It was all over TikTok and Instagram, known as the church “where the hot guys go.”

Yes. You read that correctly.

A Jewish matchmaker, whose work I absolutely admire and who has done so much to bring singles together, visited my NYC church. And what actually moved me most about her visit had nothing to do with dating.

The service that day was about healing.

She watched people lay hands on one another and pray for physical, emotional, and spiritual healing. She was moved to tears.

And honestly, so was I thinking about her experience at church.

Because this is such a beautiful picture of the Body of Christ.

We show up for one another. We pray for one another. We carry one another. And where two or three gather in His name, He is there.

Okay, returning from my pivot.

I made the mistake (or maybe it wasn’t a mistake) of looking at the comments.

And so many of the comments were from single people who actually go to my church.

Underneath the jokes, I could hear something else.

Disappointment.

Sadness.

Cynicism.

“I go to this church and the dating culture is broken.”

That made me so sad.

Because I know these people.

I know incredible single women. Women who are ABOVE AND BEYOND. I could write essays about their character, beauty, faithfulness, intelligence, depth, calling, and why someone would be incredibly blessed to marry them.

I know good men too.

And yet, somehow, it feels like there hasn’t been movement.

So I’ve been ruminating on a question:

What happened to dating?

Did 2020 change us?

I’ve been thinking a lot about what dating was like before 2020.

Did the pandemic alter the way we relate to one another more than we realize?

We lived through a global pandemic where the world went into lockdown. Our lives moved onto screens. Digital movements exploded. Algorithms increasingly began determining what we saw, what we consumed, what we bought, what we desired, and even who we met.

Our phones became extensions of us.

Our attention went there.

Our focus went there.

Our relationships went there.

Dating apps existed long before 2020. I remember when eHarmony was the thing. But something accelerated around the pandemic. Hinge, Bumble, and the whole swipe culture became an even more normal part of how people met.

And I wonder what that did to us.

I wonder if we have allowed an algorithm to disciple the way we date.

Because suddenly a human being can become a picture.

Swipe.

No.

Swipe.

Maybe.

Swipe.

Too short.

Swipe.

Not my type.

Swipe.

And somehow, from a handful of photos and prompts, we decide whether someone is attractive enough, interesting enough, successful enough, compatible enough, spiritual enough.

A picture is somehow supposed to tell us someone’s character in a thousand words.

But it can’t.

You can’t swipe through someone’s character.

You can’t see faithfulness in a photograph.

You can’t see how someone treats their mother.

You can’t see whether they show up when a friend is suffering.

You can’t see humility.

You can’t see how someone repents.

You can’t see how they serve when nobody is watching.

You can’t see how they love Jesus when life falls apart.

So I keep wondering:

What happened to meeting organically?

At church.

At a birthday party.

After a service.

At a picnic.

Through friends.

At someone’s dinner table.

What happened to simply noticing someone across the room and having the courage to go talk to them?

And maybe the bigger question is:

Has culture shaped us more than we realize?

And if it has...

How do we shape it back?

This past weekend reminded me what marriage actually is.

This past weekend, Ben and I had the enormous honor of officiating the wedding of one of our spiritual daughters and sons.

We were moved to tears.

The presence of God was so thick in the room.

It was holy.

The Gospel was heard.

The Gospel was preached.

And we remembered again that marriage is a prophetic picture of what the Gospel is all about.

It’s about dying.

It’s about serving.

It’s about going low.

It’s about beautifying one another.

It’s about becoming less selfish.

It’s about helping another person become more holy and more like Christ.

It’s not rivalry.

It’s partnership.

It’s friendship.

It’s union with the Lord and union with one another.

Something I said during the wedding was that, as believers, we are called to be countercultural.

We live in a culture where marriage can become transactional.

Conditional.

Disposable.

Defined by happiness and comfort rather than sacrifice and covenant.

But then we look at Jesus.

We look at the Cross.

And suddenly we get a completely different picture of love.

As believers, we’re meant to change the atmosphere.

We’re meant to show the world another way.

We’re meant to reclaim what marriage was always meant to be.

Marriage and dating were meant to glorify God.

They were meant to become places where the Kingdom of God is revealed.

Marriage is a training ground for character.

A school of forgiveness.

A school of humility.

A school of learning how to become powerful together instead of competing with one another.

A place where you learn partnership with Jesus and partnership with another person.

So I have to ask:

If we’re meant to be countercultural, what are we actually doing to change the culture?

Men, can we talk?

Are you not asking a woman out because you’re afraid?

Afraid she will reject you?

Afraid people will talk?

Afraid someone will misunderstand your intentions?

Afraid that if it doesn’t work out, somehow your reputation will be damaged?

When did asking a woman on one date become so high stakes?

It’s a date.

You’re not marrying her.

You’re not promising her anything.

You’re getting to know another human being.

Maybe you like her. Maybe after two dates you realize you don’t.

That’s okay.

But if fear has crippled you from ever taking a risk, I want to lovingly challenge you:

Get help.

Get healthy.

Get free.

Ask the Lord where you’ve partnered with fear.

Because fear cannot be the thing making your decisions.

And please stop waiting for a woman who doesn’t exist.

The perfect woman does not exist.

Unlimited options are an illusion.

At some point you have to stop searching for an imaginary person and actually get to know the human being standing in front of you.

And ladies, can we talk too?

What happened to us?

Why have so many of us become cynical?

Why are we so angry?

Why have some of us become convinced that there are no good men left?

And listen, I know there is real disappointment here.

There is space for sadness.

There is space for grief.

There is space to wrestle with God and say:

Lord, when is it going to be my turn?

But grief and cynicism are not the same thing.

I recently came across an article with a title essentially declaring that the “good man shortage” has gotten exponentially worse.

And something in me refuses to agree with that narrative.

Because I know men.

I have brothers in Christ.

I am part of the Church.

I love the Church.

I love what the Holy Spirit is doing among believers.

And I refuse to participate in this constant accusatory narrative that good men simply don’t exist.

There are good men.

Are there immature men? Absolutely.

Are there passive men? Yes.

Are there wounded men who need healing? Of course.

But women have our stuff too.

I hear women complain that men are too picky, and then in the next breath ask me:

“Can you set me up?”

Absolutely.

“Can I see his Instagram?”

Girl.

Do you see what we’re doing?

We accuse men of being too picky while sometimes holding enormous, unrealistic standards ourselves.

What if you gave someone a chance?

Not because you owe anyone attraction.

Not because standards are bad.

Not because discernment doesn’t matter.

But because maybe a person’s Instagram account isn’t enough information to decide whether they are worthy of sitting across from you over coffee.

We need to become thermostats again.

There’s an analogy I love.

A thermometer tells you the temperature of the room.

A thermostat changes it.

I think Christians are supposed to be thermostats.

We don’t simply walk into the culture, measure its temperature, and then conform to it.

We change the atmosphere.

We are in the world, but we are not meant to be shaped by everything in it.

And I wonder if some of the narratives of modern dating have gotten inside of us more than we realize.

Disillusionment.

Cynicism.

Anger.

Entitlement.

Fear.

Disappointment.

Hopelessness.

Maybe those things have slowly hardened our hearts.

Maybe being in the world has started shaping the way we think, the way we feel, the way we make decisions, and most importantly, the way we view one another.

So maybe before we complain about dating culture, we need a heart check.

Lord, where do I need to repent for partnering with condemnation?

Where have I partnered with self-righteousness?

Entitlement?

Fear?

Where do I need to renounce pride?

Cynicism?

Hopelessness?

Laziness?

Who do I need to forgive?

Where have I allowed disappointment to become an accusation against You?

Where have I started believing that because I am not married, You are somehow not good?

Where have I allowed an unfulfilled desire to become evidence that You are withholding from me?

Because He is still a good Father.

Even in the waiting.

Even in the disappointment.

Even when the desire of your heart has not happened yet.

And maybe changing dating culture doesn’t begin with fixing all the men.

Or fixing all the women.

Or deleting every dating app.

Maybe it begins much closer to home.

Lord, start with me.

Heal what has become cynical in me.

Expose where fear has been leading me.

Soften what disappointment has hardened.

Teach me to see my brothers and sisters the way You see them.

Give me courage to take healthy risks.

Give me wisdom to choose well.

And make me someone who changes the atmosphere instead of simply complaining about the temperature.

Because culture is going to disciple us if we let it.

But we are the Church.

Maybe it’s time we shape the culture back.

The most wonderful, yet also the most revealing and humbling, ministry.

I have countless conversations with people who express a deep desire to date and find a partner. And I think that if we are going to date well, we need a better understanding and theology of marriage first.

A few things to level-set before we dive in, because you know I love nuance and looking at things from different angles.

Marriage is not always guaranteed.

Dating does not necessarily lead to marriage.

Dating can be a tool of discipleship, discovery, and refinement.

And there is no such thing as “the one.” There is the beautiful and weighty gift God has given us to choose.

Be careful with spiritual language.

I live in New York City, surrounded by people who genuinely love Jesus. It is one of my favorite things about living here. I get to be part of a community that is deeply hungry for God, values His presence, and genuinely desires to hear His voice.

But I’ve also noticed something.

Sometimes we can use hyper-spiritual language around dating.

“I know God told me.”

“The Lord said this is my spouse.”

“I have complete peace.”

Maybe.

But... maybe not.

I absolutely believe God speaks.

I also believe that sometimes our deepest desires can become so loud that they begin to sound like the voice of God.

Our hearts can long for something so deeply that, without realizing it, we start interpreting every open door, every coincidence, or every feeling as confirmation.

This is why discernment matters so much.

Scripture tells us to test the spirits (1 John 4:1), seek wisdom (James 1:5), and make plans with many counselors (Proverbs 15:22). God never asks us to leave discernment behind simply because we have strong feelings.

Ask God for discernment.

Surround yourself with people who carry the gift of discernment.

Not just people who affirm everything you feel, but people who love you enough to tell you what you might not want to hear.

People who are willing to ask hard questions.

People who aren’t impressed by emotional certainty.

People who care more about God’s will than your comfort.

That kind of community is a gift.

Marriage is a prophetic picture

Marriage is a prophetic picture of Jesus and His gospel.

Jesus laying His life down for His bride.

