Singular Perorations

There’s a series of questions I’ve come across (and have come to dread and expect to be asked), in my more than 15 years of involvement in ministry. It’s actually a variation of the same theme: “Are you married?” “Do you have a wife?” “Do you have a girlfriend?” “Do you want to meet someone, because I know of someone who perfect for you.” No, no , no, no and how do you know she’s perfect for me? Thank you, Holy Spirit personified for making the choice easier for me. Interestingly, although the questions do vary (though of the same theme, as stated earlier), almost always the reaction to the answer is invariable – a look of pity in their eyes, a rueful shaking of the head, and an embarrassed “I’m sorry.” It’s as if I’ve just said I’m dying of some horribly painful terminal disease, or I’m a junky of some sort. Someone dared ask, “Why aren’t you married,” which sounds like an accusation and a demand. Or here’s how a sensitive, tactful friend would put it : “It’s not as if you are totally ugly, or stupid, or something, but I wonder why you don’t have a nice girl?” Thank you for pointing that out so unequivocally. I’ve yet to meet a person who’d say, “You’re single and unattached? Good for you!”

So, let me make this clear, I am not griping about this state of my life, nor do I want to sound too desperate, or defensive. I am not. But these questions – well-meaning, I would suppose, just do not seem to let up. Not that there’s anything wrong with getting married it’s not just I am not yet married – or might never be married. I know marriage is a wonderful thing. It must be, judging by the proddings and constant match-making enterprise people seem to get into on my behalf. There are no occasion, no event, no situation that friends and acquaintances would not waste and turn it into a “Here’s a nice, single girl you’d want to meet” type of a scenario. Email addresses, cell phone numbers, telephone numbers and peccadilloes generously shared (do I really need to know that she likes to do THAT?!) Weirdest moment was during a funeral service I was the minister to. The grieving aunt of the dearly departed leans over and pokes me (during the singing of “What A Friend We Have In Jesus”) and says, “Have you ever met the daughter of my nephew (the recently departed), she’s single. You might like her.” How did she know that the only reason why I’m at the funeral service is to check out all the pretty, available girls there?

And I could not even begin to tell you how many garter belts I’ve caught from all the weddings I’ve attended (majority of which I have acted as the officiating minister or the best man –what can I say, always the best man never the…). Well, actually, “caught” is a misnomer. Almost always, the groom would just hand the garter belt to me. No pretensions of “throwing” the garter belt anymore. Or to save us all the trouble, I would just go up to the groom and just get the garter belt, because for all intents and purposes, it was clearly intended for me anyway. The object of the game, if you’re not familiar with the practice, is for you to be paired with the lucky girl who caught the bride’s bouquet, to whom the garter belt is put on (by you, of course), with the hopes you’d like each other and somehow, some way, you’d end up with each other. Hope springs eternal (cue in the saccharine-sweet love song).

Here’s the point to this rant. I might probably meet a girl I’d fall in love with someday. When that day comes, I will be the happiest man in the world. I will fall in love because there’s probably something about her that would captivate me, that would enthrall me, who knows. When I fall in love with her, I will certainly hope that she will feel the same way about me. I will meet her on my own accord, I will try to get her number, I will try to get to know her (you don’t have to tell me her secret, direst desires and eccentricities – I intend to discover them myself and I will find them endearing), I will do all these things to get her attention, win her affection, and hopefully her heart. I will, don’t worry. I do not need for friends to set me up, I do not need assistance in the matchmaking area. I believe that if I am to fall in love, I will fall in love with the girl I’m supposed to meet (or have met already, for all I know). Now, that might sound monumentally naïve and idealistic (and probably why I’m still unattached), but let me hold to these for a bit, ok?

Or I might end up single and unattached all of my life. And I would like to be happy when I do end up that way. I certainly do not need the constant matchmaking and the teasing to undermine what I might have. I would like to be content with this choice. I believe in squeezing every opportunity for joy, and I do not want to think that my joy and happiness would be dependent on some other person (no matter how wonderful and how amazing she can be) that I’ve yet to meet, for where does that leave me? I do not know if there is truth in the stereotype of the embittered, cold solitary souls we’ve come to read and see, but I would like to enjoy life to the brim, because after all, this is what I am, and this is where I can be my best.