Written by John David
Intro. Two. Three. Four.
Hearing that cue ring through my in-ear monitors means one thing: the song has begun. And depending on the song in question, how the arrangement was laid out, or where in the church service it will be played answers the question of how long before I hear the next set of cues.
Verse. Two. Three. Four.
The song begins, and so also the journey we walk the gathered church through, lyrically speaking. Sometimes, it may be a high-energy opener that calls us to remember who we are because of what God has done through Jesus Christ; a song of testimony compelling the struggling to hold onto the promises of God once again; or an anthem of exaltation that, despite the vertical lyrics, I reckon fails to fully convey the awesomeness of our God and the adoration He’s due.
Wash, rinse, repeat a few more times during the gathering and you have the usual rhythm I’ve gotten used to as a church creative-slash-seasoned music worship leader. I know where to enter if I’m supporting vocally, and parts I need to emphasize if I’m the one leading it.
Yet sometimes, I get dealt the occasional curveball, like this one time the band went one full measure too early and was forced to bail out of the cue. Some say I’m still waiting for the cue to start Verse 1 to this day. (Thankfully there’s no recording of that service anywhere or else some well-meaning friends will never let me live that down!)
By this point, if you’re neither a musician nor in a local church that uses Ableton, you’re probably tempted to close this reading, question how in the world is this even a compelling feature, and move on with your day – but hear me out. I make that unnecessarily long setup to finally get to where I really want to walk you through: as somebody on the ‘wrong side’ of his young adult years, there have been times I wished dating, let alone life as it is, was as predictable as a well-arranged song on Sunday morning. You know what’s coming up and what’s expected of you.
Chorus. Two. Three. Four.
But let me go ahead and pump the brakes on the idea myself before it even goes anywhere: no, it is very not.
I entered my young adult years with a kinda-sorta-not-really expectation of how it would play out – the one where I wrap up my undergrad; get a job; settle into and serve a community of God-fearing, others-loving believers; and come out the other side years later with someone I’ll be sharing the journey with foreverandeveramen. It took a little longer than I expected, but as of this writing I can soberingly say God has put together most of the things I had prayed for when I entered this chapter of life.
I graduated university after almost throwing my academic career away in my teenage years.
I make a living impacting the day-to-day lives of people I’ll probably never meet, under the guidance and support of colleagues who aim to set one another up for success.
I get to be part of a God-fearing, others-loving community of believers and have had the privilege of serving said community in many ways, even in avenues I didn’t expect.
For what it’s worth, life as it is is good.
And yet, if you read the checklist I established a few paragraphs ago, you can easily guess what’s missing.
I had always thought that by this end of my young adult life, I would’ve either been married or, at the very least, on the road to establishing said covenant. And I had thought I’d be well on my way not too long ago when out of nowhere God brought someone unexpected into my life who, in short order, became my first girlfriend (and only one to this day, not that anyone should be counting). The relationship, if my recollection is right, was mutually beneficial and, despite our flaws as sinful human beings, blessed those around us. Yet unfortunately, the global pandemic exposed the reality that it was for the best that we went our separate ways. And so we did, a year-and-a-half in.
I wish that what I can write next is that although it took a while for me to dust myself off, I did in fact get back up, put myself out there again, and had it figured out by now. Unfortunately, only half of that sentence is even remotely true. Yes, it took a long time, but through clinging to Christ and serving His people I began to heal. I’m in a really great spot in life where on a regular basis I can give back the creativity He’s gifted me with as a form of worship, inspire those who are part of the generation after me, and I’ve made some really meaningful friendships along the way who cheer me on in my work for Christ.
However, my ministry training also compels me to not sell you just an unrealistic picture of life whenever I’m doing a testimony piece, like this one; that the Christian life is not always rainbows and butterflies, but rather an unpredictable rhythm of battles and blessings.
So let’s just go ahead and rip the bandaid off, shall we?
Yes grandma, I’m still single.
And, as a matter of fact, I’m reeling from a recent attempt to ask someone out that resulted in the lady in question saying that she didn’t feel the same way.
At this point of the writing, the temptation is to go down the road of openly wondering what might be wrong with me; if there’s something I’ve yet to figure out that disqualifies me from the same happiness I’ve seen those around me attain for themselves.
But I’m going to choose the path probably less travelled by those in a similar position as I am: the one that soberingly says, for all intents and purposes, I’m probably right where God wants me for now.
And for what it’s worth, this season of life does bring some perks. The biggest one being I am able to dedicate more of my free time to serve the community God has placed me in. If there’s a need in a context I’m serving at, odds are I can probably fill it in short notice. It’s not that I’m glamourising overextending oneself, don’t get me wrong; but I know for a fact that I won’t be able to have the capacity, let alone the flexibility, if I were in a relationship, and especially not when I’m married.
Sure, that desire for companionship will probably not go away (and will sting more the older I get), but what keeps me going in this season of life I’m in is the realization that, in the end, God causes things to work out. I’ve seen this play out not just in my own life, but in those around me as well.
Allow me to end this feature by quoting a song I’ve had the privilege of leading in church last fall:
You made a way where there was no way, and I believe I’ll see You do it again.
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I want to express my utmost gratitude to Rebecca not only for the space she provides for survivors, but also for everyone else navigating the complicated waters of dating in the Christian community. (It shouldn’t be this complicated, for crying out loud, but that’s a rant-slash-story for another day.) It is with that in mind that I must say that I genuinely struggled to put together the story I’ve been privileged to share below, because just like everyone else I’m nowhere near figuring things out yet I don’t want this to be just another sob story – a road, to my shame, I’ve gone down far too many times. Rather, if you don’t remember anything from what I’ve laid out here, may my contribution to the conversation here be of encouragement to those in a similar season like mine; that God is still writing your story. It’s cliche, I know, but I’ve seen it play out far too many times to be convinced He can also do it for you.
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