A note: I wrote this last summer and I hesitate to post it here, but I feel I need to. I hope it gives the reader a glimpse into where I’ve come from and how far I’ve come. I still grieve. I still long, but God has taken my obedience and created renewed hope. Thanks again for reading! 

I firmly believe God created me as I am. I believe He has had His guiding hand on me all the way. I believe my journey – all the twists and turns – has been for a reason.

Despite all this, I grieve.

I grieve the mundane things I never had a chance to experience.

Being chosen.

Falling in love when young. Proposal. Wedding  Building a life with someone.

A positive pregnancy test. Being pregnant. Holding my own child in infancy.  First step. First words. First everything.

But, I’m no longer jealous of those who those who did get this. Through much time and even more prayer I’ve let go of bitterness.

Yet, I grieve. Sometimes that grief seems unbearable.

As I enter my late 40’s,  I miss what I’ve never had. I get sad that I have to do life alone. Despite the community I have around me, I still do most thing solo.

“Smug marrieds,” as Bridget Jones called them, don’t get it. They complain about spouses and children, never realizing their privilege.

I don’t know the feeling of having someone have my back. Even if I’m wrong, supporting me anyway.

I’ve always been the third wheel. Relegated to the back seat. Sleeping in a house alone. Never with. Always one.

And the lack of touch. The pain of not being touched. The gentle hand on the small of your back. A hand reaching out for yours. The hug when you’re grumpy. It’s not about sex (yet that’s there, too), more about scarcity. Taken for granted when you have it.

In this silent lonely place, I grieve.  I grieve because I fear I am in this situation because I am not enough. Or I am too much. I grieve that I don’t quite fit in.

I fear hope. I’m terrified of it. So often disappointed. So often rejected. Uncertain whether I can risk hoping again. I grieve this lack of courage. Too cowardly to move forward and try again. And again.

I grieve.



I ask for courage to move forward. To risk. To have hope.

God, I ask to be found. To let go of my efforts and just be.

And in the meantime – God make me obedient. Make me courageous. Make me humble.

Heal my brokenness.

So be it, God. So be it.





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