Dear Future Husband…

I used to pray for you. I would ask God to protect you, guide you to me and confirm that you were right where you were supposed to be. I prayed for your healing, your faith to be strengthened and for you to be the true kingdom man God made you to be. I would pray daily. I would talk about my prayer. I shared it with my single friends so they could create their own. I wanted all of them to hold on to hope that their husbands were out there and needed to be covered. 

After starting my prayer I started receiving words of confirmation from others. Strangers included. They would either tell me that I would be married soon. That I should not look because God was bringing him to me. He was going to be the one that would no longer hurt me but take care of me. This was the marriage that would push God’s kingdom forward. I cherished each message in my heart. This seemed to align with God’s plan. I found scripture to hold on to. I was then given scripture that felt delivered from God. It encouraged me. Uplifted me. Warmed me to my soul. 

Then the wait continued. It was okay because I had my prayer and my promises. Each promise had been months apart. One even boldly said before the year was over! Not prompted by me at all. So, of course, the countdown began. The days went by. The months went by. Until all of a sudden the end of the year was only a few days away and the dread started to sink in.

What if it was not happening? What if it was a lie? What if they were all lies? What if I was wrong about everything? Did I really confuse the word ‘your husband is coming’? Before I knew it the sadness set. Why were my hopes set up to only be knocked down? Had God changed His mind? Had I done something wrong? Maybe I made an idol of the whole thing and was no longer ready. In response to this last thought I went to my prayer list and deleted my prayer. There was too much pressure. Pressure for it to happen. Deleting it surprisingly felt like a huge relief. I no longer had a missing deadline hanging over my head. Reminding me that I prayed and was fooled. I was no longer the fool if I didn’t think about it.

I began to push the thought from my mind because stage three kicked in. Pain. It hurt that I was not worthy of a husband. It hurt that a game was played with my heart and mind. Had I talked too much and for that, it was snatched from me? Sadly I settled on one more scary thought. I probably didn’t deserve it anyway. The word 'husband' was banished from my mind. For the months that followed I no longer cared. At least I tried not to care. By six months, I was convinced I was good. I didn’t care if I got married or not. I had kids to raise, a ministry to begin. A full time job to go to. Healing and realigning with God was happening. 

Yes, everyday I still came to my Heavenly Father. I had given Him my heart fully and completely so I had to trust He was protecting it and taking care of it. Some people would have been mad at God and just walked away for such a cruel game. But I know God. I had spent at least 15 minutes a day with him since I was a teenager in our quiet times together. If I didn’t get mad at Him after being bullied, a war in my country, becoming a refugee, being widowed suddenly and multiple miscarriages, why would this do it? Through each tragedy, disappointment, sadness and loss I felt God. I felt Him comfort me, strengthen me, guide me and uplift me. I was never alone in my terrifying moments. I never cried alone. I felt an angelic hug the minute the words ‘he’s dead’ left the police officer’s mouth. A God like that doesn’t mess with you for fun. He doesn’t play games. He is not trying to hurt us. 

So even though my prayers were not answered I trusted His plan. I still do. It is not easy, but it’s necessary. What’s my other choice, getting depressed, lost, and hopeless? Trusting Him gives me peace. Granted there are times I backslide and ask why and tears well up, but once I have vented to Him and poured my heart out completely as I would to my earthly parent, I am able to get up and move again with the peace he replaced my burden with. I do have to fight the thoughts that mock my loneliness, because the devil and our flesh do stay busy. 

One day maybe you will come, maybe you won’t. I know I need to be okay with that. I am not in charge of my story. The one who holds the pen has great plans for me! Amazing plans! For He knew me before I was even formed in my mother’s womb. He knew everything would come to pass. But it wasn’t all for some sad ending. It all will not be wasted. What God starts He finishes! So I can’t wait to see the ending!