One Singular Sensation

Every Little Step She Takes

I got a phone call today from an old friend. She sounded happy and wanted to meet for lunch this week. Monica is one of my oldest friends. We met in the sixth grade after we'd both transferred to our small private academy from large public schools. We forged an instant friendship in the foreign world of prepubescent hormones and rampant emotions. She was allowed to shave her legs before I, and she kissed a boy during recess before I and she was cool- at least in my eyes.

We've drifted in and out of each others life over the years, but she is forever floating somewhere in my orbit, and I, in hers.

I watched her marry the man of her every dream about two years ago. She was radiant, as always, and I spent the night smiling and dancing and saying appropriate wedding-y things. And, tonight, I listened to her tell me about the very near arrival of her first son, which certainly explained the near giddiness I detected in her voice. A baby boy. A baby boy for my oldest friend.

I've had many similar conversations with old friends lately about pending weddings and new babies. And, I've received two phone calls this week, alone, from a friend that I haven't spoken to in six months. I'm almost certain she is going to tell me that she, too, is expecting her first child.

Weddings are great. New babies are incredible. I happen to like both, very much. And, I truly feel delighted when a friend joins the ranks of the wives and mothers. Both are titles that I feel very intrigued by, although, entirely separated from.

I'm afraid that I have landed smack-dab in the middle of singledom. And, it's a wonderful place to be at times. I certainly have no other mouth to feed but my own. I have no extra laundry to fold, or beds to make. It's just me, in an appropriately small abode, with neither animal nor plant life to tend to (my one fish and one house plant have both died in the last two weeks)

But, the thing about this place called Singledom is that everything feels temporary-- life is a constant transition. Next week I might, very well, be hanging out with people I barely know and the week after that I may be referring to them as my friends.

Everything is subject to change.

The question that I've been asking myself this week is (yes, this sounds completely disingenuous, but bear with me): What's it all about? What am I supposed to be accomplishing in my single life? Surely, God has more for me than Starbucks on Thursdays, and weekends packed with activity.

As a married lady, I would have a clearly defined role. As a mother, I would have a clearly defined role.

What's the role of a single, twenty-something, woman?

I have time. Much more time than my married friends. And, I surely have more time than my friends with babies. I have time that I seem to fill with copious amounts of activity, but how much of that activity is in service of others? If I'm honest, I'd admit that it's not nearly enough.

Maybe the role of the single woman is to be a servant. Maybe the call is to serve others in preparation for life's next role as a servant to a spouse and family.

And maybe, just maybe, if I redirected my purpose towards the service of others, single life wouldn't feel so...singular