Washing His bride with the water of His Word.

The unbreakable covenant of intimacy.

Unconditional love.

Marriage is not convenience.

It is not a status that gives you the liberty to continue living independently and doing whatever the heck you want.

There are now two of you.

Mutual submission.

Shared mission.

The Hebrew behind Genesis 2:18 changes everything

“The Lord God said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him.’”

This verse has often been misunderstood, but a closer look at the Hebrew reveals something far richer.

The word translated as “helper” is ezer in Hebrew.

It does not mean personal assistant, subordinate, or someone of lesser value. In fact, throughout the Old Testament, ezer is often used to describe God Himself.

Psalm 33:20 says:

“He is our help and our shield.”

Psalm 70:5 says:

“You are my help and my deliverer.”

In Deuteronomy 33:29, God is described as Israel’s ezer.

If God can be called an ezer, then this is a word that carries enormous weight. It communicates strength, rescue, support, and life-giving partnership.

The phrase “fit for him” comes from the Hebrew kenegdo, which can mean:

Corresponding to him.

Facing him.

An equal counterpart.

One who stands opposite him.

The picture is of someone who complements him as his equal in dignity, created to stand face-to-face with him in partnership.

Marriage was never designed around hierarchy as its primary theme. It was designed around shared mission.

Together, Adam and Eve would bear God’s image.

Together, they would steward creation.

Together, they would cultivate the garden.

Together, they would reflect God’s relational nature.

Marriage is about God bringing two allies together to bring heaven to earth, to be vessels of His Kingdom, and to expand, steward, help, and collaborate.

In my own marriage, Ben and I look at God as the One in charge. We submit to His leadership and obey Him. From that place, we partner and collaborate with each other.

What Augustine believed marriage was for

There is a profound mystery and prophetic meaning to marriage.

Many of the early Church Fathers understood this, and many of them were also called to celibacy.

Saint Augustine, one of the most influential theologians on marriage in Western Christianity, lived a complicated life before eventually embracing celibacy. Yet he gave us one of the most enduring frameworks for understanding what marriage is for, built around three words.

Proles: Children

Marriage is naturally ordered toward welcoming and raising children in the faith.

Of course, many couples experience infertility or circumstances outside their control.

But I also think we need to ask: What does it look like to become spiritual mothers and fathers?

What does it look like to mentor, challenge, model a godly example, and invest in younger generations?

Augustine wrote:

“The first natural bond of human society is man and wife.”

Fides: Faithfulness

Marriage is exclusive, faithful, and sexually exclusive.

Faithfulness creates a safe covenant where husband and wife belong fully to one another.

Faithfulness creates safety not just for the two individuals but as the fabric of an entire community.

Sacramentum: The Covenant

Marriage is permanent because it reflects Christ’s unbreakable covenant with the Church.

Marriage is a covenant.

In sickness and in health.

For richer or poorer.

Not, “I will walk away when this is no longer convenient for me.”

This is one of Augustine’s greatest contributions. Marriage is not simply a contract. It is a sacred sign pointing to something eternal.

Augustine did not believe marriage existed primarily to make people happy.

He believed it helped people become holy.

The daily practices of forgiveness, patience, self-denial, generosity, and faithfulness shape us into the image of Christ.

He described marriage as:

“A faithful union of one man and one woman.”

Marriage is companionship rooted in genuine affection, covenant, and unity.

Marriage will not save you from loneliness

Marriage will not relieve you of loneliness. Only God can do that.

He must be your everything.

I see people trying to get needs met in a spouse, needs like identity, worth, purpose, and belonging. That becomes a painful and impossible weight to place on another person.

Only Jesus can be the source of your identity and value.

A spouse adds to what God has already given you.

Ben and I have an analogy for this.

Marriage is like the sugar added to water and lemon juice. God is the One who fills and sustains us. Marriage can make life sweeter, but it was never meant to become the source of our lives.

Marriage is the overflow of something God has already given us.

For the person who is still waiting

And if you are reading this with a broken heart, having been part of the Church for a long time, and another conversation about marriage feels like salt on a wound, I hear you.

I am with you in the waiting room, waiting for desires of my own to be fulfilled.

I know this is a “yes, and” situation.

Yes, we hope.

And yes, we grieve.

Both are allowed.

I simply want to paint a vision of what marriage is and what it was always intended to be.

Our culture promotes an obsessive dating culture built around “me” getting what I want, often without commitment.

But I want to give you the why behind dating.

Dating should point us toward marriage.

And in order to think clearly about marriage, we first need a vision of what marriage was designed to be from the very beginning.

Not simply a relationship that makes us happy.

Not a status.

Not a cure for loneliness.

Marriage is covenant.

Marriage is shared mission.

Marriage is two allies coming together under the leadership of God.

Marriage is a prophetic picture of Jesus and His love for His Church.

My husband and I just celebrated a big milestone: our 15th wedding anniversary. Our love story has been filled with victory, humbling moments, bruises on our knees from the times we fall on our faces and cry out to Abba Father, repentance, forgiveness. Repeat. We got married young, 23 and 24, very in love and without much to our name except a whole lot of faith to say yes to the Lord and take the courageous step into marriage. So our time in Japan is an act of celebratory defiance as we say yes to another year together.

Today I want to share some practical ways we can restore our souls. These are rhythms that have helped Ben and I stay above water and encouraged in stormy seasons, emotionally and spiritually. In times when we feel exhausted and are hanging on the last thread of faith we have.

1. We feast in the presence of our enemies.

Time and time again, in lack and in seasons of abundance, when we receive bad news, when we celebrate a victory, when we are in the middle of a trial, we feast. This is a prophetic act we have built into the culture of our marriage, drawn from Psalm 23. It is an act of warfare against the enemy and a declaration of rest, a surrender of control that says: Lord, you be the Lord. I love how Eugene Peterson puts it in The Message translation:

“You serve me a six-course dinner right in front of my enemies. You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing.” — Psalm 23:5 (MSG)

Last week was filled with intense warfare for us. Unexpected things happened outside of our control and accusation felt heavy. One night I feasted with a friend over pho and spring rolls as tears ran down my face. The next day our small group gathered and we made it a point to feast together in the presence of our enemies, burgers and fries, bringing our different battles to the table with our people. There is something holy about that.

2. A soul inventory of consecration.

I come before Jesus and ask: Is there any sinful way you are inviting me into repentance? Is there anyone I need to forgive? Is there offense or bitterness I need to release? Are there burdens I am carrying that do not belong to me, that I need to lay at the foot of the cross? Are there lies I am believing about myself or about God’s character that I need to crucify? And then I replace them with truth. A word from Scripture, or His reverberating voice that confronts the lies and imprints truth back into my spirit.

3. Friendship is crucial.

We invite people in to speak truth over us, call us higher, call us back into our belovedness, and pray with us and for us. I have a tiny inner circle of women I trust with my heart and my life. These women fight battles with me and alongside me. They call me higher, cry with me, hold my arms up in spirit, and receive my confession with grace when I need to repent. They make a lot of room for my mess. Shoutout to my girls, my board of directors: Arianna, Olivia, Jessalyn, and Hev. What would I do without these black belt ninjas in spirit?

As a high extrovert who genuinely thrives on people, I have learned that I only need a very few friends to continue walking courageously. In my early twenties I had what seemed like a lot of friends and yet I felt deeply lonely because none of them really knew me. In my late thirties I have learned to run alongside a few people who actually know me and sustain my life. Friendship for us is real life: crying together, being radically honest, having fun, doing conflict well, laughing, slumber parties, sitting in silence together without needing to fill the space.

4. Pray for your enemies.

This does not mean we have enemies in the dramatic sense. I do not think people are walking around intentionally plotting against you. But a practice Ben and I return to daily is blessing those who gossip or slander us. It has been a powerful weapon of warfare.

There is also something David modeled throughout Samuel and the Psalms: before going into battle, he would strengthen himself in the Lord. Get into your prayer closet. Get on your face and cry out: Come, Holy Spirit. Above every other tool we have, we elevate this one. Our dependence, intimacy, and communication with Jesus. Taking everything to His presence. He is the most reliable friend we have, and He knows warfare well.

Journaling Prompts to Strengthen Your Soul

Lord, what am I trying to control? What outcome am I most afraid of right now, and what would it mean if that happened? Where am I expending energy trying to manage something that is not mine to manage? What would I feel if I genuinely let this go: relief, grief, fear? What does that tell me?

Where is my soul not at rest? Where do I feel tightness, dread, or low-grade anxiety when I slow down enough to notice? Is this restlessness new, or has it been quietly here for a while? What am I avoiding by staying busy?

Jesus, where are you moving? What are you speaking? What have I noticed lately that felt like more than coincidence: a conversation, a verse, a moment of unexpected peace? Where have I seen something shift that I did not engineer? What keeps returning to my mind that I have not paid attention to yet?

Lord, is there a word you want me to remember? What is one true thing about who God is that I need today? How does He see me right now, not how I fear He sees me, but what I actually believe to be true? What has He done before in my life that I am forgetting to draw on right now?

If you are walking through an intense season of warfare, accusation, or discouragement, I hope this meets you right where you are.

Ale

Summer is here. The humidity is in the air, the atmosphere in NYC feels electric, and the Knicks are having a grand moment. Very Andie Anderson and Ben from How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, one of my all time favorite movies.

Lately I have been pondering the theme of cynicism in love and relationships. As a dating expert and observer of people, I find myself in conversations with both men and women where there is often a tinge of cynicism in the way they refer to each other or to dating. Sometimes it sounds like frustration at a party: “all men are the same.” Other times I have heard men say they cannot date someone their age because they carry too much baggage. It shows up in different ways, but the undertone is the same.

So what is cynicism, exactly? It is the belief or attitude that people are fundamentally self-interested, that their motives and actions are driven primarily by selfishness, greed, or hidden agendas rather than genuine goodness. But in my view, cynicism is really a reaction. It is self-protection born out of insecurity, pride, and past disappointment. We become cynical to defend the arguments in our minds and hearts that have kept us feeling safe and in control.

The research backs this up. I read an article from the Stanford Report by psychologist Jamil Zaki, author of Hope for Cynics: The Surprising Science of Human Goodness. He argues that cynical perceptions are often not rooted in reality at all, and that cynicism is both harmful and damaging to us personally and to society as a whole.

