By Wednesday, Emma had written three journal entries. She had broken her silence and was inviting God into her suffering, even if she wasn’t willing to let Him do anything with it just yet. He could listen, but she couldn’t let Him hold her yet. So, she focused on just being honest about her ambivalence.

            I’m sorry I haven’t been really speaking to You lately, her first entry began, but honestly, I don’t know what to say. My whole confidence in Your love for me has been shaken. I feel abandoned. I know that’s a terrible thing to say, but that’s how I feel. I was content as a single person for so many years, God. I was confident that You had the right relationship waiting for me, and that all I had to do was focus on You and be patient. I wanted a relationship that honored You and blessed others, and I wasn’t willing to settle for anything less. The vision of a relationship that would be Your best for me sustained me and diminished the temptation of anything less. So, it wasn’t hard to wait because I knew what I was waiting for and that it was worth it.

But now—I feel like I’ve been misled. It looks as though You have no intentions of my falling in love or getting married at all. Maybe You never did have any such intentions. I don’t understand why You gave me that dream or allowed it to motivate me all those years if it was a false hope. I don’t just feel lonely anymore; I feel disillusioned, which makes it more devastating. I can’t stand being alone anymore, but I feel unfit to be around other people. I used to love alone time, but now alone time just feels like a gaping, empty space that threatens to consume me slowly. I don’t know who I am anymore when I’m alone, which is normally when I know best who I am.

I feel betrayed by You, God. I feel overlooked, neglected, and forgotten. I know that these feelings aren’t truth, and they’re not objective. They feel so true, though. I thought I knew the truth about how You felt about me, and now it seems like maybe I was just kidding myself. I’m sorry for neglecting our relationship and listening to my feelings instead of You. Or at least, I know I should be sorry for it, and I’m sorry that I’m not more sorry for it. I can’t promise I’ll be ready to listen anytime soon.

I know I don’t want to stay like this forever. However, being hopeful and contented doesn’t really seem like an option anymore. It hurts too much when I’m only ever left all alone. For now, I’m just going to commit to telling You how I feel and what I’m thinking. You’re going to have to work on me if You want me to move past that.

Amen.

            Emma’s sentiments had not altered much since this entry. However, the process of having to articulate her emotions was helping her to feel a bit more stable. Writing caused her to really face what she had been feeling and unwilling to admit to herself for a long time. It also externalized the emotions enough to allow some perspective. Slowly, the formless enemy that had her in a chokehold began to take clearer shape. The voice coming through Emma’s pen did not sound like her own, nor did it sound like something that needed to be indulged, which she had been doing for a month now, possibly longer. While perhaps this voice represented a previously ignored piece of the self that Emma currently was, she could clearly see it was not part of the true, authentic self she was meant to be. This realization caused her to feel less protective of it, but she still felt helplessly trapped by it. She knew this voice did not speak from a place of truth or faith. She did not understand how it had come out of herself, or how to get rid of it.

            By Wednesday, Abby felt well enough to go out and was suffering cabin fever from so many sick days spent at home. So, the gang decided to meet at Chick-fil-A rather than bringing take-out to her. Consequently, Emma did not arrive early as usual. She was hoping this alteration would allow Abby less time to dig for details about her current status and make her own return to the social circle less awkward. Maybe she could lay low in conversation in a public place.

            Emma was surprised to see that Abby was visibly pregnant now—partly from another few weeks’ gestation and partly because her frame had grown a bit wiry due to her inability to keep much food down of late. To a casual observer, Abby was the picture of health for a small-framed, pregnant woman. But to Emma and the rest of the gang, she seemed slightly gaunt. Upon seeing her, Emma instantly felt guilty for not helping out at all during Abby’s battle with severe morning sickness. She could easily have used a couple of her leftover personal days to keep Abby company while Jackson had been at work. Poor Abby had spent most of the past several weeks alone, sick as a dog. She hadn’t asked for help or company, but Emma shouldn’t have to be asked.

