It was quite the weekend for my friends.
On Friday, my cousin asked his girlfriend’s father for permission to tie the knot. They’ll be married within the year.
On Saturday evening, my roommate asked his girlfriend to marry him. They’re walking down the aisle in eight months. As we were congratulating him, another friend mentioned he just started ring shopping and was looking at Saturdays in July.
Our attention turned from the game to more of this rare, exciting talk. We piled on questions as my third roommate updated us on his two-year strong relationship, admitting that marriage was in the cards.
Yes, quite the weekend.
Meanwhile, this year the most eventful thing I’ve encountered relationally has been an old high school friend telling me her dreams concerning our wedding. It was the first I’d heard about it. I found out she’s conveyed similar sentiments using similar means to not one other guy, but two.
So yes, I’m single for the foreseeable future. And it might sound like I’m not happy for my friends. But actually, I really am. I’m beyond excited for them.
And it’s not just because we’re all close and I have to say that or because I’m a guy and “not affected by that stuff.”
I’ve been with my roommates for years. We leave each other without toilet paper, have one another’s pet peeves down to an art form, and raid forgotten leftovers despite notes requesting we refrain.
But despite all the pleasantries, I’ve also been with these guys through really hard times, seeing their relationships fall apart and helping them deal with dating hardships out of their control. I’ve witnessed the good and the bad.
And I think that’s what I’ve been missing for a long time. My news feed these days seems to be equal parts Pinterest wedding planning party and “cute” proposal videos with an occasional dash of excelling relationship statuses. But I realized I’ve only been tuning in for the climax of the story.
My roommate who just got engaged? He had to break up with his fiancée last year because of cultural ignorance on behalf of her family. He spent months praying about things and trying to figure out what to do. It was painful.
But his dedication was lasting.
More often than not the fairytale highlights shared on social media are marked with overemphasis while the hardships and dedication required to graduate to that coveted, blissful stage are underemphasized (if recognized at all).
Naturally, this makes sense. People are excited to share their joys and often trials are kept private.
But it gives you and me a biased view as an audience, resulting in a spirit of frustrated questioning.
“What about me, God?”
I’ve just been expecting something to fall out of the sky from Him, because that seems to be what’s happening with all my friends online.
That friend of mine who’s happily dating and looking at Saturdays in July? He spent years prior to his relationship praying for her as she endured an abusive boyfriend. His patience and faith were tested and tried before things turned around.
I’ve been forgetting to take a step back and look at the big picture.
I recently learned about positive and negative space in paintings in an arts class.
The positive space is what draws our attention and captures us. It’s engaging, but it can’t be glorified without the backdrop of the negative space. Sure, the negative space isn’t always pretty or nearly as exciting. But it’s vital to enjoying the positive.
I think that’s why I can be filled with joy for my friends. If I just focus on what’s positive in their life, I become bitter as I compare my life to theirs, feeling robbed and inadequate. But against the setting of their trials and difficulties, I become incredibly excited for them because I get to see the reward of their faithfulness.
So when I scroll though my feed next time, I’ll try and remember I’m only witnessing the climax of the story. And maybe I’ll have a greater appreciation for the negative space as I rejoice in the positive.
Flickr photo (cc) by Sivaz
