OK, so we’re single. We have to be independent, right? As one of my friends in her 40s said—it’s not appropriate for us to be living with Mom and Dad just because we’re not married. Those days are long gone.   We’re responsible adults, forced, in many ways, to do everything a man does while still doing what a woman does. We earn a living, keep the house, get the car fixed, pay the bills, do the grocery shopping, make the meals, take out the trash and, if you’re a mom, carry the full weight of child-rearing.   Independent living, however, is different from self-sufficiency. One is...

So, whose fault is it—prolonged singleness? Is it the single person’s? Society’s? And for the believer, is it safe to give God and His sovereignty some of the blame?   In my last post, several of you made comments that touched on a couple of these ideas. I don’t have space to discuss all of them here, but for now, there is a point I’d like to make.   The world is not as it was, back in the pristine days of Eden. That garden is no longer part of our earth, which is now tangled and weeded. Life comes with stinging thorns and thistles, with painful disappointment.   Circumstances aren’t...

Lovely lady, why are you still single?   Maybe I should clarify why I ask. Prolonged singleness is an obvious trend in American society today. Did you know that half of the women in our nation are single?   Consider this. When God made the world, He thought everything He made was good. Genesis 1 records His thoughts after each act of creation: “…and God saw that it was good.” Sky and land? Good. Moon and stars? Good. Plants and animals? Good.   And then, the first man came on the scene—Man, created in the image of God. Yet, God made this observation: “It is not good for the man to...

I’ve always been told that I look like my mom. Someone once said I have her smile. It has always been clear to me how I take after her—from my inability to sit still “doing nothing,” to my propensity to “whip up” cookies at a moment’s notice, to my enjoyment of planning and preparing meals for guests.     For over a year now, Dad has been my only parent. And although I’ve always known that I inherited his love of peanut butter (which is a given if you are born a Chantelau), his good teeth and his aptitude for interesting word choices, I’m now more aware than ever before how much I take after...

and let this yearning rest in You reminding me that even the dust of earth, which I’m made of, along with its rivers and trees, stones and mountains, is lonely   for the day when You and I will no longer be separated by hope   and though the ache runs deep let it lead me to the place where only glory waits— Yours, in the wordless groans that impart the strength to endure   and the ability to receive unseen love   until disappointment itself rejoices that my heart at long last sees Your face   Romans 8:18-27...