            I should have been there, Emma reflected as she gave Abby a hug and felt her ribcage more prominently than usual. I am such a terrible friend! I can’t believe it never occurred to me that Abby might need my help. I’ve been so self-absorbed that I’ve been oblivious to what Abby was going through. I’ve hardly even called her other than on Saturdays. She was relieved to watch Abby polish off an entire combo meal, complete with milkshake, without missing a beat. Abby seemed to be her normal, lively self again. To Emma’s surprise, she found she truly enjoyed seeing everyone herself. She even forgot about her angst as she listened to everyone else’s updates and felt the warmth of familiar, affectionate conversation. She didn’t feel as dead and cold or lifeless here.

            By the time dinner was over, Emma felt more in touch with external reality than she had in some time. Abby hugged her again in the parking lot and assured Emma that she would meet her at the park Saturday morning. “I’m sorry I’ve abandoned you this last month,” Abby squeezed her apologetically. “I was so determined to maintain my social routine until the final stages of pregnancy, and then I go and drop out of your life before I’m even out of the first trimester.” Emma’s conscience lurched, and she rolled her eyes. It was just like Abby to feel guilty for being violently ill and inconveniencing Emma. Emma was the one who had abandoned Abby in her hour of need. She had been so dreading Abby becoming more external to her own life and yet here she had removed herself from Abby’s struggle.

            “Abs, you didn’t abandon me! You called faithfully every week. I’m just sorry I wasn’t there for you. I don’t think I realized how miserable you must have been. I should have been there for you to lean on. I’m sorry.”
            “Oh, don’t be silly. There was nothing you could have done besides watch me throw up, and that’s not a great bonding experience. I’ve so missed seeing you, though. I can’t wait to really catch up on Saturday. I promise I will be there if it kills me.”

            Emma raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t come if it kills you. I’d rather have a live phone friend than a dead walking partner.”

            “You know what I mean,” Abby laughed. “Don’t worry. Jackson’s been so protective. I had to prove I could go 72 hours without vomiting before he’d even let me come out tonight. I’ll probably have to do several trial walks around the block before he‘ll let me take on the park anyway, but I’ll convince him. I’m determined. See you then.”

            Good old Jackson, Emma thought affectionately. He was such a good husband to Abby, and she was so thankful he was there to watch over her. Okay, God, Emma prayed as she merged with traffic on her way home, I’m ready for You to start working on me. I’m not sure how You’re going to do it or how long it will take. I am pretty sure it will be painful, but I don’t care. I do not want to be so wrapped up in my own self-pity that I neglect the people who love me and deserve me to love them back. Help me somehow pull out of myself, Lord.”

            When Emma pulled into the parking lot at the park on Saturday morning, Abby was already stretching on the sidewalk. Well, that’s a first, Emma smiled to herself. Abby’s cheeks seemed a little less sunken and had their natural color back, Emma noticed.

            “You look great,” Emma complimented her as they hugged.

            “Oh my word, I feel SO much better. It’s unbelievable. Thank God for prescription medicine, right? I’ve been so sick of the house, I can’t wait to see the lake.”
            “Well, maybe we should take it easy since this is your first time in a while,” Emma cautioned.

            “I feel totally fine, honest.” Abby assured her. “Jackson and I went for a stroll yesterday, and it was great. I’ll let you know if I need to slow down. You look like you’ve lost some weight. You been picking up the pace since I disappeared?”

            “I don’t know. Maybe. I just haven’t been eating as much lately, I guess.”

            “How come? Sympathy pains?” Abby nudged Emma jokingly.

            “I wish it were that noble. No. I’ve just been lost in my own thoughts too much to be hungry.”

            “I knew something was going on with you. I could just tell, but you’re so good at dodging. I figured you weren’t ready to talk about what was on your mind.”

