DARE YOU TO HOPE

It's one thing to talk about the perfect-world scenario—boy likes girl, girl likes boy, boy asks girl on date, girl accepts, they date and fall madly in love—it's another thing entirely when the dating environment resembles crossing a five-lane highway blindfolded and inebriated. The current reality is that many Christian women aren't getting asked out by Christian men, and this dating vacuum is sucking some women down a desperate hole.

So what's happening? Is it us, women, the problem? Or are men loosing their 'knight in shinnnig armour' attitude?

It was months ago when I attended a friend's birthday party. Feeling a bit out of place not knowing many people, i quietly blend myself in the background having a chat witha significant someone, hoping that time would pass quick so that I can get back home.

That's when I noticed him.

An oh-so-handsome guy, who, from what I've seen and overheard from others, seems confident in his Christianity. For the first time a guy looked at me with eyes so piercing. The next moment, i realise he was walking stright towards my direction. Just. My. Type. And just a few feet away! First, I was stunned. Then I felt a twinge in my heart, a flutter it took me a moment to recognize. All at once I felt all cartoony, twitterpated, and full of irrational exuberance. Unfortunately, it turned out that he was more interested in talking to my friend instead of me. But that was besides the point.

For a moment, I felt confused and foolish for responding this way. It's not as though this guy seemed at all interested in me. But soon I realised why I felt the way I did. For the first time in a long time, I felt hopeful. Seeing this guy gave me concrete proof that the kind of man I want to marry exists, and reminded me that God is capable of bringing us together—if nothing else, at least into the same room!

When it comes to my desire to date, let alone marry someday, hope often demands more faith than I have. For me, it's safer to believe what I see. It's simpler to look at the sociological studies that point out that women in my demographic have a shrinking pool of eligible, low-baggage bachelors to choose from and conclude that the right man probably isn't coming along. It's easier to look around and realize I haven't met him at work or church and decide I'm better off not dreaming about him.

That way, I can focus totally on living in contented, purposeful singleness without the potential for disappointment. I can make plans for me, just me, without including the hope of this guy I've yet to meet. I can focus my prayers on my friends, my goals, my commitments, instead of directing a few prayers toward the dream of meeting this guy who seems to not exist. I can hope that if I ignore this desire, sublimate it, even spiritualize it, maybe it will go away.

Hope is dangerous. If I open myself hoping that one day I will meet this guy, I open myself to the possibility of yes and no. I concede that I will be disappointed if my story doesn't unfold this way. I acknowledge that although I've been able to accomplish most everything I've tried so far, there may be a part of my life, an important part, beyond my control. I recognize a yearning that the love of my family, an enjoyable career, and other meaningful relationships can't completely satisfy. I open my heart to risk love and my mind to wrestle with the difficult reality that the God I trust may allow me to experience heartbreak, failure, uncertainty. I begin to think not only about how my life will take shape if it doesn't happen, but also what it will look like if … it does.

I'm not completely sure why God allowed me to see this man who seems so right for me. I don't know if he's priming me for someone just around the corner, or whether he's simply fanning the embers of hope in my heart. But a part of me is deeply grateful that he cares enough to challenge me to live more fully by venturing to hope. His promises—and that sighting!—are reason enough.