I was always going to write a book, but this one wasn’t in the plans. I thought I was going to write about an American Mennonite’s experience of living in Ireland, but I don’t think that one’s going to ever make it, which is very ok.
I remember hearing about a girl who was planning her wedding but her sisters (older and younger than her) could hardly be civil to her, consumed with their losses and desire to be brides. I felt sad for them, knowing some of their pain, but I felt strongly that they weren’t on Earth to be bitter about what they didn’t have.
What IS our greatest purpose? What ARE we here for?
If it’s to be happy brides and wives, some of us have failed our purpose.
If it’s to love and worship God, that option is open to anyone, anyone.
That was my driving motivation in writing the book: what were we created for, and how can we enter into it now, without a romance story? I wrote out of my experience and my hope. I wrote about what I knew and dreamed of. Looking back now, I think it was kinda audacious of me to start writing a book at age 30, and parts of it seem chirpier than I am now, but the premise hasn’t changed.
We were created for a vast, endless, creative love, and there’s no limit to entering into it and letting it transform our lives.
I wrote for singles ages 20-30 because that’s what I knew and had experienced. But often moms and pastors’ wives come up to me to say how the book meets them. I’m deeply honored that they read it, and am learning not to be surprised that it connects with them because we are, all of us, living in Plan B. None of is now where we thought ten years ago we’d be, are we? Unless you’re sitting at the same place you were, eating PopTarts™ slathered with marshmallow creme.
It seems that living well means figuring out how to thrive in Plan B. I’m still learning, steadily by jerks.
Singles don’t have a monopoly on disappointment, ambiguous grief, or unrequited love. We don’t suffer more than others, but we do live with a specific loss that deserves some attention sometimes.
You’ve probably heard a talkative mother say she was never going to marry, but here she is, with a house and family because some man came out of nowhere and swept her off her feet. She’s grinning as she says it, and people chuckle. She’s allowed to joke about her Plan B.
But a single lady isn’t allowed to say she was never going to be single at 26 or 46, but here she is, all dressed up with no date. Her Plan B is real, but not one people chuckle about.
We’re ALL in Plan B and for some it’s socially acceptable to talk/groan/chuckle about it, and for others of us, it’s not something we bring up at a fellowship dinner table.
I hope my book provides a safe, understanding place to name the Plan Bs readers find themselves in, and that it gives them ways to look at themselves, the future, and God–our generous, wise, gentle, lavish Creator. The book is a practical, realistic invitation to the love and worship we were all created for. My premise is that we thrive when we enter into that love and worship.
Gearing up for Cyber Monday, you can buy a digital copy of the book on Amazon or hard copy here at Christian Learning Resources. Under the banner of my blogsite’s home page, click on the book title and find the drop-down list of each chapter and you can read the first page of each. After you read it, I’d love to hear what you think!
I read it some years ago, and I liked it! I’m married now, but I appreciate single people. You truly do have a place to fill and we need you! I love being married, but I see many opportunities that I can’t do anymore, because I am married.
Hmm, this is a new thought to me, that everyone is living Plan B, but I think it’s true. Or as someone else wrote lately, “it’s a good thing the alphabet has 26 letters”. I heard someone in their high twenties say “I’ve never really experienced anything devastating and sometimes I just can’t believe how good life is for me.” It stuck out to me, because almost no one says that. Heartache is an inevitable part of living, and it’s bound to come to her sometime too. I’m married, but even that joy was never supposed to erase all our hurts. It’s everyone’s work to learn to live fully.
I loved your book, long ago when I read it. I’d like to again.