Dear Valentine,

Last year at this time, I posted what became my most popular post, entitled It Should be Addressed.  It was a vulnerable statement of my identity in the midst of singleness.  Because of the thousand comments in my life that I have received in regards to my singleness, it was also a difficult thing to write, but some things, frankly, should be addressed.

It is not encouraging or helpful for people to suggest that faith is lacking, or that if one would just find contentment in his/her singlehood, only then will the love of one's life come.  It relies on an underlying premise that something is wrong in the single person's life, that something is broken.  It creates a belief that one is flawed, until... they are no longer single.

In truth, the love of my life is God.  I seek His will, His ways.  I am a woman full of both faith and contentment, yet I remain single.  The way I see it, I am complete, because I am in Him.  So if there is a flaw, isn't it in those particular words of "encouragement?"

A friend and I were talking recently about how we love the way God works.  God doesn't only begin to see us as useful when we become one with another.  He has purpose in us when we are single and purpose in us when we are married.   
             Shall I repeat that?   
                                 He has purpose in us!

Now that is encouraging.  In the meantime I will continue to trust the Lord that my promise will come.  Afterall, He gave me a promise some years back that I would not remain alone.  I can trust His word. It may not look or come as I would have expected, but it will come.

God is not a man, that he should lie, nor a son of man, that he should change his mind. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill? - Num 23:19

His is the voice to which I will listen.  I will continue to live out His purpose within me even as I stand in Him alone.  I will live this life abundantly, just as He gave it to me, in both singleness and when married.   I will not worry about the words said by others.  And to you, dear Valentine, I pray for you, that you would be strong in courage as you live out the purpose He set in you.  This is the man I will love, and in God's time, we will live out His purposes together.

A Chorus of Glory

My most recent post, Why We Remember, while dedicated to the memory of 9/11, brought Christian perspective to the general importance of rembrance.  

Remembrance gives purpose. Remembrance brings gratitude.  

Remembrance strengthens community.  Remembrance provides perspective.  

Remembrance reignites hope 

in what God will bring us through today and forever... 

because He is faithful.

Today, I was reading this post by my friend Bonnie over at Faith Barista; it is a tribute to a dying friend through whom a song of joy still rings clear, a song that will resound long after death because of the work of God in her.  In this story, I heard a familiar melody and her name was Sweet Michelle.  In her brief four months, she taught me how to fight for life and reminded me of the Kingdom for which we are made and in which we are called to live now.  Today I remember her, and it reignites my hope, because it brings me back to Him, the One who brings us through... the One who really is faithful. 

Let us not take this life for granted and let us live every breath in worship of our loving God, letting the songs of our lives resonate even now, a chorus of His glory.

Should you want to know more, the following are excerpts from my newsletters sent in 2006, sharing the story of Michelle Amani.  Much has been edited out for length and sensitivity.

January
It was the 4th of October, when a 16 year-old Ugandan gave birth to a premature girl. Weighing only 1.47 kilos, the baby was left to fend for itself when the mother made a prompt exit from the hospital.  The social worker at Mulago hospital handed her to me, saying she needed a name for their records.  “Abandoned Baby Girl” was renamed Michelle for my sister.

Sweet Michelle, as I call her, is the color of brown sugar, not like the light sandy grains at home, rather the dark, syrupy crystals we import here from Kenya. She fits perfectly cradled in my arm, allowing her to pull her right arm out over top of the blanket, rolling her palm into a small fist.  She draws it up to rest under her chin, pursing her lips as she dreams.  Already a diva, she pushes out her upper lip in a reverse pout as she opens her eyes, expecting attention.  The workers insist on keeping her dressed in pink for her namesake, and just like my big sis, she loves both to sleep and get her own way.

The boy who had come to us with Michelle that day had died from his conditions.  It was only a few days after burying him, that our nurse came upstairs, flustered and shaking.  “Holly, your sister is sick.”

Tests revealed that she is HIV Reactive, with hepatitis, a bacterial infection, anemia, etc.

Hours can pass so quickly when just holding her, praying for her, loving her. You want no moment to be wasted. Mom, was this what you felt when you held my sick infant body for so long? Yet I am alive, healthy and strong. I have to believe the same for my sister, this child who like so many of our others will carry with her the name of our orphanage on her paperwork, on her history. In that gesture alone she has written into her identity the Swahili meaning of Amani, peace, and the Lugandan, power.

She looks boldly into my face when I hold her, black eyes locked to my brown, like she knows something we’ve forgotten.

February
When Sweet Michelle would look at me so boldly, I think I know what made her stare unwaveringly.  Michelle was only four months old but was born with a knowledge not gained through years on this earth, rather it is a knowledge often dimmed by our time in this place.

While I was away for the weekend, I got the text that she had fallen sick and lost a kilo in the course of one night. With almost half of her body weight gone and all that history of illness, I knew it was desperate. I loved her and she had been showing such progress.

I held her tiny frame from early morning until late evening Monday. Tuesday she went to Kampala. She died with all the symptoms of Stage 4 AIDS on Wednesday, January 25th.

We never know what all God is doing when our prayers for healing are answered in different ways, but we have to trust Him. You see, we can get too accustomed to our lives.

Michelle knew we were not made for the things of this earth, but for the Kingdom of God. I think she knew this in her spirit as we are all born with a longing for God.  Her story reminds us that this is all just a beginning. That alone makes it a story of hope, in spite of sadness.

