On the death of the single life

Guys, I'm getting married next week. Still hard to believe. There were days, sometimes weeks, during the last decade when I was sure I would never say that. There were also days, sometimes weeks, when I just knew it was going to happen. Just not when it would happen. God has a funny way of working like that. I'm hoping to also get to write about all the touchy-feelies as I get ready to embark on this great adventure, but this is what came out instead.

First, back to those days I was sure I would die single. I had all sorts of people give me all sorts of opinions and advice during my single years, and most of it, frankly, was counterproductive to the assurance I know they were trying to offer. Trust me, I know I can't get married if I don't first meet people. You think I didn't lament my introversion nearly every day in college and medical school? Telling me to just "get out there" didn't help. Inviting me to join a football team and driving with me to the games? That's helpful. Even worse than "get out there" is the ubiquitous "You'll find someone when you least expect it" or "God has someone out there for you." While the latter might be true (He did, and His timing was perfect), neither of those did much for my self-esteem when I was watching many of my friends walk down the aisle and start popping out babies, living their vocations full-throttle.

Asking me why I wasn't dating anyone was my least favorite reaction. "You know, because I am waiting for Prince Charming to come along and sweep me off my feet on his white horse." "Oh, I just like being alone. In fact, I have turned down three good offers this week for dates." What do they think I'm going to say? The better response, by far, is just to listen and encourage. Just a few weeks before meeting A, I was lamenting my lack of success with online dating, and a friend, instead of telling me my standards were just too high (I love that one too), listened, and then said, "Well, if your biggest hang-up is that they're not Catholic, maybe you should join Catholic Match. You can't be less successful than you are now." While I didn't meet A on Catholic Match, hearing that, and joining a *gasp* pay-for-service dating site, helped me to put enough energy into the whole process that I think it did help me find the one

Alright, enough negative rant. The truth is, there are plenty of things that my friends did to help me through those years of wondering about my vocation. Probably most importantly, they invited me to be part of their lives. Hanging out with my single friends helped me to enjoy the freedom of my state in life. But being with my married friends probably helped prepare me more. I got a first-hand look into the mini-van, diaper-changing, bath-time chaos before it will become my reality. We talked about the struggles of marriage and parenthood, which let me see what vocation was all about, and reminded me not to wait for the "fairy tale" because it's not real. And whether single or married, my best friends helped me to become the best version of myself so that I would be ready to give myself in marriage. They never framed it that way, but that's how it happened. I'm so incredibly grateful for those friends, hoping that my getting married next week will only enrich our lives, though I know things will change.

And ultimately, I'm grateful for the waiting. I'm grateful that I was able to learn to love myself before I learned to love someone else. I'm grateful that I didn't settle. I'm grateful that I had some amazing adventures while I was still free to do so without worrying about family life. I'm grateful for being able to work on my faith, my career, and myself, so that I am not relying on A to fill any voids, because that's not his job.

I'm hoping that the next time I'm wondering and waiting, I can remember that God has a perfect track record, and that just because people tend to stick their feet in their mouths when they want to help doesn't mean what they're trying to say isn't true. And I hope I can be the sort of friend that I had to those who are still waiting.

The power and the glory

The Olympics have ended, leaving a hole in my daytime TV watching and constant monitoring of the medal count. Somehow I made it through the entire two weeks without blogging about how much I love the Olympics. Probably because I was too busy watching to sit down and write. I love that for a brief period of time, Trump and Hillary aren't dominating the news cycle. I love that athletes who have trained for four years (or their whole lives) in obscurity get their fifteen minutes of fame. I love that patriotism outshines politics. I love the feats of pure athleticism, the dominance, the strength, the speed, the grace, the celebrations. And this year particularly, I loved how many of the athletes gave glory to God in their own unassuming ways. And the media just ate it up.


Consider Abbey D'Agostino, the American runner who wound up injured after colliding with New Zealander Nikki Hamblin. D'Agostino went to her fellow competitor and helped her up after the crash. “Although my actions were instinctual at that moment, the only way I can and have rationalized it is that God prepared my heart to respond that way,” D’Agostino said. “This whole time here, he’s made clear to me that my experience in Rio was going to be about more than my race performance — and as soon as Nikki got up, I knew that was it.”


Or that Katie Ledecky and Simone Biles, easily the biggest female stars of these Olympics, both proudly spoke of their Catholic faith, not apologizing for it or making a big show of doing the sign of the cross seventeen times, but very simply acknowledging that their lives are about more than pursuing gold. Divers Steele Johnson and David Boudia also made it clear that their identities were in Christ, not solely as Olympians. And of course, the greatest Olympian of all time, Michael Phelps, came back from DUIs, addiction, and depression to once again stand atop the podium. He credits "The Purpose Driven Life" for giving him perspective, and said that he has the rest of his life ahead of him to look forward to. And of course, Kerri Walsh-Jennings admitting that she was "born to have babies and play volleyball." How delightfully counter-cultural!


What a welcome change from the selfish egoism that dominates much of our world, the shenanigans of the pro athletes who jump from one scandal to the next, the constant war-torn strife in much of the developing world, the terrorist attacks, the suffering. With all eyes on them, these athletes remind us that there is more to this life. And among other things, that is why I love the Olympics.

God's plan

We’ve all heard the story of the man stuck in the flood who prays for deliverance. He lets two rescue boats and a rescue helicopter pass by because “God will save me.” He succumbs to the flood and asks God at the gates why he wasn’t rescued. “I sent you a rescue three times!”

It’s tempting, to pray for something and try to intuit how God will answer, and it’s tempting to try to do as much for ourselves as we can. Another familiar saying: “Pray as though everything depends on God. Work as though everything depends on you.” But sometimes I feel like I’m working myself into a hole, at the expense of the first part of that saying. 

For me, when faced with the anxiety of a dilemma requiring both prayer and work, I tend to do everything in my power to affect the outcome, and then kind of throw it up into God’s hands and say, “Okay, your turn.” Not only do I think that’s probably the wrong order in which to do things, but it separates God’s work from our work. 

Instead, what if we pray without ceasing and also continue to labor without complaining, letting God work His will through us, in spite of us. What if every day we walk with confidence knowing the Good Shepherd will not let us go astray, and we ask only to be able to share His love and do His will, not get all the answers or see the whole path clearly. That’s what I want—to see the map. I want to know where I’m going and every step along the way, plus how long it’s going to take. God doesn’t work that way, because, as a great man just told me, “God is smart. We are not.” 

If I saw the path, I’m sure I would argue about the best route, the timing, the journey, even the destination. But if I just start walking, I get to experience God’s love every day. That is more than enough.