In dating, cynicism keeps us guarded and away from the very thing that counters it, which is hope. It keeps us living inside illusions created from fear and past hurt. And while those hurts are valid, a breakup that rocked you to your core, a rejection that left a label on you that now feels like part of your identity, these things can slowly prevent us from taking the risk of hoping again. A broken heart deserves to be honored. But it was never meant to become a permanent residence.

Hope is not passive. It is not naive optimism or spiritual bypassing. Hope is a weapon of war. It is a posture of standing firm in something that feels vulnerable and uncertain. In our daily lives we face discouragement, impatience, cynicism, and lies. There are days when the fight feels too exhausting or too costly. But what would it look like to confront those things with the deep roar of our inner strength and the weapon called hope? Because not hoping might feel safer, but it slowly kills the soul.

“Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of faith...” This is one of the most vivid pictures of dangerous, courageous hope. Many of us might find ourselves too tired to go to war right now, and that is okay. Maybe you just experienced another rejection. Maybe the person you really wanted to marry broke up with you. Maybe no one asked for your number, or you had the courage to ask someone out and they declined. Maybe you were misunderstood again by people you love. But here is Jesus’s invitation anyway: have the courage to hold the weapon of hope. And if that is all you have got, that is resilient hope.

“I’ve kept my feet on the ground, I’ve cultivated a quiet heart. Like a baby content in its mother’s arms, my soul is a baby content. Wait, Israel, for God. Wait with hope. Hope now; hope always!” — Psalm 131:2-3 (MSG)

Perhaps the hope we are being invited into is simply to be content in our Father’s arms and to wait with hope. There is something sacred about exchanging the despair of a waiting season for hopeful waiting. Maybe that is the very battleground where God is inviting us to take ground. And maybe it begins with a simple daily heart check, asking Jesus three questions:

• Where do I believe the lie that I am overlooked, unseen, and not accepted?

• What is Jesus’s voice and truth saying against those lies?

• Do I need to release unforgiveness, offense, or pain?

Maybe the weapon of hope looks like walking into a room, a party, a date, knowing your belovedness before your Father. Knowing you are enough. Feeling at peace in your own skin without having to wall up. Two weeks ago there was an incredible sermon at my church on freedom from rejection. One of the things that landed on me was this: the spirit of adoption is knowing in the depths of who you are that you are loved and accepted by your Father. Many of us, out of survival, have learned to live like orphans instead. Harboring jealousy over the couple that seems happy, over the girl who always gets asked out. Believing the narrative that says I am not seen, I will never find my person, it is better to be cynical because at least that feels like control.

I love the story of the prodigal son, but the character I want to sit with today is the older brother. Jealous, cynical, feeling overlooked, he goes to his father and asks what about me? And the father says: “My son, I am always with you, and everything I have is yours.” I want to remind you of that truth today. God’s presence has not left your sight. Everything He has is yours. You are an heir to His kingdom, a daughter and a son who belongs. Not an orphan grasping at entitlement, but a child who can ask the Father for the gift of marriage, knowing it is exactly that: a gift. Unmerited grace. Not something you are owed, and not something that gives you the right to stay bitter in the not yet.

Maybe the bravest thing you do this week is not asking someone out. Maybe the bravest thing you do is choose hope again.

Resources For Your Week

If you want to go deeper on what we talked about today, I am leaving these here for you.

🎧 Freedom from Rejection — a sermon I highly recommend on breaking free from the lies rejection leaves behind.

🎧 Freedom from Unforgiveness — another sermon I highly recommend on breaking free from unforgiveness and bitterness.

Want to Be in a Room Full of Singles Who Love Jesus?

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Use code RENALEFRIEND at checkout for 20% off your ticket. Would love to see you there.

In my line of work, I get the honor of holding space for many vulnerable and honest conversations about relationships.

One of the things I hear most often is this:

“If someone really knew me, they wouldn’t stay.”

A revealing and devastating lie.

And yet it is one that quietly shapes the way many people approach love, vulnerability, dating, friendship, marriage, and intimacy itself.

I can deeply relate to this.

Ben and I have been married for almost fifteen years, and let me tell you honestly: building something beautiful has cost us a lot.

We have stretch marks in our hearts from healing. From breaking generational sin patterns. From forgiveness. From counseling. From learning how to communicate. From choosing each other again and again when it would have felt easier to run.

As the old saying goes, it takes a village to sustain a marriage.

Early in our dating relationship, I could completely relate to the fear of being fully known. I broke up with Ben over a dozen times because it felt easier to avoid intimacy than to risk him truly seeing my past, which honestly felt very broken to me at the time.

Looking back now, I can clearly see that I carried avoidant attachment patterns within me. It has taken years of healing, discipleship, therapy, honesty, and walking in reality to experience freedom in this area.

And honestly, one of the greatest breakthroughs of my life has been learning to show up as I actually am.

Not just the polished parts.
Not just the strong parts.
Not just the “leader” version of me.

But all of me.

Including the ugly parts.

Many people are living deeply isolated lives because they are terrified of being fully known.

I’ve quoted my pastor Jon Tyson before, and he says:

“God can’t heal who you pretend to be.”

That sentence wrecks me every time.

Because so much of modern life is performance.

Curating.
Managing perception.
Projecting strength.
Trying to seem emotionally unbothered.

And underneath all of that is often a terrified human heart wondering:

“If people really knew me, would they still love me?”

I experienced profound healing through my husband Ben because time and time again he showed up secure and loving.

No matter what I revealed, his posture remained:

“I’m not going anywhere.”

But this wasn’t simply Ben being emotionally mature.

This came from Jesus.

Jesus mentored Ben in unconditional love.

And as a Latina woman who grew up watching telenovelas, let me just say this very honestly: Univision is not a reliable place to learn relationship dynamics.

Intensity felt normal to me.
Drama felt familiar.
Chaos felt romantic.

A man yelling or speaking cutting words strangely felt more emotionally recognizable than peace did.

And then Ben entered my life carrying peace.

He walked like a peacemaker.

My nervous system suddenly felt safe, and honestly, everything in me wanted to wrestle against that feeling.

Because when dysfunction has shaped your nervous system, peace can initially feel boring, threatening, or unfamiliar.

But Jesus knew that peace would become one of the avenues He would use to heal me.

And science is actually catching up to what many people have experienced emotionally for years.

Research strongly links adverse childhood experiences (ACEs) with difficulty forming close relationships later in life.

A study published in Frontiers in Psychology found that higher ACE scores were significantly associated with avoidance of intimacy, fear of abandonment, distrust, and emotional dysregulation in relationships. Insecure-anxious attachment manifests as fear of abandonment and rejection, while insecure-avoidant attachment shows up as discomfort with relational closeness and emotional distance.

A 2024 study published in the International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health (Finzi-Dottan & Abadi, 2024) examined 180 adults in relationships and found that childhood emotional abuse predicted fear of intimacy through both anxious and avoidant attachment styles, as well as rejection sensitivity. The researchers found that avoidant attachment had the strongest effect, with an avoidant attachment style fully mediating the relationship between childhood emotional abuse and fear of intimacy. The researchers noted that interventions promoting what they called “earned security” were key to breaking that cycle.

In other words, many people deeply want love while simultaneously fearing it.

Researchers call this an “approach avoidance conflict.”

You crave closeness.

But when closeness actually arrives, panic follows.

And honestly, most of us have either been that person or dated that person.

The one who shuts down when things get serious.
The one who sabotages healthy relationships.
The one who fears vulnerability.
The one who keeps people emotionally close enough for connection but far enough away to avoid exposure.

Fear of intimacy often looks very ordinary on the outside.

It can look like constantly staying busy. Building your entire identity around work. Serving endlessly in ministry while neglecting your own emotional life. Being “needed” by everyone but truly known by no one.

Sometimes avoidance even disguises itself as wisdom or “high standards.”

And in today’s digital culture, avoidance is easier than ever.

It’s easy to send emotionally intense texts.

“Baby, I miss you.”
“I love hearing your voice.”
“I care about you so much.”

But when it’s time to make plans, show up courageously, resolve conflict, or have difficult conversations, suddenly there are crickets.

Because digital intimacy can create the illusion of closeness without requiring the vulnerability of real presence.

But Jesus models something completely different.

Jesus does not approach us through manipulation, aggression, or control.

He approaches us with gentleness, compassion, truth, and kindness.

And yet He is also fierce.

He fiercely opposes lies, shame, destruction, injustice, and the works of the enemy.

He fights for us.

One of the most beautiful Scriptures on weakness and intimacy is 2 Corinthians 12:9:

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
— 2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV

Many of us have believed weakness is the worst thing we could reveal.

But the Kingdom works differently.

The Lord invites us to weakness because intimacy deepens there.

Galatians 6:2 says:

“Carry one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
— Galatians 6:2 AMP

Isolation is not strength.

It only creates the temporary illusion of safety.

And Psalm 139 reminds us that God fully sees us and remains near:

“O Lord, You have searched me thoroughly and have known me.
You know when I sit down and when I rise up;
You understand my thought from afar.
You scrutinize my path and my lying down,
And You are intimately acquainted with all my ways.”
— Psalm 139:1–3 AMP

He fully knows us.

And He does not withhold His love because He truly sees us.

That’s the miracle.

I genuinely believe God can heal fear of intimacy.

I believe He can reorder our lives through His presence, prayer, therapy, counseling, discipleship, community, and honest relationships.

But my bigger question and exhortation for you today is this: are you willing to let God see every part of you? Are you willing to take off the superhero cape, the Martha apron, and just show up as you? The weak, tender, not-so-great parts?

Come to the Carpenter. Sit at his shop and show him who you truly are, with no pretense, no shame, no performance. The best seat in the house is the chair in the middle of his workshop, where he makes space for your pain, your disappointment, your childhood memories, your brokenness, your failures, what no one else has ever seen or heard. Yet he will stay in that chair as long as you let him, staring at you with eyes that say: I have compassion over this. I love you. Finally, you’re letting me see you. And in that, he says: I am committed to love you, my daughter, my son.

