I’ve had one of those days recently. A day when being single just weighs on you. When all your single friends are busy and your married friends are, well, married. You spend most of the day trying to be productive. Reading. Writing. Praying. Then you eventually start just medicating. Turn on the TV. Put down the book and people watch at Starbucks, or what ever small coffee shop the hipsters prefer. But the more you medicate, the more something deep inside stirs, longing for more. Longing for depth – for wholeness. And all of these feelings come down to one thing.
Keep Reading at Single Roots
I’ve been quiet this past week. Part of that is because I wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to think any more than absolutely necessary. Part of that was because I felt I needed to write this post, and I honestly didn’t want to. I kept waiting for other words to come, so I could say something else. But nothing did. So, this is my story. It involves other people. I can’t tell their story and wouldn’t presume to try, but I felt compelled to tell mine.
