Grace Day #27: The Waiting Room
“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” — Psalm 27:13-14 (NIV)
The Journey
I have a closet full of dresses that I’ve only worn once. Pastel pink, lavender, navy blue. The uniform of the Perpetual Bridesmaid.
Last Saturday was wedding number eight. I stood at the altar, holding a bouquet of hydrangeas, watching my college roommate pledge her eternal love to a man she met six months ago. I smiled until my cheeks hurt. I clapped. I toasted.
But later, at the reception, the DJ called for the “Single Ladies” to come to the floor for the bouquet toss. The room seemed to tilt. I felt the collective pity of the aunts and grandmothers burning into my back. Poor Sarah. Thirty-four and still alone. Such a pretty girl, too. Maybe she’s too picky.
I hid in the bathroom for twenty minutes, staring at myself in the mirror.
My life felt like a waiting room. You know the feeling—when you’re at the doctor’s office, flipping through old magazines, checking the clock, just killing time until your name is called.
For a decade, I had been living on “pause.” I wanted to buy a house, but I told myself, Wait until you get married. What if he lives in a different city? I wanted to travel to Italy, but I told myself, Wait. That’s a romantic trip. Go when you have a husband. I even bought the cheap Ikea furniture for my apartment because, Why invest in good stuff now? We’ll register for the real china later.
I was treating my current life as a dress rehearsal for a play that hadn’t been cast yet. I was saving my joy, my money, and my dreams for a hypothetical “us,” leaving the actual “me” to live in a suspended state of animation.
I walked out of the bathroom and went to the patio to get some air. I found my friend’s grandmother, Nana Rose, sitting on a bench with a piece of cake. Nana Rose was a widow, but she was the most vibrant woman I knew. She traveled, she painted, she laughed loud.
“Hiding from the bouquet?” she asked, her eyes twinkling.
“I hate that tradition,” I admitted, sitting down. “It makes me feel like a leftover.”
Nana Rose put down her fork. “Sarah, honey, look at me. I was married for forty years. I loved my husband dearly. But do you know what I learned when he died? I learned that he was a wonderful companion, but he was not my life. I am my life. And God is my life.”
She gestured to the party inside. “Marriage is a blessing, yes. But it is not the finish line. If you are waiting for a man to give you permission to live, you are wasting the breath God gave you today. You are not a half-person, Sarah. You are a whole daughter of the King. Act like it.”
Permission to live.
The words struck a chord. I realized I had been acting like my singleness was a disease to be cured rather than a season to be stewarded. I was so focused on what I lacked that I was missing what I had: freedom. I had disposable income. I had time. I had the ability to go anywhere and serve anyone without asking for a consensus.
I went home that night and did something radical. I didn’t sign up for a new dating app.
I opened my laptop and booked a ticket to Florence, Italy. Just one ticket.
Then, I went online and started looking at real estate listings. Not for “us,” but for me.
Two months later, I sat in a café in Florence, eating gelato and watching the sunset over the Arno River. I was alone, but I wasn’t lonely. I felt a profound sense of presence. I realized that God’s goodness wasn’t reserved for the “land of the married”; it was right here, in the land of the living.
I may get married someday. I may not. But I am done waiting in the lobby. I have walked through the door of my own life, and I am finding that the room is beautiful, full, and enough.
Heart of the Matter
In many Christian circles, marriage is treated as the ultimate graduation, implying that until you have a ring, you are still in school. This is a lie. The Apostle Paul actually calls singleness a “gift” because it allows for undistracted devotion to the Lord (1 Corinthians 7).
Sarah’s struggle wasn’t just about loneliness; it was about identity. She believed she was incomplete. But in Christ, you are already complete (Colossians 2:10). A spouse complements your life; they do not complete it. Only God can fill the God-shaped vacuum in your soul.
If you are waiting for a partner, do not wait passively. Do not put your dreams, your ministry, or your joy on hold. Live fully now. Buy the good china. Take the trip. Serve the Kingdom. A life lived fully for God is never a “Plan B.”
Faith in Action
This week, treat yourself with the dignity you are waiting for a partner to give you.
The Challenge: Take yourself on a date.
- Go to a nice restaurant, a museum, or a park.
- Do not bring a book to hide behind. Do not scroll on your phone to look busy.
- Sit in the moment. Order the dessert.
- Say to God: “Thank You for this moment. Thank You for my own company. I am enough because You are with me.”
Prayer for the Day
Lord, You are my Portion and my Cup. I confess that I have treated my life like a waiting room. I have looked to a relationship to validate my worth. Forgive me for ignoring the blessings of today while squinting at the horizon of tomorrow. Help me to be fully present. Fill my loneliness with Your presence. Let me run my race with joy, whether I run it alone or with a partner. I trust You with my heart. Amen.
Grace Note
“Loneliness is not the absence of affection, but the absence of direction.” — Elisabeth Elliot