I Smell a Change in the Wind... or on My Screen...

About, oh, maybe a year ago {?} I started writing a "book" on singleness.  Really it started as a pamphlet, written more as an extended journal entry and rant than anything else.  I was in the middle of dealing with some pretty strong emotions: anger, bitterness, sadness, disappointment, insufficiency, hurt, pride.  Most of my friends were in serious relationships, my roommate was dating seriously (which led to engagement), and I... well, I was still alone, unpursued, unattached.  While I'd never experienced anything more than one DTR (define-the-relationship, for those of you out of the Moody-speak loop) in my entire high school and college experience, the idea of being the "last one" was new for me; I was working through it with typing fingers and whirling mind gears.

There were nights of tears.  There were pleading prayers.  There was depression.  There was selfishness.  And now, as I change directions with my "book," it is fascinating to look back and see how my writing process mirrored my own process and progress.  My writing started as something for me, something to make me feel better and a way for me to work through my hurt.  While I thought I was focusing on the right things: moving forward, enjoying singleness, etc, what I find now is simply that I was altogether too me-focused.

Every month or two I'd pick up the "book" again... subtracting something that just wasn't right, adding something I'd learned in the meantime.  And when I look at the words before me now, on a bleach-white, bare, electronic page, I must apply the newest, most important lesson (nay, hurdle) I've learned in my life as a single woman.  What would be the point of my writing another book on singleness to sit on the nightstand of a single woman, for her to read before she goes to bed alone?  She'd be armed with more superficial artillery against her depression-- that "I'm not alone" feeling soothes for a time.  But with what would she really be left, when more of her girlfriends get married, and she truly is the last one?

With my own growth and struggles and victories and triumphs, I have found that it's just not enough to read the words of someone else; it is not enough to try to help myself.  No, there is one source that is sufficient for me and for other women to live and love their life of singleness: that is God's Word.  And so, my "book" has taken a new direction.  From here on out, I'll be using my musings and anecdotes only to introduce the meat that has satisfied me and truly changed my perspective-- I'm writing a devotional.  I don't want it to be one of those light, fluffy, cheesy devotionals that a single woman will pick up, read for three minutes with her breakfast and forget about by the time she hits traffic.  I want it to be a meaty, intense, truth-packed collection of real-life issues and lessons backed not by experience or feelings but the Word of God.

The only way to change perspective, the only way to find joy and contentment, is through His Word... so why would I steer women from that and towards my musings alone?  I can't in good conscience.  So there it is.  The winding road of my journey has changed me, and I do want to communicate that with other women.  But very simply, I didn't change myself.  God's Word changed me.  It is my true prayer and hope that women with similar struggles will be changed as well.