And when you walk out to show your community, to show the person you are dating, this part of you, you are not leaving alone. He goes with you.

Last week I underwent surgery.

One of the most vulnerable moments of my life.

My whole life I have been active. An athlete. Strong. Resilient. But for over a decade, I had been living with a condition that quietly made me fragile.

After years of misdiagnosis, years of thinking it was all in my head, years of telling myself to just be tougher, pull up my bootstraps, and keep pushing through, I finally discovered something important:

There was actually something wrong.

And I needed surgery.

After a year of being in process, asking questions, grieving, praying, waiting, and preparing, I finally did it.

And through God’s grace and the prayers of the saints who held my arms up, I can say I’m recovering really well.

It’s not an easy recovery.

I’m limited in many ways. I can’t exercise for six weeks, which honestly feels humbling for someone like me.

But I’m alive.

I had never been under anesthesia before, and the day before surgery I felt like one giant ball of nerves.

What if I don’t wake up?
What if they don’t find the condition?
What if this doesn’t work?

And then suddenly, I opened my eyes.

I immediately felt the strange realization that I was not in my own bedroom. Not in my own bed.

I was waking up under fluorescent lights.

There was an IV attached to my arm. Stickers all over my body. Machines beeping around me.

And in that very moment, I whispered:

“Jesus, thank you that I woke up. Thank you that I opened my eyes.”

And suddenly, I felt Him.

Overwhelmingly.

I started weeping.

Not soft tears. Deep tears.

And then memories began flashing through my mind.

Moments where I thought I would not make it.
Moments where I was protected.
Healed.
Covered.
Seen.

Moments from my childhood where pain and trauma first entered my life and the world suddenly felt confusing.

And there He was.

Jesus.

My Father.

Protecting me.
Seeing me.
Having compassion on that little girl.

And now, thirty-four years later, there He still was.

Holding my hand in the operating room.

I suddenly felt this overwhelming revelation rise inside of me and I said out loud:

“Jesus is my refuge.”

My sweet nurse began wiping my tears while trying to hold back his own.

He asked gently, “Are you okay?”

And I told him:

“I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because I have seen the Lord.”

Where do you need to see the Lord today?

In your fragility?
In your pain?
In the waiting?
In the diagnosis?
In the disappointment?
In the loneliness?
In the fear?

Isaiah 49:15–16 says:

“Can a mother forget the infant at her breast, walk away from the baby she bore? But even if mothers forget, I’d never forget you. Never. Look, I’ve written your names on the backs of my hands.”

He remembers us.

In our weakness.
In our anguish.
In our confusion.
In the misdiagnosis.
In the recovery room.

He has written your name on His hands.

My first name, as a good Latina, is Maria.

And I can almost picture it.

I see Jesus looking at His palms and seeing the name Maria written there.

I see Him lifting His hands before the Father and mentioning me by name.

And He is doing the same thing for you.

Eugene Peterson writes about this passage:

“God is not managing us from a distance. This is a mother-language, a skin-close, breath-warm kind of knowing. To be written on someone’s hands is to be thought of with every single movement they make.”

What a thought.

Every movement of God remembers you.

You are not forgotten in your suffering.

You are not unseen in your process.

You are not abandoned in your weakness.

And maybe today, the invitation is not to try harder or be stronger.

Maybe the invitation is simply this:

Let yourself be held by the refuge of God.

“I’m not crying because I’m sad. I’m crying because I have seen the Lord.”

Sorry I’ve been a bit MIA. The past couple of weeks felt like my own little marathon.

I was in Oxford at a beautiful church called St. Aldates, leading a workshop on dating and relationships. I loved that room. It was filled with young adults who were eager, curious, and genuinely hungry to learn how to do this thing called relationships well.

There were moments while I was speaking boldly about dating, something we all secretly wish had its own chapter in the Bible. And yet, in His kindness, the Father gave us a Word that leaves room for discernment, ownership, and dependence on Him.

At times, the room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. And then suddenly, an audible “ooohhh” would cut through the silence when something slightly controversial landed.

Speaking of controversial.

This past weekend I went to watch The Devil Wears Prada with my best friends. This is basically our Super Bowl. Emily Blunt’s character remains unmatched. Her one liners, her timing, her dry British humor. Elite.

SPOILER ALERT. I REPEAT: SPOILER ALERT INCOMING.

There were a few moments in the film that struck me in a completely different way this time. And it brought me back to a question I was asked during the Q and A at St. Aldates.

“What are the roles of a man and a woman?”

Without hesitation, I said, “Men were made for war.”

And then I added, half joking but also not, “Ladies, if a man wants to pay for your meal, please let him.”

But here’s the clarification I want to make, because this matters.

Women are now able to work, build, lead, and create in ways that previous generations could not. And not only that, many women are excelling. They are outpacing men in education, in certain industries, and in leadership spaces.

There is nothing wrong with that.

Let me say that clearly.

There is nothing wrong with women being successful.

There is nothing wrong with ambition, excellence, or building something meaningful in the world.

That is not the issue.

The question is what happens when we start losing the plot.

And for me, that’s where the film became a mirror.

Because what stood out was not success. It was what success was replacing.

Sacrificing family for career.

Trading the unsexy, hidden, slow work of building a life with someone for the visible, celebrated work of building a name.

There’s a moment in the film where Andy, twenty years later, is still single. She has built an incredible career. She is powerful, respected, established.

A boss.

And again, there is nothing wrong with that.

But there is something sobering about what it may have cost her.

Because beneath the success is a question our culture avoids.

What happens when we sacrifice the core needs of the human soul for achievement?

Companionship.
Family.
Belonging.

Another scene that stayed with me is a conversation between Miranda and Andy in the car. Miranda admits that she has not been a great mother. That she has missed time with her daughters.

And then she says it plainly in a tone filled with pride:

“I LOVE TO WORK.”

That moment felt like a mirror.

Not just to the film.
But to our culture.

A quiet message that says, family is optional.
Climb the ladder.
Make a name.
Do whatever it takes.

And again, I am not saying that career and success are wrong.

I am asking a deeper question.

Is family still a priority?

And when I say family, I mean marriage that leads to building a life with someone. I mean children. I mean responsibility. I mean the unglamorous, hidden, sacred work of loving people daily.

All nighters with newborns.
Cleaning throw up off your favorite shirt.
Holding your wife’s hair while she’s puking her guts out.
Making a meal for your husband after he’s had a long day of work.
Showing up when you are tired.
Allowing another human being to shape you, challenge you, and love you.

Scripture gives us a completely different vision.

In Psalm 68:6, it says, “God sets the lonely in families.”

The Hebrew here carries a deeper meaning than just placement. It speaks of God intentionally settling someone into a home, establishing them in belonging, giving them relational covering and identity.

God does not scatter people into isolation.

He places them into belonging.

From the very beginning, in Genesis 2:18, God says, “It is not good for man to be alone.”

Before sin.
Before brokenness.
Before dysfunction.

Loneliness was the first thing God said was not good.

That should tell us something.

So here is the question I want to leave with you.

What are you sacrificing for the sake of family?

And maybe even more honestly.

What are you sacrificing instead of family?

Because in global cities like New York, London, Los Angeles, and San Francisco, it is very easy to build a life that looks successful on the outside but feels empty on the inside.

A life full of movement, but lacking roots.

A life full of people, but lacking intimacy.

A life full of achievement, but lacking legacy.

I am not here to shame ambition.

I am here to remind you that success without connection is not success.

And the deepest longing in the human heart is not to be admired.

It is to be known.

So maybe it is time to ask yourself, not just where am I going in my career, but who am I building a life with?

Because at the end of the day, titles fade.

But family remains.

We spend time apart.

And in those moments, no one is watching.

No one is checking.
No one is managing our decisions.

And we realized early in our marriage that if we were going to build something strong, something lasting, something that honors God, we had to fight for trust in the places no one sees.

The Culture of Our Marriage

From the beginning, we made a decision.

We would normalize confession.

Not shame.
Not hiding.
Not performance.

Confession.

We ask each other a simple question:

“How is your sexual integrity?”

And we answer honestly.

We both have core groups outside of our marriage where we confess sin, temptation, and weakness. But inside our marriage, we have built a culture where honesty is safe.

There is no shock.
There is no punishment.
There is no shaming.

There is truth.
And there is grace.

What We’re Actually Fighting

When people talk about pornography or sexual sin, the conversation often stops at behavior.

But behavior is rarely the root.

It is the fruit.

We’ve learned that sexual temptation is often not about sex.

It is about comfort.

It is about pain.

It is about something deeper that is asking to be soothed.

So if you found yourself looking at porn last night, or scrolling something you shouldn’t have, the question is not just:

What did I do?

The better question is:

What was I feeling?

Did you feel rejected?
Lonely?
Unseen?
Not enough?
Overwhelmed?

Because the urge for quick relief is often rooted in a deeper ache.

And that relief is temporary.

But the cycle that follows is not.

Shame sets in.
Disconnection grows.
And the pattern deepens.

A Simple Framework: HALT

Something we’ve found helpful comes from recovery communities.

HALT.

Are you:

Hungry
Angry
Lonely
Tired

This is not just physical. It is emotional.

Are you hungry for affection?
Hungry for validation?
Hungry to be known?

Are you angry at your life?
At rejection?
At your circumstances?

Are you lonely, even when surrounded by people?

Are you tired from a life that never slows down?

Awareness changes everything.

Because once you understand what’s underneath the urge, you can bring that to God instead of numbing it.

When You’re Dehydrated, Everything Looks Like Water

There’s an image that keeps coming to mind.

When people spend too long in the desert, they become dehydrated and exhausted. And when that happens, they begin to hallucinate.

They start seeing things that are not real.

Water that isn’t there.
Relief that doesn’t exist.

But it looks real.

And I think something similar happens in our inner world.

When you are emotionally depleted or spiritually tired, your desires begin to distort reality.

Pornography can start to look appealing.
Lust can feel like relief.
Fantasy can feel like comfort.

It feels like if you just reach for it, it will refresh you.

But it won’t.

It’s a mirage.

And it’s a signal.

A signal that your soul is dehydrated.

Because when you are too tired to stay grounded in truth, you start believing things that are not real.

Freedom begins when you return to reality.

