Joanna Bome Kure

Dear Future Mr Man,

The fact that I am writing this is particularly funny because in my mind, the world should have ended long before I had fully entered into the ‘marriageable age’. However, the world has not come to an end. And I’m right now living in equanimity: the moon is out, there’s light in my house, I have water to drink, and I have not been caught up in the clouds with the saints to meet Jesus.

Marriage is still an ‘if’ in my prayers. A line in one of my prayers reads, “I know I am currently a prospectless spinster, who is partially desirous of marriage. Yet, it does not preclude me from praying for my spouse”. I still think marriage would always be an ‘if’ until it materialises because anything could happen. I mean, I could die, and that’s the end. I do not intend to sound morbid, but I guess I am still trying to come to terms with this stage of my life. Or maybe I’m just too conscious of the impermanence of life here.

I used to be slightly upset that my old friends and acquaintances were folding. Slightly upset because that was not the plan. However, over the last couple of years, I have received invitations to weddings, bridal showers and participated in some of the brouhaha of weddings. In such instances, I always wondered what happened to all the people I used to play around the see-saw with? Why were they entering this thing with such eagerness? And at what point did we reach a consensus to change course? Yet, the irony is that I have started to fold too. I guess the changes happening are a result of my praying for you.

I pray for you from time to time. I pray to God to give you strength, wisdom and grace. Sometimes, I pray for you based on how I feel. If my day was stressful, I hoped in prayer that you did not endure a stressful day too, and asked God to help you through whatever challenges you faced.  However, my prayers are still largely ‘if’ prayers, because everything is in God’s hands. Jesus might come before I get the chance to tell you, ‘I do’, and you know there is no marriage in Heaven.

I have grown from unabashed disregard to ambivalence. Sometimes, I really see the point and start to feel my heart move or rise strangely. It makes me want to leap in joy as I anticipate what being ‘in love’ and having one’s own person feels like. In those moments, my eyes do not roll at the cheesiness that seeps into my social media feed. I blush and hope. I must confess that sometimes, my change of heart is fueled by my desire to spend your money because adulting is nerve-racking and going it alone can be lonely. Theologically, I know marriage is a good thing that points forward to Christ and the Church. I know it is a moulding institution that shapes one to be increasingly like Christ, but there’s a distance between what I know in my head and what I mostly feel in my heart.

There are times when the entire concept is simply hilarious. Some of the joys of my adult life have been rediscovering some of the thrills of childhood and young adulthood. I have not fully come to terms with the fact that I am a whole adult who has spent three decades on earth. What is that? I still chuckle whenever my mum or someone prays for me to get married. Although mum’s prayers tend to sound existential, that is funny in itself. Some other times, though, it feels to me like utter nonsense, because I realise that I do not have it in me to start the work of being concerned about someone else and deeply care about their life.

I’m sorry that it sounds rather harsh; nonetheless, this is where I am now: in a hall of conflicting emotions fighting for my full attention. But I guess in the end, it is really about God’s will and the work He is doing in you and me. Hopefully, we get to meet and do life together before the “new Jerusalem coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband,” materialises (see Revelation chapter twenty-one verse two). It is no mean feat that I have brought myself to even address you, the unseen potential Mr, whoever you are. You were probably expecting a sickly-sweet sort of letter. I’m sorry, this is not it.

Please pray for me, because it seems to me that I need more prayers than you do. Until we meet (if we meet), stay close to the heart of Jesus and continually do His will.

J.