            “I wasn’t. I’m still not really. It’s embarrassing. Let’s talk about you and the baby instead.”

            “Oh no! I don’t think so,” Abby cut her off. “That’s practically all we’ve talked about for over a month. None of this ‘I’m too ashamed to let you know that SuperEmma doesn’t have it all together’ crap. I’m not going to respect you any less for having issues. Besides, I live for these moments when you seem as vulnerable and human as I am.”

            “Oh, Abs,” Emma rolled her eyes. “I’m not any stronger or more stable than you are. In fact, probably less so.”

            “Prove it,” Abby retorted, raising her eyebrows almost as in a dare. She stared at Emma pointedly.

            “Alright, alright, I surrender,” Emma held up her hands in resignation. “I’m warning you, though; it’s going to seem very anticlimactic after this dramatic lead-in.”

            “I’ll be the judge of that,” Abby replied as she began walking toward the start of the path through the woods. “Now, spill.” Emma followed her, hoping that there wouldn’t be many people at the park today so that she could limit her confession to just one audience.

            “Well, the short version is I’ve been having a pity party—a pretty elaborate one,” Emma began.

            “Because your best friend became unavailable sooner than expected?” Abby’s voice carried a twinge of guilt that made Emma feel even more pathetic about her recent indulgence of self-pity.

            “No. It has nothing to do with you, I promise. Besides, even a best friend can’t be responsible for someone’s happiness. No, it’s just the sulky single thing—only it’s reached some sort of spiritual proportion now.”

            “Spiritual?” Abby raised one eyebrow and watched Emma more intently as they rounded the first bend in the path.

            Emma nodded and took a deep breath. For some reason, even though she’d already prayed about this, it was hard to confess out loud to another person. “I’m mad at God, Abby. I know I shouldn’t be, but I am—like, really mad. It’s ridiculous and childish. I’m basically having a spiritual temper tantrum about my circumstances. But even when I get tired of fighting, and I want to surrender, the hurt is still there. I just can’t seem to get past it. It’s not just an objective discontentment with being single anymore. It feels personal now.” Once Emma began venting her emotions, she was usually able to do so with a fair amount of detachment and transparency, almost like a therapist describing a patient. Although the tone of analysis was in Emma’s voice, Abby suspected there was something different this time.

            “Sorry, I don’t think I’m following you. You feel personally single?”

            “No, I’m taking my singleness personally. Everyone else seems to fall in love and get married, and have families—or at least they get pursued. Me? It’s like I don’t even exist. How is it possible that in all of His vast creation, God can’t find just one man for me? I’m not asking for men to line up for me or to be the most sought-after woman in history. I just want one person, just one!, to be my person. I know this is going to sound irreverent, but I feel neglected—like God doesn’t really love me, or at least not as much as He loves other people.” Abby didn’t respond right away because she was waiting for Emma to elaborate, but Emma was feeling sheepish enough for admitting that much. She looked away into the sunlight glinting off the green leaves across the path. “I told you it was going to sound stupid.”

            “No, it’s not stupid at all.”

            Emma couldn’t help smirking. “So, you do think He loves me less than other people, then?” she asked with a sarcastic laugh.

            “Emma, cut it out.” Abby swatted her on the arm, undeterred. “You know that’s not what I meant. And it’s not true. God loves you just as much as all His other children.”

            “Yeah, I know—technically anyway. I mean, my head knows that’s supposed to be true, but my heart doesn’t seem to believe it anymore. I don’t understand why He would leave me alone if He loves me and is pleased with me, especially after I’ve been so patient. I mean, look at some of the girls in my life who have been blessed with godly husbands—” Emma was about to say “who didn’t deserve them” but stopped herself because she realized she would sound proud and judgmental.

            “—who weren’t guarding their hearts and pursuing the right kind of guys?” Abby finished for her. She could think of several mutual acquaintances who had been careless and even reckless in their dating lives before stumbling upon the right guy.