When you ask:

What is actually happening in me right now?
What do I really need? And what do I really want?

What Your Desires Might Be Revealing

Sexual brokenness is not random.

Jay Stringer, in Unwanted, writes that pornography often reflects themes of humiliation, violence, and emotional entanglement.

Why?

Because what arouses us is often connected to what has wounded us.

He says the specifics of our sexual struggles often reveal the stories we need to heal from.

This is not just about willpower.

It is about healing.

Where have I been wounded?
What shaped my desires?
What pain am I trying to soothe?

Jesus is not just after behavior change.

He is after restoration.

Let’s Talk Honestly About Lust

This applies to both men and women.

Women also struggle with porn.
Women also struggle with lust.
Women also wrestle with masturbation.

This is not just a men’s issue. It is a human one.

And while people have different views, our conviction is this:

Masturbation often lead to patterns of lust and shame.

It is rarely neutral.

It is often fueled by fantasy.

And fantasy disconnects you from reality.

We are not here to condemn you.

The blood of Jesus covers you.

But we are here to call you into freedom.

Ben: Integrity When No One Is Watching

When I travel for work, I’m often alone in hotel rooms.

And those are environments where temptation can be easier.

You’re tired.
You’re alone.
You’re unstructured.

So how do you live with integrity when no one is watching?

For me, it starts with intimacy with Jesus.

Sexual integrity is not sustained by willpower. It is sustained by proximity.

Closeness to God shapes what you desire.

But I’ve also learned this.

Many people fall into sin not just because of temptation, but because of misordered priorities.

If your relationship with God is not your highest priority, something else will take that place.

Your job.
Your success.
Your relationships.
Your image.

And whatever sits at the center of your life will shape how deeply things affect you.

If your job is your identity, failure will crush you.

If relationships define you, rejection will undo you.

And in those moments, you will look for relief.

That’s where patterns begin.

So this comes back to identity.

Is your identity rooted in being loved by God?

Or is that truth only partially formed in you?

Because if something else matters more than being His, it will lead you into patterns you cannot sustain.

Freedom begins when your identity is anchored in Him.

Practical Ways Toward Freedom

If this is a struggle for you, you are not alone.

But you cannot heal in isolation.

Bring it into the light.

Find two or three safe people and confess honestly.

That is where healing begins.

Practice fasting.

Fasting trains your desires. It teaches your body that it is not in control.

Get into environments where there is no performance.

Some of the most powerful places I’ve seen are recovery rooms like AA.

People are honest.
People are raw.
People are real.

You are reminded that you are human.

You were formed from dust.

And you need God.

Find community.
Find a therapist.
Find a mentor.

Do not do this alone.

Trust Is Built Here

Trust is not built in public.

It is built in private.

In hotel rooms.
In quiet nights.
In moments no one else sees.

It is built through honesty.
Through confession.
Through choosing truth over image.

A Final Invitation

If you are single, this matters now.

You don’t arrive in marriage and suddenly become a person of integrity.

You bring your patterns with you.

If you are married, protect what you have.

Normalize confession.
Create safety for honesty.
Ask better questions.

And if you are struggling, do not hide.

Bring it into the light.

Because healing happens there.

I keep hearing the same thing from people I counsel:

“I didn’t feel peace because they were still figuring things out.”
“We don’t have the exact same theology, and that scares me.”
“I don’t want to date someone who’s still working through things.”

And I understand where that comes from.

But I also think something deeper is happening in our culture.

We have become deeply uncomfortable with people being in process.

So instead of sitting with someone in their wrestle, we cut the relationship early.

Not because there isn’t potential.
Not because there isn’t compatibility.
Not because there isn’t something beautiful forming.

But because there is fear.

The Fear of Process

What I’m seeing is this.

People encounter someone who is honest about their growth, their questions, or their healing, and instead of leaning in, they pull back.

They end the relationship.

They disengage.

They disqualify the person.

And often, it’s not because something is wrong.

It’s because something is unfinished.

But here’s the truth.

Everyone is unfinished.

Some people are just honest about it.

Baby Christians and Impossible Expectations

Sometimes this shows up theologically.

You meet someone who is newer in their faith. They are still learning. They are still forming convictions. They are still wrestling with truth.

Scripture gives us language for this.

Some are drinking milk. Others are eating solid food.

Growth takes time.

But instead of honoring the process, we expect maturity overnight.

We expect someone to have it all figured out immediately.

And when they don’t, we walk away.

Fear Is Quietly Sabotaging Potential

I believe fear is doing more damage than we realize.

Fear of getting it wrong.
Fear of being hurt.
Fear of not being in control.
Fear of someone else’s past.

And fear sabotages what could become something beautiful.

I’ve seen relationships with real compatibility, shared values, genuine connection, and strong chemistry end prematurely.

Not because they lacked potential.

But because one person was still in process.

When Conviction Turns Into Control

There is another layer I want to name because it is quietly shaping dating in our generation.

American politics have become an idol for many.

Not just an interest. Not just a conviction.

An idol.

A form of control.

I have heard men, especially, say that whoever they date must be a die-hard for a specific political party.

Not just thoughtful. Not just engaged.

But aligned in totality.

And I have sat there thinking, when did political alignment become more important than spiritual alignment?

When did we start requiring someone to be a die-hard for a party instead of a die-hard for Jesus?

There is more emphasis on politics than on the Kingdom.

And when politics and self-righteousness take root in the heart, it begins to spread.

It becomes like an infection.

It affects how you see people.
It affects how you judge people.
It affects who you allow into your life.
It affects your capacity for grace.

We need to be mindful of this.

Because anything that replaces Jesus at the center of our lives will eventually distort how we love.

The Two Extremes We’re Living In

We are seeing this from both sides.

On one side, there is rigidity.

A black and white mindset that says, if you don’t believe exactly what I believe right now, you are wrong.

There is no room for nuance.
No room for growth.
No room for journey.

On the other side, there is fear.

I’ve seen women walk away from men who had a past with pornography, even when that man is actively in healing.

He has accountability.
He has mentors.
He is in discipleship.
He is doing the work.

But because of his past, he is disqualified.

Both responses miss the heart of the gospel.

Jesus Makes Room for Process

One of the most beautiful things about Jesus is this.

He meets us in process.

He does not wait for us to arrive fully formed.

He does not require perfection before relationship.

He invites us into transformation.

Wrestling does not mean rebellion.

Wrestling is often the pathway to truth.

Jacob: The Beauty of the Wrestle

We see this clearly in the life of Jacob.

In Genesis 32, Jacob wrestles with God.

He comes in as Jacob. A man marked by dysfunction, fear, and striving.

He wrestles through the night.

He leaves with a limp.

And he leaves with a new name.

Israel.

His limp becomes a reminder that he encountered God in the tension.

He did not meet God in perfection.

He met Him in the wrestle.

And he walked away transformed.

Wrestling Is Intimacy

Wrestling is not weakness.

Wrestling is intimacy.

It is anti-religion.
It is anti-performance.

It is an invitation.

Come as you are.
Come with your questions.
Come with your past.
Come with what you learned from your family.
Come with what culture shaped in you.

And wrestle with God.

Because transformation happens there.

You come in one way.

And you leave different.

Relationships Should Have Room for Growth

If we are serious about marriage, we need to understand this.

Marriage is not two finished people coming together.

It is two people committing to grow together.

You will wrestle.
Your spouse will wrestle.
There will be tension.
There will be questions.
There will be areas still being formed.

And you do not get to walk away every time someone is in process.

You get to sit in it.

You get to witness transformation.

You get to grow together.

This Is Where the Church Must Be Different

I want to call us higher.

We cannot become like the Pharisees.

They knew Scripture.
They fasted.
They prayed.
They performed.

But they had no room for grace.

No room for process.
No room for the broken.

And Jesus consistently moved toward the opposite.

Toward the outcast.
Toward the sinner.
Toward the one still becoming.

Think about the woman caught in adultery.

She was exposed.
Shamed.
Publicly condemned.

And Jesus responds with mercy.

Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.

And then He says, go and sin no more.

That is the posture of Jesus.

Kindness first.

Transformation follows.

A Final Invitation

If you are dating, or hoping to date, I want to ask you this.

Are you looking for perfection?

Or are you willing to sit with someone in process?

Are you disqualifying people too quickly?

Are you afraid of what it means to walk with someone who is still becoming?

Because the truth is this.

You are also still becoming.

And one day, you will need someone to sit with you in your wrestle.

A Line to Carry With You

If you require perfection to stay, you will walk away from every person God is still forming.

Yes, this world holds beauty. More than enough to make a heart swell. But it is also a dark and difficult place. Wars rage across the globe. Oppressive governments crush their own people. Children suffer from incurable diseases. Marriages crumble. Abuse continues in its many forms. The world is full of goodness, but it is also full of pain.

If we want good to appear in our own lives and in the world around us, we have to fight for it. We have to fight for our relationships. We have to fight to love the people around us. We have to fight for good to emerge in our work, in our companies, in our neighborhoods, and in our homes. Real good is possible, and it is already happening, but it usually comes through the courage of people willing to contend for it.

But here’s the problem. If all we do is fight, we will eventually collapse from striving. And striving is one of the great plagues of the Christian church.

The Weight You Can’t Carry

You can know you are striving when your life is objectively fine, but your body is full of tension. Maybe your lower back aches. Your chest tightens. Fear sits in your gut. Your shoulders and upper back carry a weight you can’t name. Biologically you’re healthy, but something within you is clenched.

I’ve lived with this pain myself, and it’s deeply disorienting to know your body is fine yet feel something inside buckling under pressure.

Scripture gives us a way forward:

“Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord.” -Zechariah 4:6

This verse has become an anthem for me. No matter how courageous I think I am, no matter the risks I’m willing to take for God, no matter the heights and lows I pass through, there must always be a steady acknowledgment beneath everything:

Not by strength. Not by might. By His Spirit.

And what I’ve discovered is that this acknowledgment doesn’t lead first to discipline, but to joy.

Creating a Bowl for Joy

When you realize the weight of life isn’t actually on your shoulders, relief comes. Even happiness. But joy is slippery. It doesn’t linger by accident. It’s like water poured into your hands. If you don’t shape your hands into a bowl, it runs through your fingers.

