Many years ago—46 years ago this week, to be exact—I married the man I thought was going to be the love of my life. For a variety of reasons it didn’t work out that way and now he is gone. Not just gone in terms of him leaving the marriage, but he has been dead for a long time.
So recently the wonders of long-term marriage and the sadness of my lack of it have been weighing heavy on my heart. Today at church it seemed like every couple there was holding hands. There were clusters of families sitting together. And I, the solo old lady of the group, was sitting by myself in the corner.
I’ve gone through this before—the image of myself achingly alone in a sea of loving couples. I know it’s a warped image of reality, but every single person I know goes through it from time to time. This morning the image stung and I started feeling sorry for myself. Normally the feeling would have stayed with me for days and I might have cried all the way home from church. But today was different. We were singing songs of praise to God and I just felt Him with me and I realized that my aloneness is not an accident. Where life has taken me is God’s design. He has me exactly where He wants me, for some reason that I may not completely understand. I don’t understand His plan but I trust it. It’s okay that it’s not what I expected my life to be. It’s still grace and I thank Him for being there.