It should be addressed...

While Valentine's Day may seem to be a little ways off yet, having two weeks still before it surfaces in all its red ruffled glory, the topic seems to be floating on candy heart clouds already.  I've seen the stuff in shops, heard it mentioned in churches and even read about it online.  This is one of those polarizing holidays that seems to have a profound effect on the majority of folk in Western cultures, whether it be swooning or snarling.  It seems it cannot be escaped.

I'll be honest, this is not a topic with which I am comfortable.  I don't like the drama, the presumptions and all the [insert flustered sound effect here] that seem to go along with it.  So when Bonnie over at Faith Barista urged us to get ready for Valentine's by asking what we wished someone had told us about dating/marriage, I couldn't think of a single thing.  I could however think of a thousand things I wish folk had never said, especially when spoken under the presumption that it was encouraging...

"Oh honey, you are still so young,  

too young to be thinking about marriage... oh, you're how old?

Oh.  Well.  Don't worry.  

You'll be just like my good friend so-and-so.

She didn't meet her husband until she was sixty-five, 

or was it seventy..."  

Ummm... thanks?

Sharing the frustrations of interchanges like this one often only lead to more of the same, which can be patronizing and, frankly, even more isolating. You see, as a single person, my experience has taught that whenever the topic of relationships comes up, others seem to forget everything else they know about the person.  Instead they fixate on this one facet and in their attempt to help, begin imparting all the how to's stored in their arsenal.  They attack what they wrongly presume to be depression, obsession, unbelief and advise more makeup and new clothes.  In that moment, the single person is treated as though he/she has no other identity.

I am so much more than the sum of my singleness.   

I was so relieved this week when I could vent with a friend who flat out admitted that she had no clue what my situation would be like, but she could still speak truth into my life because she knows me and she knows God.  No advice, no stretched attempts to relate, just God's truth about my attitude.  Because left unchecked, those thousand things I could have lived without hearing can lead to bitterness, which according to the Bible is pretty destructive.  Every mention of it in the OT has it paired with affliction and death.  It is where joy is not (Job) and it squelches righteousness (Amos).  Ephesians 4 makes it pretty clear that bitterness has no part in our Christian lives.

³⁰ "And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, 

with whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.  

³¹ Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, 

along with every form of malice.  

³² Be kind and compassionate to one another, 

forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you."

No matter how secure I am in my identity, even the best-intentioned people will continue to dramatize, presume and [insert flustered sound effect again here] over this issue.  No matter how much I try to explain, there will surely be somebody who just won't see past it.  I cannot afford to grow bitter.  I can't control their focus.  I can only adjust mine by looking to God, who heals the wounds of their words and gives me the grace to forgive.  He knows exactly who I am and where I am.  He sees me for all I am, all He made me to be.

I am a daughter.  I am a sister.  I am a worshiper.  I am a pray-er.  I am a dreamer.  I am an overcomer.  I am an adventurer.  I've climbed Mt. Fuji and I've rafted the Nile.  I'd also been told to be more grateful I am single because I wouldn't have been able to do those if I were married.  I am very grateful for many aspects of my single life, but have seen many examples opposite to what I was told... that adventures of all types are not only possible within marriage, but can be greater.  I recall watching a certain sunset while floating across a sea in South East Asia and becoming suddenly aware of how much more beautiful it would be with someone beside me, sharing a lost breath at the marvel of God's handiwork.  Maybe that's the one thing I would want to be told about relationships, but where man may have failed in telling me the things I need to hear most, God has not.  He knows my heart (Psalm 139).  He has the best plans for me (Jer. 29).  He put in me these very desires and will deliver them according to His will (Psalm 37).   His is the voice I will listen to.  Will you?

Lord I pray that in this season when we acknowledge love, 

that we will keep our eyes on you, because in the light of who You are and all you've done, the offenses and wounds that have lingered in the darker corners of our hearts no longer have a place to hide.  Uproot bitterness and fill us with Your peace.  We are willing and we trust You with this most vulnerable part of our lives.  Amen.

A Reason

Kevin just wanted to know why.  Why would we give tea and coffee for free to people at these odd hours of the night, why we wouldn't discriminate amongst the rowdy crowd from the club, and why we were so patient with folk who maybe had a little more to drink than maybe they had intended.  It was a thought so unbelievable that it kept him in deep conversation with me for hours while we talked and served.  People can't seem to get past the answer, that it is about love, pure and simple.  People assume there must be some catch.  My athiest friend who has been helping serve each week chimes in, "I've been with them for months and still haven't figured it out.  Trust them, it is that simple."

So now it is 5:30 am on Saturday morning and I am just getting into bed, after writing this of course.  My legs feel like the cold is coming from within and radiating out, which makes my blankets feel useless, but they will help block out the light soon enough which makes them important.  My body is aching and my brain is struggling to figure out how few words I can say this all in so I can go on and get to sleep.

Why do I do this?

Because He first loved me.  (I John 4)

It really is that simple.

The truth is that we don't need tea and coffee for this.  Just imagine how much our communities would change if we all started living our faith publicly by simply showing God's love indiscriminately.  We are talking about the transforming power of Christ here.  Just see what He can do through our willing and surrendered hearts.  I dare us all.

This post is linked with the lovely folk at