The second woman to share her testimony of grace is Audrey. To quote Anne of Green Gables, Audrey is a “kindred spirit”. She is kind-hearted, thoughtful, and funny. Her favorite color is yellow and her favorite animal is her old-man-pup Atlas (sadly not pictured). Read through Audrey’s story, then look through the mini-gallery featuring her (and her nephew Scotland).
“When I hear the word testimony it’s often hard for me to think of what to tell. A big part of that is because I’ve always known God. I’ve wrestled with and had to tell and retell to unbelieving ears and I continually come to the point where I cannot remember a time when I did not know Him. Often, I have devalued my story because there was never a big conversion, a moment where Jesus physically saved my life, or addiction. And for a long time, I thought that meant that I didn’t really know God; that I didn’t have value because my story wasn’t shocking. It was a lie that I bought and believed over the truth.
The truth is that I don’t have value because of my story, although my story does have value. I have value because I know Him.
And I have lost that truth more than once in my life. I have chosen to claim my value in a myriad of places and people before reestablishing myself as Daughter. When I was younger I lived in a small town in Kansas. Like most small towns there was a high amount of value placed on sports and academia. And I didn’t exactly fit the bill. To make up for this, I chose to root myself in an identity of being different. I thought that I stood out in all of my differences of enjoying music and drama, of being close with exchange students and outsiders, and of genuinely enjoying our church youth group. Turns out I was often seen as quiet, in the background, and simply nice.
A chunk of my adult years was spent living at home with my parents. It was information that was regularly met with a facial expression of “ohhhh” and it was apparent that the wheels would begin to turn with “Why would she do that? What’s wrong with her?” I worked a good job that I enjoyed and was able to pay my student loans on time. Money regularly went into savings and would later be used to send me on a year long mission trip. My relationship with my parents was rebuilt, not only as their child but also as their friend. It was an identity that I wore with great reluctance because of the judgement I felt, but I now carry gratitude for the time.
A part of my identity that I have struggled to claim and sometimes claim too strongly is “single.” You see I have never been in a romantic relationship. I clarify that “romantic” because life is full of relationships. Multitudes of friendships have moved in and out of life, with many of them continuing or resurfacing over the years. There are many people that I could show up on their doorstep and they would do everything they can to assist me, as I would for them. And with all of those relationships with friends, acquaintances, family, and strangers on the street, I have never had a romantic relationship.
When I was young it was incredibly easy to see the blessings God gave me in not dating. Watching my classmates and friends go through relationships in high school was almost painful and I gladly stood on the sidelines of their heartache. They dealt with pain, loss, grief, anger, and the inevitable small town awkward when you have every class with your ex.
At the start of college, it was still fairly easy. I started my years focusing on my education and forming friendships that would last forever. My friend group dated on and off, but most of us stayed single into adulthood. By the end of college, though, my single status was tinged with worry: what if I hadn’t met my spouse and never would; what if the reason I never dated was I was undatable; what if there was something so broken no man would ever love me. It was when I wrestled with those questions that I realized that as a young girl I had formed a short life plan – I would graduate from high school and find a good college to attend and graduate from and somewhere between all of that I would find my spouse and marry soon after college… the end.
I had forgotten that life plans don’t always work, that life isn’t a fairytale film. My brain and my heart had misplaced the knowledge that God has goodness for me in the truth. The truth being that I am His first and foremost, and that my brokenness is conquerable, there is no such thing as undatable because He created us for community and connectivity – to Himself and each other, and He created a vast world full of creation willing and waiting to love each other. Wrapped in my little truth blanket I set off again, worry free and ready to remind the younger, more desperate than I, that God has them. Look at me! I’m so normal you never even guessed that I was forever single!
And thus began my war with pride, both as a reality and a false front to my struggle. The reality of it was showing that single is an option. That life fulfillment is not found in a spouse, a date, or a long-term anything. When I worked with youth, I tried to actively show them what I was struggling to learn: that you are not defined by a person, status, job, circumstances, grades, education, or anything else that is an external factor of life. I spoke it as truth over them and truth over me. And more often than not I had to follow my oh-so-inspiring speech with answering questions:
“How did you stay single?” “Have you ever even liked someone?” “I don’t believe you. You’re lying to me.” “Wait, so no husband, boyfriend, or kids? Are you a special angel from the Lord?” “Hold my hand and I’ll be your boyfriend.” “So, does that make you a church lady?” “Do you even like boys?”
Answering those questions is usually fun, sometimes painful in exploring and finding truth, but always growing, for both me and the people asking them. In exploring the options and questions, you face the stereotypes you have and the ones you fear from others.
I’ve established my value over and over again in what people think of me. Time again I struggle with innately knowing my value in God and instead glean it from the people who surround me. I let an opinion, which often waxes and wanes, be the guide to how I am worthy. This often creates an ever-expanding struggle when the people that love me and that I love are upset, angry, or disappointed with me. And therein lies the grace that God has given me my singleness. I’ve had the chance to discover some of my baggage and struggles that will come in any relationship I take part in. God hasn’t made my struggles disappear. He hasn’t healed the breaks and wounds of my soul. What He has done is covered me with grace, revealed my brokenness so I can see healing in the making, gifted me with growing discernment to actively pursue Him, wholeness, and truth when I begin to believe in titles of lies.”
