Proverbs 30:18–19
“There are three things that are too wonderful for me, four that I do not understand: … the way of a man with a young woman.”
Why This Verse Strikes Me
This verse speaks of three things that are too wonderful to comprehend, and a fourth that remains a mystery. That final one—the way of a man with a young woman—has always stayed with me. I remember the first time I read it. When I reached that last line, I felt profoundly seen.
Nothing baffles me more than how people fall in love. How strangers become my person. How glances turn into intimacy. For so long, I have felt like an outsider looking in—like I was uninvited to a party I could only observe through the window. Love has always amazed me, and for years I assumed it would simply happen to me without any real effort on my part.
But year after year, I am learning that part of the story is me.
Can I Be Transparent Right Now?
If I am honest, it is easier to live in fantasy than in reality. It is easier to listen to a full album like Olivia Dean’s The Art of Loving than to actually walk out the process of meeting the love of my life.
Why?
Because I am scared to be seen.
No—that’s not quite it. I am scared to be seen and rejected. That is the fear. Yet, if I am never seen, I can never be loved.
This grief letter was sparked by something seemingly small: I had a crush. I was excited to see him. I expected him to do something. When he finally asked me somewhere last week, I said I didn’t trust him enough to go with him.
It sounds crazy—I know.
But the truth is, I wasn’t sure about him. We flirted, but that was it. And sometimes, flirting is all I know how to do. I get excited about what I imagine or perceive, and when it doesn’t materialize, I am crushed.
That’s when I realized something sobering: I am not living in reality.
The reality of dating is scary for me.
Dating Revealing Me to Me
This year, I started dating again after a two-year hiatus that began in 2023. Looking back, my dating habits came from a broken place. I didn’t date in alignment with who I truly was.
Most of my relationships were short-term, often with men who didn’t share my faith. Why? Because I knew I would never marry someone outside of my faith—so I always ended it. That kind of thinking was rooted in control, and if I’m honest, it was toxic.
Those habits led nowhere, so I stopped dating altogether. I reached a point where I didn’t even want to try. And while this year didn’t start with some dramatic shift, I slowly began to realize that dating itself wasn’t the issue—I was.
Earlier this year, I met a random Christian man at the bank. No apps. No online profiles. Just real life. He shared my faith, and it felt divine. I had never experienced anything like that before. Since then, I have met multiple Christian men in unexpected ways.
That particular dating experience didn’t last, but it stirred something in me. It made me pray and ask God, Are You inviting me to date again?
Here’s the thing: dating wasn’t the solution—it was the mirror. That experience revealed what was happening inside of me. It was the first time in a long while that I felt hopeful. The first time I felt excited. I wanted to do it the “right way.”
And I did.
When I ended it, it wasn’t from fear—it was from truth.
That courage pushed me back into the dating world. While I had grown, some old habits still lingered. I returned to the apps and found myself talking to men who technically checked the “Christian” box, but lacked real depth in their faith. I asked probing questions, but often received shallow answers.
Some men I ran from. Others I ran toward.
It felt good to feel seen again. To be wanted. To be taken on dates. If I’m honest, sometimes all I really wanted was to be held.
Those desires aren’t wrong—but they led me to tolerate men who weren’t truly aligned with me. The one boundary I consistently kept was this: I never allowed things to go beyond two or three dates.
The last man I went out with had all the outward qualities I once prayed for—stable career, well-traveled, responsible, kind, thoughtful. He paid for the date. He desired me.
But he didn’t share my faith.
And still, I loved the way he wanted me. As silly as it sounds, he made me feel like a woman.
That’s when it hit me: how easily I could settle simply because someone made me feel desired. And that was selfish of me too. I was dating to scratch an itch, not to truly know someone.
Sitting With the Truth
As I write, I’m discovering what’s really inside of me. Dating with intention is terrifying. Walking toward what I want—even naming it—feels foreign.
I’ve blamed God. I’ve blamed myself. But I hadn’t truly sat with the pain of staying the same—of hiding my desires and letting fear keep me from the very things I long for.
I’m not sure why this one crush unraveled me, but it felt like the final straw. I am tired of being this version of me—so afraid to fail, so afraid to hope, so afraid to feel only to be disappointed.
But isn’t this the human experience?
Isn’t love worth the risk?
They say we don’t change until the pain of staying the same outweighs the pain of change.
I think it finally did.
Actions Speak Louder Than Words
So what now?
These words mean nothing if no action follows. I will live the same life if I keep choosing the same patterns.
My challenge for 2026 is simple: to date to fail.
That means setting goals for first dates. Showing up. Trying. Being open—unless, of course, I meet someone wonderful along the way.
I quit too easily. I want to try differently.
This is my first step—writing it down.
2026 will be the year I date with wisdom, intention, and courage instead of fear. Maybe that will become a theme I write about more next year. Maybe I’ll even share it publicly for accountability.
For now, this is my confession:
I am no longer believing the lie that love won’t work for me.
Faith is all I need—because faith without works is dead.
My Declaration
I believe; Lord, help my unbelief.
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to You. I commit my dating journey to You, Lord, trusting that You will act on my behalf according to Your perfect will.
Please blow my mind with the above-and-beyond abundance You have for me. Teach me to find joy in the process.
And in due time—may my husband find me.
journeytonewplaces 
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