Guest blog- Finding Contentment in singleness

I met a boy in the banking hall. I was sure I’d seen him somewhere before and when he looked at me, he had the same look in his eyes. We exchanged numbers and he asked me to hang out. He made me excited and we spent some wonderful moments together. I remember telling him how hungry I was one morning and he showed up at my office with some sandwiches. He was so shy; he walked me out of the office, into the hallway, slipped his hands into his bag and quickly shoved the sandwich into my hands whilst maintaining eye contact and talking. It was such a boyish gesture and my heart was elated.

 

We fought over insignificant things whilst I struggled to keep my feelings for him in check, always waiting for him to break the ice. I remember battling with feelings to call him and stubbornly resisting it, replaying our last conversation where he repeatedly asked me if I could even begin to imagine how ill he was whilst I got upset about not being given ‘privilege’ to see him in hospital.

 

I was waltzing in my stubbornness when I casually received news of his death. Now, my memory of the boyish boy is a calm voice in my head with such a final goodbye; my last vision of him included me standing in front of the elevator with the doors shutting as he rode away and I went back to work. We weren’t fighting then.

 

Valentine’s day came shortly after his death and I wept most of the day and all through that period; sad tears filled with regret (my spirit had yearned to speak with him all through the weekend before he passed but I was determined to wait and then I finally decided that seeing him would be better but I procrastinated). I don’t cry when I remember him anymore.

 

My experience with the boy taught me to live in the present, and feel free to love indeed, as love covers a lot of seemingly wrongdoings (1 Peter 4:8). To me, loving means I act on my feelings in confidence, treating people with respect and practicing forgiveness on the go. We are only guaranteed this second. Why wait for a perfect time to forgive or apologise? Why hold back from creating memories for yourself, or for others? Why hold on to things that do not matter?

 

The boy taught me calmness. We fought a lot but I barely remember harsh words from him because he was always so calm, sometimes with a hard gaze reminding me to chill. He asked simple questions for clarity and taught me the art of conversation without being confrontational (still a work in progress). He was not perfect but his death (and a few other incidents) woke me up from waiting to be married.

 

I am no longer waiting. I’m living freed; free to love and be loved. Being single has made me realise that there is so much room for growth and I have so much to express through words- written and spoken, through doing, living and existing. I still hope my husband will come. He will have to catch up, and I hope he is busy fulfilling his purpose, and there’s stuff I can help him with too.

 

I believe God has my future planned and it is all encompassing (Jeremiah 29:11), so I live each day, hopeful that if I am following my instincts, doing good, giving love, radiating like sunshine and being confident in my space, everything about me will keep falling into place, just as pleases my Creator. Achieving this level of independence in singleness is tough. However, it is liberating.

 

Love is freedom. Love is hope. I had to lose someone who wasn’t even ‘mine’ to learn even more to give and receive love in my present consciousness, further awakening the need to rely on my Maker so the love given and the love received is love as He taught it to be.

Winifred Dike is passionate about God and everything that matters to her. She’s a creative and meticulous individual with an overly analytical mind. She enjoys reading, photography, watching series, listening to music and spending time with loved ones. She particularly enjoys writing, from short love notes and long letters, to articles and reports. To find out more about her, please follow her on Instagram @winniechecx.