I'm (officially) ENGAGED!

I had a phase of my life where I convinced myself that I would never get married or have children, that I wasn’t even meant to do that. I didn’t attach emotion to the declaration; it was almost the opposite. I took a starkly rational and utilitarian view of my life and decided that the time and emotional energy necessary to foster a family was simply too much, and my time was best used in other places. My ultimate goal was, and really still is, to glorify God by serving others in love, and I believed that I would be more “efficient” at this goal if I didn’t worry myself with the very taxing business of finding a mate and raising kids. The underlying assumption was that domestic affairs were always at odds with my ultimate purpose; they were indulgences in fleshly desires that should be avoided if they could (I was reading a lot of Paul, if you know what I’m sayin’). 

Over the course of about two years, I spoke with mentors and friends about my proposed singleton lifestyle and began to recognize a few things: 1) to state that your mission is to love others and yet refuse the most intimate forms of love is ironic at best and an oversight at worst and more pertinently 2) I have substantially less control over my future than I seemed to assume at age 20. Of course, I could have chosen to consciously avoid romance at all turns, but I started to realize that I didn’t actually feel called to a life of celibacy in a spiritual sense. Instead of being called to monasticism, which I still believe is beautiful and highly respectable, I felt like I was running away from the vulnerability and humility required to share my life with another person. In my case, I wanted to be able to exert massive control over my life, insulating myself from some of the scariest things this world has to offer (re: rejection, loneliness, and betrayal) by self-proclaiming that I was above it all. So, recognizing that my motives weren’t pure in the Paulian sense, I opened myself up to romance, praying for the right guy but never quite seeming to find him.

And then I met Jordan. The man who actually met and even wildly exceeded all my expectations. Not only is he attractive and fun-loving and successful, he is also brilliant and motivated and loves the Lord wholeheartedly. Jordan is unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. It honestly feels like bragging to talk about him, but suffice to say he’s an organizational coach’s dream, a natural leader, and a man so disarmingly generous that it proves his identity is not in worldly possessions. I respect the hell out of him. (I wrote out examples about how he speaks multiple languages, has toured NATO countries to implement counter-terrorism models that emphasize root causes and listening, and recently ran 60 miles with a 9 minute mile average pace, but Jordan said it was too much. This little sentence is my rebellion against his humility).

Jordan has completely wrecked me in the best way possible. I never used to cry much, and now I find myself sporadically bursting into tears thinking of how thankful I am to have him. He is the soulmate I was too afraid to ask for, and yet still the Lord was gracious enough to let us find each other. He’s my best friend, my breakfast-cooking fiend, my roadtrip driver, my workout buddy, and now my fiancé. I used to fear that commitment would slow me down, but now I see how Jordan actually makes me better, pushing me further. We are more effective, more “efficient,” together than we were apart. And for that I’m incredibly grateful.