            “Yes!” Emma agreed enthusiastically, grateful to Abby for putting it in a gentler way. “Of course, I’m happy for them, and thankful for God’s grace in sparing them from some of their destructive relationship patterns. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t begrudge them their marriages or husbands. It’s just, I don’t understand why He can’t love me that way, too. I have trusted His boundaries and tried to make wise choices about guys, but I have nothing to show for it. Nothing I can point to and say, ‘See. God is pleased with my obedience. See. God loves me and His way is worth it.’ It seems almost like I’m being punished for being faithful. Maybe I don’t have a husband because I haven’t made it a necessary divine intervention.”

            “Oh come on. That’s not true. We know plenty of girls who’ve married good husbands because they did wait for them and had their priorities straight,” Abby interjected.

            “That’s true,” Emma conceded. “I’m certainly not saying I’ve been perfect, or that God owes me a husband. But, I am at least as deserving as the reckless girls, aren’t I? If they can have happy, healthy marriages by God’s grace, why can’t I? Why don’t I get to love and be loved, too? Why do I have to be alone? It doesn’t seem fair.”

            “No, it’s not fair,” Abby agreed. This was one of Abby’s best traits as a friend. She had a great ability to listen and validate one’s feelings without judgment. She didn’t try to convince you that you shouldn’t be feeling something. She simply accepted the emotion and helped you process it. “I don’t think it means God isn’t pleased with your choices or that He loves you any less, though. Maybe He’s saving you for someone even better. I’m sure He’s got the perfect guy for you waiting somewhere who’s just going to exceed all your expectations.”

            Emma shook her head slightly and chuckled somewhat cynically as she looked up at the clouds. Abby’s articulation of exactly what she felt disillusioned about caused her to lose her purely analytical tone without realizing it. “That’s what I used to think, too, but it doesn’t help anymore. I mean, doesn’t that boil down to earning a husband through suffering versus through patience? I’m exhausted, bored with myself, and desperate to share my life with someone, but God doesn’t seem to care. I don’t think I have the strength to keep waiting hopefully anymore. Especially now that it’s wearing out my faith as well. What’s going to be left of me to love by the time God does get around to me? What’s going to be left to expect from a marriage? I don’t have that many years left to start a family. And if He doesn’t intend to provide me with a husband, then why is He letting it hurt this badly? Why doesn’t He just take the desire away? It’s cruel. I feel like I’ve finally had my heartbroken for the first time—only by God instead of a guy.”

            “Have you talked to Him about this?” Abby asked gently.

            “Yes. I’ve been journaling about it. It feels good to get the feelings out in the open, I guess. I read my bible to be reminded of who God really is. I start to be comforted by what He’s done for me already. But the reality is still there—the fact that I’m painfully alone and desperately want to know what it’s like to be loved and committed to. My relationship with God used to be my anchor because I felt secure in His love. Now, He seems to have taken even that away. If He’s all I get, then I’m in big trouble.”

            Abby was amazed at the depth of struggle Emma was expressing. Emma was usually the level-headed one, counseling others to focus on truth instead of feeling. Abby reached out and gently grabbed Emma’s forearm. Emma stopped walking and turned to look her in the eyes. Abby’s eyebrows were contracted in a passionate concern that disarmed Emma instantly.

            “Emma, I had no idea—” was all that Abby was able to get out before Emma began unexpectedly tearing up. “—that you were hurting this much,” she finished. Tears began to roll down Emma’s cheeks. She quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure that no one was coming down the path from the park. She hated crying in public.            Understanding Emma’s self-consciousness, Abby clutched her wrist and pulled her through the trees to a fallen trunk near the lake’s edge where the summer foliage would afford them some privacy. She sat down on the trunk and pulled Emma down beside her, not releasing her hand. “Why didn’t you tell me you were so depressed?” she demanded, but only with the firmness of love.

