I'm giving up dating for Lent.

But why would I write a blog about it?

Because I’m a writer. Writing is as much a part of me as singing and performing. It’s the way I process the world around me; it's the best way I know how to communicate; it feels as natural to me as breathing.  I think that when God gives us gifts, He asks that we serve others with them. So I want to invite you, reader, into my Lenten journey because I hope it might be helpful.  If a small nugget resonates with you or comforts you, then writing this will have been worth it.

I’m a bit sheepish about letting you into something that's been a struggle for me.  But Tim Keller says that when we follow Jesus as our King, we obey Him, trust Him, and expect great things from Him.  So I’m expecting great things from Jesus, and I want to share them with you.

In this messy journey, I hope to be honest and transparent.  That doesn’t mean that I plan to share all the dirty details of my heart, but it does mean that I might be irreverent or offensive.  But sometimes being offended is the most powerful catalyst for change; when we truly see and taste our brokenness,  we finally allow enough space for God to become big in us. 

So, what's wrong with dating anyway?

Nothing. There's nothing inherently wrong with dating.  I’m giving up dating because I’m tired of it. Bottom line.  This blog isn't about how dating has gone sour in our culture and why marriages are failing because of it. Someone else can write about that, I'm certainly not qualified to. Instead, I want to bring you with me on a road to recovery and restoration. 

For most of my adult life, the burning question in the back of my mind has been: Who am I dating?  The answer has often determined my mood, thoughts, decisions and goals, and, most unfortunately, my self-worth.

This truth is then complicated by how easy dating has become.  As millennials – a date is often available at the touch of a fingertip. There are websites and apps; we can meet and flirt with new people at work, school, bars, church, or coffee shops.  Finding someone to date has not been the problem lately, at least not for me.

But I’m not looking for someone to date.  I want to be a wife and a mother.  I won’t apologize for or hide those desires.  Marriage and family are stunning gifts, rare pictures of intimacy and unconditional love in a broken world.  The desire isn’t the problem, but rather how much I desire those gifts.  I want them more than I want God; I am more fascinated and intrigued by potential husbands than I am with the One who created them.  I am more interested in the gift than the Giver. 

Needless to say, I’ve had some salty conversations with God about why He has been seemingly silent about this.  John Newton says, “Everything is needful that He sends; nothing can be needful that He withholds.” 

Honestly, I don’t believe that. And I suspect that I’m not alone.  So this Lenten season, I’m making some room.  I’m inching over to give Him some space to work in my unbelief, to show me lies that I'm believing.  I’m going to wait open-handed for His words, His healing.

Join me?