Why I Am So Glad I Didn’t Get My Way

Let’s be honest, most of us like to feel as if we have some semblance of control over our lives… right?

We all have a general idea of what we would like our lives to look like, and depending on the person you are, your idea may be just that, general, or it may be planned down to the smallest detail (such as the middle name of your third child)… or perhaps somewhere in between.

While it’s good to have goals and direction (believe me, there are plenty of individuals who lie on the opposite end), the problem begins if we hold onto specifics of those goals and dreams too tightly, especially when it comes to dating.

I can think back to my college days (and yes, it is thinking back, much further back than I’d like to admit), and remember a specific crush I had. If I’m being honest, perhaps the term ‘crush’ is an understatement. It was much more than that—it was a legitimate friendship (in other words, I wasn’t the crazy girl Facebook-stalking from afar who never actually approached the guy), but in my head I was always hoping it would develop into more than that.

In fact, I was convinced that it would.

My future (at least the one I had planned for myself) depended on it! And why shouldn’t it? We were friends, we had serendipitously arrived at the same college with shared interests, mutual commitment to our faith, and genuinely had a good time together. Unfortunately, I was leaving out one tiny detail. This guy wasn’t pursuing me. But man I sure had myself convinced that he would! I took ambiguous statements, any time together, opinions of others who knew the both of us, and my sheer willpower, to assure myself that it was of God and meant to be. 

You can likely predict how the story played out—this guy wasn’t pursuing me because he didn’t want to, it was as simple as that. And I was devastated. I remember thinking that he was the perfect guy, or at least, perfect for me, and now I’d have to venture out in pursuit of a far second. While I wish I would have learned my lesson the first time, I’m ashamed to admit that I needed a few more rounds for it to really sink in.

Though never again to that same extreme, similar scenarios played out post-college. I met a guy, there seemed to be mutual interest, I would get excited about how I wanted things to play out, and… nada. Sometimes there was no mutual interest, sometimes it went as far as a few dates but not beyond, and I found myself getting more and more frustrated. I had all of these great ideas, and I had even surrendered my first and greatest idea, and yet, they weren’t coming to be. 

I eventually learned a most valuable lesson by all this.

As I’ve grown in my faith life, development as a person, and matured (at least I hope), I’ve come to realize one common thread uniting all of those past experiences, and that is a lack of freedom. When we commit ourselves so intensely to an idea, particularly the specifics of an idea, our happiness begins to rest on it and we’re not free.

I wasn’t free to see and welcome with open arms what the specifics of God’s actual plans were for me when I was busy planning my future with my specifics in mind, (even when my ‘specific’ person wasn’t interested). I shudder to think how much time and heartbreak I wasted due to my desire to want to control the outcome under the extremely prideful assumption that my ‘specifics’ were best. 

Fast forward to now. Much later than I intended, having met in a much different way that I would have planned, and being surprised by the ‘specifics’ of this person that are much different than I would have imagined, I take one look at the man I am with and am filled with gratitude by the fact that I didn’t get my way. I am so grateful that my plan A, and heck, my plans B, C, and D, didn’t work out.

God’s specifics have proven to be infinitely better.

I knew they were his because I wasn’t forcing God’s will into a mold I was clinging to, but rather, I was surprised by something outside of anything I had imagined. 

God brings people together in all sorts of ways. I firmly believe that every couple’s story is different, and ultimately a relationship comes about in God’s timing, not ours. I share my story not to paint a new standard or ‘specifics’ to seek to align your relationship or future relationship to, but rather to speak to the power of letting go of our way and truly allowing ourselves to be surprised by God’s way.

My hope is that this story may serve as a source of encouragement vs. a source for comparison. Continue to hope for good things: for your vocation, for a holy marriage. But if you find yourself committed to an idea or a person that just aren’t shaking out, if you experience a lack of freedom, work to let those specifics go. Our specifics are human, tend to be limited, and keep us shackled.

As I found out in hindsight, my way was mediocre at best, and even though I wanted to hold onto it for so long, kicking and screaming at times, standing on this side of it, I am so glad that I didn’t get my way.