Gratitude is the shaping of the bowl.

The world is dark, yes, but our God is loving. He is with us, for us, and near us in every bit of suffering we endure. Gratitude anchors joy in a way that mere optimism never can.

Another Scripture has become central for me:

“The joy of the Lord is my strength.” -Nehemiah 8:10

I imagine the joy of the Lord in front of me, just beyond my fingertips. To feel it, I need to keep moving forward in faith. If I stop, if I freeze, fall back, or turn inward, His joy becomes just a few millimeters beyond reach. I no longer feel its warmth.

Joy is a lightness. When I run or play golf, I often smile toward heaven and thank God. I imagine His light shining on my face. I remind myself that I am His son, loved, favored, watched over. Sometimes the joy almost makes me laugh.

This joy truly strengthens me. It lifts the invisible backpack I didn’t realize I was carrying.

But it’s not ultimately about feelings.

Joy Isn’t the Goal. Relationship Is.

Joy, peace, and righteousness in the Holy Spirit are not emotional highs. They are the outflows of relationship with God. To be fluent in joy is to refuse the mindsets that close your heart to God.

Striving is one of the worst of those mindsets.

I worry sometimes that this will be misunderstood. That people will think I’m advocating escapism or avoidance, pretending everything is fine when it isn’t. That’s not what I’m saying. If you have to detach from reality in order to feel good, you’re not understanding the Jesus I’m talking about.

Jesus suffered. He faced pain honestly and fully. And while hanging on the cross in excruciating agony, He forgave the very people killing Him:

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” - Luke 23:24

He found lightness in suffering not because He denied it, but because He stayed obedient to the Father. Obedient even to forgive his “enemies.” That obedience kept him aligned in His relationship with the Father, and from that relationship flowed a joy that suffering couldn’t extinguish.

This is the heart of the matter:

We resist striving not to feel better, not to chase emotional relief, but to remain close to God.

We fight the mindsets that push us away from Him not so we can feel the joy of His presence, but so we don’t feel the absence of His love.

We fight for good in the world, but not by our own strength.

We fight by His Spirit.

A Prayer

Holy Spirit, I invite your presence. I welcome your help. I acknowledge my need for you. I fully surrender myself into your care, into your loving hands.

I repent for striving, self-reliance, and the idolization of strength.

I wait on and invite expectantly your joy, the silkiness of your Holy Spirit that creates a weightless feeling over my body, my mind, my soul, and my emotions.

I ask that you would clear out of my life all self-righteousness, striving, and the physical ramifications in my body, my heart, my mind, my soul, and my emotions.

And I pray too that you would restore areas of my life that have been damaged by my ruthlessness, seriousness, stubbornness, and blind striving.

And lastly, God, I ask that you would give me faith to trust that you live in me and that I can lean on you for everything that I need in my life, in every moment of every day.

Amen.

And the theme of the conversation was, you guessed it.

Relationships.

My Instagram algorithm is basically all about dating, relationship podcasts, and cultural commentary around love. Everywhere I look people are talking about the same problems.

No one is being honest.
People are ghosting.
People are love bombing.
People are avoiding real conversations.

And that brought me back to something we discussed around that dinner table.

No one wants to feel uncomfortable anymore.

I think people are often afraid to take risks because they do not want to feel awkward. And feeling awkward can feel like a slow social death.

But awkwardness is part of life.

Being uncomfortable is part of being human.

Raise your hand if you have ever been immune from awkward moments.

Exactly.

The Fear of Awkwardness

This shows up very clearly in church dating dynamics.

People hesitate to ask each other out because they are afraid it might not work out. They are afraid of rejection. They are afraid of awkwardness if things do not go well.

So instead of risking awkwardness, many people avoid dating altogether.

Or we create assumptions that make us feel safe but actually keep us more divided and distant from one another.

Some people even start thinking, What if this goes nowhere and I have to leave the church?

You do not have to leave.

That is exactly why we should date in a way where you will be remembered as the person who restored the standard.

A Comfortable Generation

When we look at history, societies endured enormous hardship.

Countries endured wars where men left to fight and women held communities together and managed households.

In America people endured the Great Depression where there was barely food to eat.

Those crises were deeply uncomfortable and incredibly hard.

I am not saying our current moment is easy. We have endured a global pandemic, wars, and what many now call a loneliness epidemic.

But we have also become a very comfortable generation.

And when comfort becomes the norm, even small moments of discomfort can feel unbearable.

We become unwilling to sacrifice our comfort in order to build something meaningful like family.

Jonathan Haidt has written about this and argues that our generation often struggles with fragility and lacks the resilience that previous generations had to develop.

The Life of Jesus Was Not Comfortable

If we look at the life of Jesus and the disciples, we are certainly not looking at comfortable lifestyles.

Their lives included persecution.
Misunderstanding.
Hunger.
Suffering.
Even martyrdom.

All for the sake of the Kingdom.

If You Want Marriage, Expect Discomfort

If you want to get married, you have to be willing to pay the price of discomfort.

You have to be willing to face awkward conversations.
Moments of rejection.
Situations that do not go exactly as you hoped.

Marriage itself is not comfortable all the time.

In marriage there will be countless moments where you feel uncomfortable.

The other person will unintentionally press your buttons.
You will be triggered.
It might not look great for your image.
You will have to apologize.
You will have to recover.
You will have to humble yourself.

Someone will call out your blind spots.

There will be seasons of loss, sickness, and difficult decisions.

In those moments comfort will not lead.

Choice will.

Jesus says in Matthew 16:24,

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”

Following Jesus is not comfortable.

But He is worth following.

And marriage is worth pursuing as well.

Even when it costs us our comfort.

A Challenge for This Week

I want to leave you with a challenge.

As many of you know, I am a coach. And when I work with clients, I do not just give them information that will help them grow. I also give them an invitation to respond.

So here is my invitation for you.

Challenge yourself to be uncomfortable this week.

Maybe that looks like having a conversation with someone new.
Maybe it means making an effort to build a new friendship.
Maybe it means reaching out to mend a friendship where there has been conflict or a sense of weirdness between you.

It does not have to be about dating.

However, if you are here because you want to date and you want to get out of your comfort zone, I want to challenge you to ask someone out.

And for my ladies out there, be open.

Be open.

Do not over-spiritualize. Do not get stuck in your head.

Sometimes what affects dating culture in church is the fear of hurting someone. I recently heard someone say, “I do not want to ask this person out because I do not want to hurt them if it does not work out.”

But let me be honest with you.

We will hurt each other regardless.

Not intentionally. But because we are human. Because we are imperfect. Because relationships involve vulnerability.

Avoiding risk does not prevent pain. It only prevents connection.

So do not avoid taking risks simply because someone might get hurt. That is not the goal. The goal is to act with honesty and integrity. God sees the intentions of your heart. He measures those things.

What I do not want for you is to become so comfortable where you are that one day you look back and think, I wish I had taken more risks.

When you’re in your late 60s or 70s and you reflect on your life, I do not want regret to be the loudest voice.

And for those of you in your late 30s, 40s, or 50s who are still single and longing for partnership, I want to challenge you to take a risk at hoping again.

Maybe believing in love again.

Maybe letting someone set you up with a person you did not expect.

Maybe widening your taste and dating someone who does not fit your previous categories.

Maybe someone who is a widow with children.

Sometimes the life we thought we wanted is not the one that ends up changing us the most.

But that kind of discovery requires courage.

And courage always asks us to step outside of comfort.

As an older millennial, I’ve been observing something fascinating.

Culturally, we keep hearing that Gen Z is not dating. That they are detached. That they are hesitant.

And yet in our church communities in global cities like New York, London, LA, and San Francisco, I am seeing something different.

Gen Z is dating.

Couples are forming.

People are asking each other out.

Meanwhile, many millennials feel stuck.

So I asked Jordan directly, why does it feel like millennials are hesitating while Gen Z is actually moving?

He said something sharp.

He believes Gen Z has identified cracks in the pressures millennials inherited from their parents and from culture. Millennials waited. They delayed. They carried expectations around provision, perfection, timing. And now many are facing the consequences of that delay.

Gen Z looked up and thought, you waited because of that reason. But that reason did not produce what it promised. Why would I adopt that same pressure?

It is not rebellion for the sake of rebellion. It is experimentation. It is an agitated spirit that wants to figure things out differently.

And then we moved into a bigger question.

Can men and women actually be friends?

Friendship Is Not Fashion

Jordan said something I loved.

“Friendship isn’t fashion. I don’t wear it because it’s this beautiful thing I get to show people. I actually need friendship.”

He shared that in the last few years, God’s redemptive love has been shown to him primarily through friendship.

Not romance.

Not dating.

Friendship.

He quoted Jesus. There is no greater love than when a friend lays their life down for a friend.

If that is true, then maybe we have over-elevated romance and under-valued friendship.

Maybe we have been discipled to believe that romantic love is the ultimate form of love, when Jesus clearly says something different.

Why Are So Many Men Afraid of Female Friendships?

I asked him something I see often in millennials.

Why are men hesitant to have female friends?

He was compassionate about it.

He said many men in his generation watched marriages break down because of infidelity. They saw emotional affairs. They saw unfaithfulness. And so they decided it would be safer not to enter those spaces at all.

But avoiding rooms is not the same thing as wisdom.

He said, we cannot be men who operate out of fear.

If you steward your singleness out of fear, you will steward your marriage out of fear. If you steward your marriage out of fear, you will steward fatherhood out of fear.

Fear cannot be the operating system.

Bravery is built now.

Emotional Boundaries Matter

One of the most important parts of our conversation was about emotional boundaries.

The church is known for preaching physical boundaries.

But we rarely preach emotional ones.

Jordan said he has a strict boundary around how much emotional vulnerability he shares with female friends. Not because vulnerability is wrong. But because emotional intimacy creates attachment.

He also said something very freeing.

“You don’t owe anyone any information. You can choose to give people your trust.”

He keeps a core group of men he confesses to, processes with, opens up to. That protects his friendships with women from carrying weight they were never meant to carry.

That is maturity.

What If Feelings Develop?

We talked about something that often gets mishandled in church culture.

What if a friend develops feelings?

