Slow Dancing with Jesus

I have always gone through cycles where I am content with my single status for a period and then completely miserable in it for a period.  When I say "for a period," I mean a few days.  In all honesty, this is a day of discontent. 

My reason has a store of arguments for why I should embrace my singleness.  There's the feminist that says I don't need a man to give my life meaning and, even if I spend my life as a single woman, I can still have a full successful life.  There's the optimist who shouts that my life is already brimming with love and joy so I have nothing to complain about.  The pessimist grumbles that I'm never going to find someone so I should get used to being alone now.  The jaded claims that men only want to use me and leave me so I'm safer on my own.  The selfish whines that a relationship means sharing my time and energy and decisions with someone else.  The pragmatist recognizes that, if I want to do NaNoWriMo properly, then I won't have any time to invest in a new relationship until December.  The pious warns against rushing into something that is not from God and reminds me that everything has a season.  The faithful urges me to hold tight to promise that God has chosen someone for me and wait. 

Still, the heart wants what the heart wants so it doesn't bend to any of these arguments.  I only know that I'm sick of loneliness and disappointment.  I am impatient for a change so I remain discontented.

Then there a moments like worship this Sunday morning.  I closed my eyes as I sang to Yeshua and I felt his arms wrap around me.  Just like that, it was only the two of us.  We swayed to the music as I buried my face against his chest.  He whispered verses from Song of Solomon to me and I knew that I was someone beautiful and precious and desirable.  I knew I was someone worth dying for.  My fairy tale had already come true.  Nothing else mattered, no other relationship mattered under the truth that I belong to my Jesus and my Jesus belongs to me. 

It's a shame how quickly I let go of these moments.  I allow the world to come crowding in and the memory slips away.  I keep playing with the idea of getting "Yeshua" tattooed on the ring finger of my left hand as a constant reminder that's it's a passionate, romantic, all consuming love my Jesus has for me.  That truth is all I'll ever need.