Somewhere at the intersection of faith and reality lies a very human need for connection and partnership. For reasons only God fully understands, He created within us an innate desire for love. While love can show up in many forms—friendship, family, community—for the purposes of this conversation, I want to talk about romantic love… the kind many of us have experienced, long for, or are still waiting to encounter.
What Happens When What You Innately Desire Doesn't Happen?
What happens when you look around and it feels like everyone else is experiencing the one thing that keeps missing you? What do you do with that? Are you supposed to create it… force it… accept something close enough just so you don't feel left out? And when you do experience it and it ends—where does that love even go? These aren't abstract questions for me. They are personal.
I've experienced connection that felt real—late night conversations, laughter that came easy, moments that made me pause and think, this might be something. And I've also had to sit with what it feels like to not be chosen… and not fully understand why. That experience will make you sit with yourself a little longer.
It will make you ask questions you cannot avoid: Did I ignore what was clear? Did I stay longer than I should have? Was I hoping someone would become something they never actually showed me they could be?
And if I'm honest… there were moments I knew the situation wasn't aligned—and I stayed anyway. Not because I didn't know better. But because I wanted it to be something it wasn't.
Faith, Identity, and the Quiet Pressure
As a Black, professional woman of faith within the Seventh-day Adventist (SDA) community, I've also felt the quiet pressure that comes with that identity. There's this unspoken belief that if you love God, carry yourself well, and do "all the right things," love should just… happen. But life—and love—doesn't always follow that formula.
And I don't think the church has always known what to do with that.
There may be pockets of success, but too often "singles ministry" feels like a waiting room. A place that subtly says, you're almost there… just not yet. As if life hasn't fully started until someone chooses you. I don't believe that's God's design.
What Scripture Actually Says
Because when I actually look at Scripture, I see something different. In 1 Corinthians 7, Paul talks about singleness as a gift—not a punishment, not a placeholder, not something to rush out of—but a space where your life can be fully lived and fully devoted. And while not everyone is called to remain single, that passage makes one thing clear: your value is not tied to your relationship status.
Jesus lived a full, impactful, purposeful life—and He wasn't married. So fullness cannot be dependent on partnership. And that truth has required me to check myself. Because if I'm honest, there were moments I placed more weight on being chosen by a man than I did on being secure in who I already am in God.
Moments where I confused chemistry with alignment.
Moments where I stayed quiet instead of asking, what are we actually doing here?
Choosing Differently
Growth for me has looked like choosing differently. Walking away sooner. Not trying to decode mixed signals. Not needing closure from someone who benefits from keeping things unclear. And most importantly—trusting that if something is for me, I will not have to question it the whole time I'm in it.
That didn't come from bitterness. It came from healing. From sitting with God in the uncomfortable moments. From being honest about my desires without letting them drive my decisions. From learning that contentment isn't about pretending I don't want love—it's about trusting God even when I don't have it yet.
Philippians 4:11–13 says contentment is learned. And I'm still learning. Learning how to hold desire and peace at the same time. Learning that I can want love and still not settle for confusion. Learning that rejection—even when it stings—is often protection.
Because sometimes God will let something not work—not to hurt you, but to show you.
To show you where you were still compromising. To show you the difference between attention and intention. To show you that being equally yoked is more than shared belief—it's shared behavior, consistency, and emotional availability.
Navigating Love in Today's World
And in today's world… that matters. Because dating right now....It's complicated. Social media, podcasts, opinions—everyone has a voice telling you what love should look like. And if you're not careful, you'll start measuring your real life against someone else's highlight reel.
I've had to learn to come back to myself. To stop comparing. To stop rushing. To stop thinking I'm behind. And instead… to sit with my desires and bring them to God honestly. Not dressed up. Not filtered. Just real.
"God, You gave me this desire… I trust You with it."
And then I live. I build a life that feels full now. I invest in people who show up for me. I protect my peace. I enjoy where I am—without acting like this season is something I need to escape from. Because I'm no longer treating singleness like a waiting room.
Love From a Different Place
And when it comes to love, I want it from a different place now. Not from lack. Not from urgency. Not from "I hope this works." But from wholeness.
Because the right kind of love—the kind that reflects God—won't have me confused. It won't require me to overextend or question myself. It will be clear. Intentional. Consistent.
So yes… I still believe in love. I still want it. I still pray for it. But I'm no longer chasing it at the expense of myself. If it happens it's God and if not it's still God… I've truly learned contentment in all things.
Being chosen by the wrong person costs too much. And in the meantime...
I'm already living a life worth loving—and I honestly wouldn't change a thing.