Bailey from Big House in the Little Woods
...we define ourselves by marriage. Our unmarried years are marked by filling hope chests, overcoming crushes and trying to keep that binding verse: "She does him good all the days of her life." For all practical purposes, we're married to him presently.
This becomes sticky when we start making life decisions. We fear going to college because what if that super cute, super spiritual boy at home won't pursue us if we're in another state? Or we go to college because that's where we find the good ones (to paraphrase godly women). We don't start this project or pursue that interest because, well, it doesn't really look good on a homemaker's transcript. Once precariously in the position of eligibility and yet perhaps on the brink of fifty years of spinsterhood, we stop asking, "What is Your will, Lord?" and start asking, "How will this help me find a husband?"
This is frustrating because on the one hand of course we want to keep in mind that we are lovely, eligible young ladies any young gentleman would kill to marry. Of course we remember there's a good chance that this second he will drive up in his white convertible (I saw you look out the window just now). Of course we don't want to waste time and money on a career or an endeavor that will plunge us into debt and will defamiliarize ourselves from the home, which, besides being imprudent, makes us horribly ineligible-looking.
On the other hand, how do we know we're not slotted for the miserable state of nonmarriage, either for a few years or eternity?
This becomes sticky when we start making life decisions. We fear going to college because what if that super cute, super spiritual boy at home won't pursue us if we're in another state? Or we go to college because that's where we find the good ones (to paraphrase godly women). We don't start this project or pursue that interest because, well, it doesn't really look good on a homemaker's transcript. Once precariously in the position of eligibility and yet perhaps on the brink of fifty years of spinsterhood, we stop asking, "What is Your will, Lord?" and start asking, "How will this help me find a husband?"
This is frustrating because on the one hand of course we want to keep in mind that we are lovely, eligible young ladies any young gentleman would kill to marry. Of course we remember there's a good chance that this second he will drive up in his white convertible (I saw you look out the window just now). Of course we don't want to waste time and money on a career or an endeavor that will plunge us into debt and will defamiliarize ourselves from the home, which, besides being imprudent, makes us horribly ineligible-looking.
On the other hand, how do we know we're not slotted for the miserable state of nonmarriage, either for a few years or eternity?
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