity or because they are more courageous than anyone else. I pray for them because I care about them and about the institution.

But I hardly ever hear people pray for singleness. I said it that way on purpose. I didn’t just say singles, individuals. Many people pray for individuals. I said pray concerning singleness. That’s a whole different ball game. In the same way that I don’t just pray for Jody or Jane or Jack but for their state as a married couple because that’s recognizing a whole different dynamic. What about singleness? What about those struggles in life? Are we as the body of Christ lifting that up to God? If it’s not being done in our presence, it’s likely not being done. If you can look at them and not talk to God about them, chances are you’re not talking to God about them when you’re not looking at them. And, no, I’m not just talking about finding a mate. There’s that, but there’s so much more than that.

I will continue to pray for marriages, and I don’t disagree that it takes courage to build a life with someone else. But, again, it takes courage to be single, too, and I dare say more courage. I’m not less courageous because God didn’t give me a husband. We say things that have married people beating their chests and singles feeling they don’t measure up. And it’s so easy to say that it’s just their problem they feel this way without ever taking a close look and admitting, “Maybe things need to be handled differently.”

So as a single woman, let me tell you in case you didn’t know. If courage is “strength of heart,” I can tell you what it looks like. It takes courage to pursue dreams alone. It takes courage to leave your career after nearly 20 years and embark on something different—alone. No one is taking that leap with you. It takes courage as a single to leave the state in which you were born and raised, saying goodbye to the few family members you have. It takes courage to go up before “big names” in search of a new job. It takes courage to buy a house alone, with one income and no clue how to fix anything. It takes courage to hear a sound at night, and the only one who can go check on it is you, as a woman. It take courage to build a business—give up a steady paycheck and build your own business.

Make no mistake about it, it takes courage to be single. It takes courage to have to do a roadtrip alone, find a hotel along the way and stop for the night, not even wanting to tell the front desk clerk that you’re traveling alone when you’re asked, “How many are staying?” It takes a certain courage to go out and eat alone.

It takes courage to try to pursue your calling and have to navigate airports and venues and highways alone.

It takes courage to have “promises” about marriage that have yet to materialize and to “war with those prophecies,” as we’re taught to do, only to see the clock tick and the calendar turn—decade after decade. It takes courage to try to figure out when it’s time to let it go, yet hang on at the same time. The eternal enigma. It takes courage to trust God again after it’s been shaky but you made it through and have lived for God wholeheartedly, immersing yourself in His purpose and saying, “God, I give it to You.” It takes courage to help others walk through the pain and disappointment you’ve been through and encourage them—seeing and rejoicing that God didn’t waste your pain—being able to tell them that your story doesn’t have to be theirs—that maybe He’ll give them what He hasn’t given you.

It takes courage after walking in victory to have those dreams grab you again out of the blue, and so you believe it’s God so much that you do what is so difficult for you to do—you sit down with people you trust and share your heart and ask for prayer concerning it…and they never mention it again—after you poured it all out. It takes courage—strength of heart—to pray for people about marriage for them not because they were your family members or best friends, but simply because you knew they wanted that in their lives. So you interceded more days than you can count, and they never even knew; you just prayed. Then you watch God answer your prayers not for you, but for them—and they thought so little of you that when the time came, you weren’t even considered for an invitation, but you kept displaying that strength of heart. You watch young and old get engaged and married, have children, some get married again, build a community. And you just remain faithful.

I learned today that a study showed that successful civilizations are damaged by two things: premarital sex and infidelity in marriage. Yet how many times do you hear people talk about the challenge it is to remain pure in singleness—not just your body, but your mind? It takes courage in a hypersexualized culture to walk in physical and mental purity, yet we don’t even think to say, “It takes courage to live single. We see you. We’re praying for you.” It’s only, “It takes courage to be married and raise a family.” It does, but man, some of us are out here doing this thing without someone else walking alongside us.

It takes courage to hear from political parties who demonize single people, women especially, for not being married or having children, as if they even know their story. And speaking of story, it takes courage to hear people talk about seasons when you realize that some things simply are not seasons; they’re stories. They’re the way it is. Yet no one talks about that—how to handle the thing that was thought to be a season but has turned into part of your life story.

Through ups and downs, it takes courage to dream again—to know if you’re even supposed to dream again, to try to figure it all out while no one says a word.

It takes courage to sit there and hear about the “young people” who will get married and build a life or do whatever, and need courage in that. And you see yourself, certainly not young, and knowing that this is not a “young” thing, and the older you get, the more courage you need to do this life alone.

I could say so much more, but I’ve said enough, and I’ve certainly been vulnerable enough. No doubt, some will think I’m being one of those grumbling saints, but sometimes, truth stings and heals at the same time. I know some couldn’t care less about anything I said, but I care, and I’m worth speaking for—and I also know there are some who do understand, and I pray you feel seen and honored—right where you are. You are courageous. I remember the time in my early thirties when I said to the Lord with deep pain in my heart, “God, you don’t trust me to be married?” and I felt like He spoke to me and said, “I trust you to be single.” I didn’t see that as a forever thing, especially in light of all of prophecies of marriages I had. But here we are, so I don’t know, and that is what really takes courage—the not knowing. I can deal with the knowing, but the not knowing is the hard part—and I am trying to figure out—again—how to let go and hold on at the same time. 🤔

Courage.

And here’s the rawest, most vulnerable part of all I just wrote: I found out today it takes courage just to open my mouth and sing the words, “He has good plans for me.” For me. But I did it.