My Savior, My Spouse?
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If you're one of those singles who finds comfort in Isaiah 54:5—"For your Maker is your husband, the Lord of hosts is His name … "—you should probably stop reading this column and go reread that passage instead. I'll catch you next time around.
But if you're one of those singles who reads that verse with equal parts confusion and consternation, read on, kindred. You're in good company.
Maybe part of what "bothers" me about this verse is the timing of when it's quoted to those of us without a spouse—usually right after we've expressed loneliness, a desire to be married someday (perhaps someday soon), or sadness over the end of a relationship.
The quoters mean to be encouraging, I know, and sometimes this verse does offer a needed reminder that God is always with us; he's a relationship constant in a world of frequent moves, shifting friendships, painful divorce. And he offers not just any relationship, mind you, but intimate relationship. God desires the kind of close interaction with us that sparks comparison to that of a husband and wife. He's not a distant, cold, ambivalent God; he's an up-close, hands-on, how-was-your-day, cares-about-the-details kind of God. At least when we let him be that kind of God. And yes, sometimes hearing this verse reminds me of all these wonderful truths.
But most days, when this verse is directed specifically at singles, it can be guilt inducing. You feel lonely? Just cling to Jesus. You want a husband? Jesus already is your husband. Isn't he enough for you?
Well, yes … and no. Yes, Jesus is my foundation, my savior, my hope. He's the friend I chat with when my eyes first open in the morning, when I'm in the shower, when I'm driving to meet a friend for coffee, when I'm washing dishes in my pj's. He shapes my paradigm, and on my good days, he also shapes my spending habits, my words, the way I spend my time, and the thoughts in my head. He's the only one who knows all my countless quirks, neuroses, failures, and mistakes—and loves me perfectly anyway. But ….
As a friend said to me on the phone the other day, "Jesus can't change my oil, watch a movie with me on a Friday night, or offer me a hug at the end of a tough day." Amen, sister. Sure, he can accomplish these things—through the expertise, arms, and overall presence of his kids allowing him to work through them. And that's my point—this requires the presence of people. Not in place of God—but being God to us in those moments of need for help or human companionship.
A mid-20something friend of mine recently told me the story of what happened when she moved out of her parents' home for the first time. She had lofty visions of "just me and Jesus" in her first solo home, and instead experienced something closer to desperation and depression. "I learned the hard way we weren't designed to be lone rangers," she said.
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