            “I don’t know,” Emma sniffed, wiping her cheeks with her free hand. “I didn’t know how to tell anyone. I didn’t even tell myself for a long time, I suppose. I know what I’m saying isn’t biblical, so I shouldn’t be struggling with it so much. I guess I was hoping it would just go away if I ignored it long enough. But it isn’t going away, and I can’t ignore it anymore. It seemed to get better for a while, after my birthday, but now it’s worse than ever and I can’t seem to shake it.” She couldn’t stop tears from punctuating her speech, which was very disconcerting as she was usually able to bridle her emotions quickly whenever they ran amuck.

            Abby scooted closer and put her arms around Emma. “You’re not all alone, Emma.” Emma hugged Abby back and allowed herself to cry freely for a minute. She felt embarrassed for being so emotional, but her relief and the comfort of being held outweighed her pride. “I know you’re more alone than I am, and I guess I don’t really know what it’s like for you. But you don’t have to be alone or go through it alone. Maybe it’s been so difficult because you’ve been trying to carry it all by yourself.”

            Emma sat up straight and wiped her cheeks free of tears, regaining some of her composure. “It doesn’t seem like I have much choice. I can’t very well be a puddle of tears all the time with people. There aren’t really any people I’m close enough with to share this. Normally, I would lean on my parents for support, but I can’t even do that because it would kill them if they knew how lonely I was. I don’t really want to share it with people at church or work because I don’t want to be known as the pathetic, single girl. I already feel like people look at me pityingly at church and I’ve only just managed to escape them setting me up with some truly awful bachelors just because they’re available.”

            Abby laughed, remembering the stories of two horribly awkward blind dates Emma had been unwittingly tricked into. Emma snickered a little herself.  “Okay, so maybe you should be very discerning about who you open up to, but there must be somebody you trust to not go all yenta on you.”

            “I guess there are a couple. I just don’t want our whole relationship to turn into a discussion about my singleness. And, honestly, it’s an awkward burden to share with anyone. They can’t fix it, but they’ll definitely try! And there’s not really anything they can do to make me feel better about it. So, it seems unfair to burden them with the knowledge that I’m struggling with something they can’t really offer assistance with. Or they’ll just start talking about how much they miss being single (in college) and how hard marriage is—which is not helpful at all. That’s what makes this loneliness so horrible—it isolates me even further than I already feel isolated.”

            Abby could tell Emma wasn’t ready to bend on this point yet, so she wisely decided to stop pushing it. “Well, you’ve told me. And you can talk to me whenever you need to about it. I promise I won’t set you up with anyone or put you up on e-harmony without your knowledge or anything. I’ll just pray for you and that God would provide a husband for you in His time. And I’ll listen when you need someone to vent to. Okay?”

            “Thanks,” Emma replied somewhat flatly. In her head, she was thinking whenever I need to talk and Jackson’s not around, or the baby isn’t crying, or there’s no event going on at church….What about the nights when I can’t face coming home to an empty house? She made eye contact with Abby and smiled, though. She did have to admit that she felt much better than she did this morning. “Do I look absolutely ghastly or am I presentable enough to continue our walk?”
            “You look fine, just a little pinkish, but no one will notice.”

            “Thanks for letting me dump on you.”
            “Anytime. It’s so nice to focus on something other than nausea or prenatal vitamins for a change.”

            “So, let’s talk about you now. I’m all talked out.”

            Abby laughed as they walked back towards the trail. “Well, let’s see. Andrew’s working on the art for that restaurant downtown. He wants to have a family dinner there to celebrate once it gets displayed.”

            “Oh, yeah. You’re going to have to fill me in on that again. He told me about it that night you announced your pregnancy, but I was too busy trying to figure out what you were hiding from me, and I missed the whole thing.”

            “I’m not surprised,” Abby rolled her eyes and smiled. “You should have gone for a career as a detective.” She proceeded to explain Andrew’s connection to the owners and the general design he had planned as they continued their walk.