Jordan said that should not be treated like a negative thing.

If someone has gotten to know you deeply, seen your strengths and weaknesses, and still feels drawn to you, that is affirmation.

That is beautiful.

The problem is not feelings.

The problem is dishonesty.

Clarity is kindness.

If it is no, say no.

If it is yes, say yes.

If it is friendship, honor it.

But do not punish someone for courage.

He even shared that when he once expressed feelings to a friend, her response was, “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

His reaction was, doing what?

Honesty should be celebrated, not shamed.

The Fear of “What If”

I asked him what he would say to men who hesitate because of the what if.

What if I catch feelings?

What if she catches feelings?

What if this becomes messy?

He said something simple and profound.

Operating out of fear is not what the Father asks of us.

The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Not the fear of outcomes.

God is Father to you. But He is also Father to her. He cares about her heart as much as yours. He will guide you.

And then we said something that I think many of us need to hear.

So what if.

What if it gets awkward?

What if it does not work out?

What if you have to have a hard conversation?

That will not break you.

Avoiding what if means avoiding real friendship.

Rupture and repair are part of maturity.

You do not get deep connection without risk.

So Can Men and Women Be Friends?

Yes.

But not casually.

It requires honesty.

It requires emotional boundaries.

It requires men who are not governed by fear.

It requires women who can receive clarity without dramatizing it.

It requires community.

It requires maturity.

And maybe the deeper invitation is this.

If we cannot learn to be brothers and sisters first, how will we ever build marriages that last?

Maybe the issue is not whether men and women can be friends.

Maybe the issue is whether we are willing to grow up.

And if you are stewarding your singleness out of fear right now, hear this gently.

That same fear will follow you into marriage.

Bravery starts here.

If you are reading this and you have been hesitant to build friendships with the opposite sex, I want to ask you:

Are you protecting wisdom, or are you protecting fear?

There is a difference.

And it will shape your future.

Jordan Deen is a NYC-based multidisciplinary creative director, storyteller, and host of the podcast Voicemails: To My Younger Self, where he creates deeply honest conversations on identity, father wounds, healing, and redemption. He has worked with organizations across Europe and America shaping compelling narratives that help people understand themselves and their relationships in light of faith and personal story.

I have always found Love Is Blind to be a fascinating social experiment. I haven’t watched the latest American seasons, but I did watch the UK one and thought it was pretty good.

If you don’t know the premise of the show, they place a group of men and women in pods where they converse without seeing each other. The idea is to form a love connection not based on looks, but on conversation and depth.

Sometimes I wonder, should I begin this experiment among Christians? I wonder how much would shift… or scarily, how much would look the same.

After forming connections, they reveal themselves, go on holiday together, attempt “real life,” and then stand at the altar to decide whether or not to marry. For many, they say no at the altar. Those are always the cringiest moments.

Recently, a clip from the show circulated online. A couple was having what they called an “honest conversation.” She is an accomplished, beautiful, intelligent doctor. The man told her he was not attracted to her body and that what he is drawn to is a woman who does CrossFit and Pilates every day.

These two are not believers. And for context, he is not exactly a supermodel himself. That made his request even more striking.

It made me wonder how much social media and pornography have shaped this man’s view of attraction. It brought me back to countless conversations I had during my matchmaking days with men who were fixated on finding a “fit woman” above almost every other requirement. Character, faith, emotional maturity, shared values — these often came second.

So I began asking myself:

Where did our concept of attraction become so inflexible, twisted, unrealistic, entitled, and rooted in pride?

And that leads to an even bigger question.

Where does pride originate?

We see pride early in Scripture. Cain becomes filled with rage and jealousy toward his brother Abel because his offering is not received the way he wanted. Instead of allowing correction, his heart hardens. Pride takes root. Rage follows. And it ends in murder. Genesis 4 shows us what happens when wounded identity is left unchecked.

For years, my husband Ben and I have studied and prayed against what many call the orphan spirit.

The orphan mindset believes the lie:
I am unworthy.
There is never enough.
I must control the narrative.

Or on the opposite end:
I am better than.

But underneath both is the same false story. Deep down there is a narrative that says, I feel small inside, so I must hide behind grandiosity, achievement, or entitlement in order to feel worthy.

This mindset shows up in how we view ourselves, how we date, and how we approach relationships.

The orphan mindset makes you work relentlessly for acceptance, belonging, and love. It depletes your soul. It weakens your spirit. It makes you perform for affection rather than receive it.

And then when you finally get what you long for, a relationship becomes an idol. That person sits on the throne of your heart. You place the weight of completion on them. You expect them to silence your insecurity, validate your worth, and heal your wounds.

“Darling, you complete me.”

But no human being can carry that weight.

Jesus came to dismantle the orphan spirit once and for all.

He gave us the Spirit of adoption.

Romans 8:15–16 says,
“For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’”

Abba is an intimate word. It means Dad. Daddy.

We are no longer slaves to fear. No longer gripping tightly out of anxiety that if we let go, there won’t be enough. No longer striving to prove ourselves worthy of love.

The Spirit of adoption is given freely. Not earned. Not achieved. Given.

The Father is not afraid to confront our false self. He sees past the performance and says, what’s behind this? I see a scared little child who has been starved for love, exhausted by pressure, trying so hard to be enough.

Come out. Let me see that wounded child.

Let the love of the Father meet the place where you feel the most unworthy. The love that will never leave you or forsake you. The love that restores. The love that heals.

Brennan Manning writes in Abba’s Child,
“The false self is the self that I try to manufacture in order to impress God and others.”

The good news is that the Father is already impressed by who we truly are.

Song of Songs says, “You have captured my heart with one glance of your eyes.”

What if we actually believed that?

How would your dating life change if you viewed yourself through the lens of the Father’s love instead of through low self-esteem and cultural standards?

Your true self is your beloved self.

“Define yourself radically as one beloved by God. This is the true self. Every other identity is illusion.” — Brennan Manning

Henri Nouwen writes,
“The great spiritual battle begins and never ends with the reclaiming of our belovedness.”
“Self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the Beloved.”

Perhaps the greatest spiritual battle in your life right now is not about finding the right person.

It is about laying down your resistance to being loved by the Father.

Take a moment today in solitude.

Kneel down.
Open your hands in a posture of receiving.
Invite the Holy Spirit to come.
Ask Him to lead you to the Father.
Say, Father, release Your love over me. I release my defensiveness and resistance. I receive Your love.

See what happens.

Make this your lifestyle.

Become a child in Abba’s arms.

Because until you know you are already complete in Him, you will keep asking another human being to do what only God can do.

And then something strange happened.

The mice stopped mating.
They stopped caring for their young.
They abandoned the most instinctual behavior of any living creature: reproduction.

The experiment was repeated multiple times. The outcome was the same.

Eventually, every population died out.

What does that have to do with us?

It’s no secret that marriage rates are declining, that many singles feel stuck, and that population replacement rates are negative in large parts of the world. While it would be simplistic to map mouse behavior directly onto human beings, it would also be unwise to assume this strange experiment has nothing to teach us.

I don’t want—and actually refuse—to write another article about how much time people spend on social media. You already know. I know. And I’m not immune to its pull either. But “just get off your phone” isn’t a specific diagnosis, and it’s not a complete solution.

Something deeper is happening.

One detail from the mouse experiment stands out:
the mice were surrounded by social proximity and eligible options—yet they were unwilling (or unable) to pair off and reproduce.

Why didn’t the mice “date, marry, and have kids”?

Researchers theorized that the mice were oversaturated with meaningless interaction. Their social encounters weren’t oriented toward building nests, protecting one another, or raising young. They weren’t giving themselves to anything or anyone. They were simply consuming from the environment and brushing past one another while doing so.

Yes, the mice eventually died out. In every version of the experiment.

Certainly, there were limitations to this experiment. But we should still ask, “So what killed them?”

Disconnected Social

Disconnected social refers to interactions that mimic real connection but lack meaningful relational substance.

Our issue isn’t simply screen time. It’s that much of our digital life keeps us in consumption mode—receiving social stimulation without participating in the kind of embodied, mutual reality our social instincts were designed for.

For most of human history, social interaction existed for survival and flourishing. There were real threats, real responsibilities, and real people depending on one another. Those realities still exist today—but they do not exist online in the same way.

Social media is a synthetic version of the world. It elevates dopamine without offering real battles to fight, real people to love, or real responsibility to carry.

What fits in this bucket?

My working term disconnected social includes all of the below:

• Porn – mimics sexual and relational intimacy without covenant or responsibility

• Twitter / X – mimics serious conversation about public life while remaining largely disembodied

• Social media (Instagram, Facebook, TikTok) – disconnection masked as connection

• Video & conversational podcasts – simulates intimacy and dialogue, but the relationship is one-sided. You don’t know them, and they don’t know you.

• Dating apps, romantic chat, extended texting – endless banter that sustains dopamine while delaying real connection

• Chatbots, romantic fantasy, parasocial content – feign relational closeness without mutual presence

You don’t have to agree with every category. Hear my heart:

Each “drink” of disconnected social subtly confuses your body and mind about what it’s consuming. And your brain and soul learns something very clearly—you are consuming, not giving.

That matters.

A pastoral note: my opinion and the Biblical stance is that 0 minutes of porn, romantic fantasy reading, or time spent emotionally bonding with Chat Bots is beneficial. But if you disagree, then let’s agree to label it: disconnected social.

A Metaphor (Because Who Doesn’t Love One)

Imagine drinking a cup of coffee right before bed. As you lie awake, you wonder:

Am I not tired—or has caffeine made me feel awake when I’m actually exhausted?

That’s what disconnected social does.

We feel socially satisfied, but our souls are starving.

Sometimes we notice quickly. Other times it takes years. One day—five or ten years later—we realize that what felt harmless was quietly shaping us all along.

C.S. Lewis once described how easy it has become to avoid God:

“Avoid silence, avoid solitude, avoid any train of thought that leads off the beaten track. Concentrate on money, sex, status, health, and above all, your own grievances. Keep the radio on. Live in a crowd. Use plenty of sedation.”

Disconnected social makes this avoidance effortless.

So What’s the Alternative?

Two simple moves:

1. Limit disconnected social

2. Use the recovered bandwidth to build real community

It’s not enough to put your phone down. If you don’t replace consumption with contribution, the formation doesn’t change.

The One-Hour Rule (A 60-Day Challenge)

For 60 days, limit disconnected social to one hour per day.

This includes:

• Social media platforms

• Extended texting instead of calls or voice notes

• YouTube, video podcasts, or shows that simulate conversation

• Dating apps, porn, romantic fantasy, chatbots, parasocial content

Some exceptions:

• Practical logistics texts

• Brief, kind messages

• Some TV or dating app use can be healthy

Ask one honest question:

Is this replacing a relationship—or preparing me for one?

Most people I know spend 4–6 hours a day in disconnected social. Imagine reallocating that time:

• An hour in Scripture or talking with God

• An hour on the phone with a friend

• An hour writing, fixing something, or simply doing the dishes

• Coffee with someone nearby

• An earlier bedtime, followed by a morning walk

Some people change through moderation. Others need abstinence—especially in specific categories. Be honest with yourself.

Why Community?

Because locally anchored community is where life actually forms.

We spend enormous energy arguing or worrying about massive, abstract problems in the world. Many of them are downstream of something far simpler: weak families, thin friendships, and disembodied churches.

God’s answer has always been small and near—meals, shared lives, showing up again next week.

St. Seraphim of Sarov said:

“Acquire a peaceful spirit, and thousands around you will be saved.”

A Direct Call-Out

If you say you want to date, but you haven’t in a long time—and you’re spending more than an hour a day in disconnected social—you owe it to yourself to try this.

Not forever.
Just long enough to feel the difference.

A Final Word

The Bible doesn’t give us a complicated strategy for healing the world. Near the end of his life, St. John summed it up simply:

“Little children, love one another.”

Digital life is not the enemy. Curated well, it can sharpen us. But it was never meant to replace real presence, real responsibility, or real love.

You don’t need to fix everything.
You don’t need to solve the algorithm.

Start where you are.
With the person in front of you.

That’s where real connection still grows.

—Ben

*Porn is highly addictive. If, when doing this challenge you have an adverse reaction, please DM Ale or me for resources. Also, the assumed expectation is that you cannot substitute porn or social with alcohol, drugs, hooking up, or any other type of in-person, yet disconnected social or sexual behavior.

How do I know if I’m supposed to get married?
How do I discern if this person is my spouse?
How do I know if marriage is even for me?

Let me start here.

No matter what season you are in, I have faith for you.

If you’re single and longing, I have faith for your heart.
If you’re dating and unsure, I have faith for your decision.
If you’re healing from disappointment, I have faith for your restoration.

And I also want to say something clearly and boldly:

Marriage is not for everyone.

Scripture holds marriage in high honor, but it also honors singleness as a gift.

In 1 Corinthians 7, Paul speaks about singleness as a way of undivided devotion to the Lord. He says that the unmarried person can be concerned with the Lord’s affairs, how to please Him, while the married person must also attend to the concerns of their spouse. He even says, “I wish that all of you were as I am,” referring to his own singleness. That is not anti-marriage. It is pro-devotion.

Jesus Himself speaks about celibacy in Matthew 19. After teaching on marriage, He says that some choose to live like eunuchs “for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.” And then He adds, “The one who can accept this should accept it.”

That is not a lesser calling.
It is a courageous one.
It is a prophetic one.

So if you sense a call to celibacy, you are not behind. You are not missing out. You are walking faithfully.

And for those who deeply desire marriage, that desire is not weak or worldly. It is sacred.

But let’s keep this in perspective.

Our ultimate union is not with a spouse. It is with the Lamb. Earthly marriage is a signpost. The greater reality is Christ and His Bride.

That truth steadies everything.

The Myth of Instantly Knowing

When people begin dating, I notice patterns.

Men often want to see a photo first, as if a photo can reveal compatibility and character.

Women often want to know every detail before meeting, as if information can provide security.

But here’s the reality.

You cannot know a person unless you truly know them.
And knowing takes time.

Discernment is not downloaded in one coffee date. It is revealed through the Holy Spirit in patterns, pressure, and actions.

So what are we actually discerning?

What Is Compatibility?

Compatibility is not sameness.
It is sustained harmony between two distinct people.

It is two people who can move in the same direction over time.

Decades of research confirm that what sustains couples long term are shared core values:

Faith
View of marriage and commitment
Calling and purpose
Family vision
Financial philosophy
Prayer and hunger for Jesus

Not just attraction. Not just chemistry. Not just lifestyle. Even though these things are important, important does not mean foundational.

John Gottman identified what he calls the Four Horsemen that erode relationships:

Criticism
Defensiveness
Contempt
Stonewalling

If these are habitual, compatibility is weakening.
If humility, ownership, curiosity, and repair are present, compatibility is strengthening.

What Does the Word Say About Marriage?

Jesus raises the vision of marriage far beyond convenience.

In Mark 10:9, He says, “Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”

In context, He is responding to questions about divorce. He takes the conversation back to Genesis.

“For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh.” Genesis 2:24.

Marriage is not merely social. It is spiritual. It is covenantal. It is a leaving and a cleaving. It is two becoming one.

That should both humble us and fill us with awe.

Marriage is not casual.
It is covenant.

Practical Lenses for Discerning Marriage

Discernment is spiritual, yes. But it is also practical.

Here are some areas I encourage you to explore honestly.

Friendship

Before covenant, before wedding plans, before all the theological weight of marriage, there should be friendship.

Be with someone you can delight in.

A best friend.
A safe person.

Someone you do not need to perform for.
Someone you are not afraid to show your real self to.
Someone who sees your quirks, your weaknesses, your intensity, your silence, and does not flinch.

Be with someone you can sit in silence with and not feel anxious.
Someone you do not need to hide parts of yourself from.
Someone who can hold your secrets with integrity.

Can you laugh together?
Can you cry together?
Can you go on adventures together?
Can you endure ordinary Tuesdays together?

If you cannot be fully yourself with someone now, marriage will not suddenly create that freedom later.

Look for the person you can both admire and relax with.

Because at the end of the day, you are not just choosing a spouse.
You are choosing your closest companion for life.

Communication

Is there fear in expressing your needs?
Do you avoid hard conversations to keep the peace?
Can you provide feedback without shame or withdrawal?

Silence before marriage becomes resentment after marriage.

Family

How do you each relate to your family of origin?
Are there healthy boundaries?
Are there patterns you need to unlearn?

And this is important:

Do you want to have a family?
How do you want to raise children?
What does parenting look like in your mind?

Do you share a vision around discipline, education, faith formation, and community?

These are not small details. They are foundational.

Finances

How do you view money?
Stewardship? Security? Generosity? Risk? Saving? Spending?

What financial narratives did you inherit?
Are there unhealthy patterns that need healing?

Money reveals values. It reveals fear. It reveals trust.

Commitment

What does commitment look like practically?
Not just in word, but in action.

Will you prioritize prayer times?
Weekly date nights?
Intentional time to check in?

Commitment is built in habits long before it is tested in crisis.
Commitment means choosing to forgive, resolve conflict, and fight for connection.

Community

How will you build and integrate friendships?
Will you isolate, or will you cultivate community as a couple?

Healthy marriages are not cut off from the body of Christ. They are strengthened by it.

So How Do You Know?

You know slowly.

You know when peace remains even when emotions fluctuate.

You know when you can see their weaknesses clearly and still feel willing to build.

You know when the relationship is forming you more into Christ, not pulling you away from Him.

You know when fear is not the loudest voice.

And sometimes, you know because you choose.

Discernment is not passive. It is participatory. It is prayerful and courageous.

If you desire marriage, begin forming your heart toward it now. Develop a vision. Date with telos. Date not for entertainment, but for formation.

Marriage is powerful and prophetic in our generation. In a culture that doubts permanence, covenant still stands.

But remember, the goal is not marriage at all costs.

The goal is faithfulness.

If you are called to singleness, be wholehearted.
If you are called to marriage, be intentional.

Marriage is not discovered through fantasy.
It is discerned through trials and testing.

And formation takes time.

But for me, it is a day of celebrating love and friendship.

And today, I want to celebrate you.

Especially those of you who are single moms, widows, single women, and those of you navigating infertility.

I know that days like Valentine’s Day, walking through the streets of your city, whether it is the metro, the subway, or the tube, and seeing men carrying bouquets of roses and rushing home can strike a chord.

For some, that chord symbolizes an ache.

An ache of unmet longing.
An ache of exhaustion from finding yourself in the same place you were a year ago, five years ago, seven years ago, fifteen years ago.
An ache of grief because you feel lonely.
An ache because you miss your loved one today.

I know this is hard. It hurts.

I see you.

I may not fully understand because my story looks different. But I want to say this clearly. I validate how you might be feeling.

And Jesus sees you even more.

He sees thoroughly into you. He sees the pain, the battle wounds, the hope deferred and the hope renewed. He stands at the door of your heart with the most stunning bouquet of roses, saying:

You are worthy.
I adore you.
You are beautiful.
You are fun.
You are courageous.
You are resilient.
You are tender.
You are powerful.
I delight in you.
I celebrate you.
I hold every tear.
I hold every question.
I hold every win, every loss, every battle.

You do not go unnoticed today.

He sees you for who you are, not for what you offer.

1 John 3:1
“See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God. And that is what we are.”

Ephesians 2:10
“For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”

Workmanship. The Greek word is poema.
You are His poem. His inspiration. The beauty within and around you moves His heart.

Proverbs 31:25
“She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.”

Song of Songs 4:7
“You are altogether beautiful, my darling; there is no flaw in you.”

He also says that He places the lonely in families.

So today I pray this for you. That He would find you a home and place you in family and community. One that sees you, celebrates you, listens to you, does not assume but embraces you.

So today, my ladies:

Put on your best outfit.
Wear the red lipstick.
Splash some perfume if that is your thing.
Or do whatever makes you feel most alive and beautiful.

Celebrate yourself.

Celebrate the fact that with one glance of your eye, you have captured the heart of Jesus.

I am praying for you.

For the woman angry at God because she has not been married, I am praying for healing.

For the woman lonely and longing for a spouse, I have faith and I am praying for a spouse.

For the woman longing for a baby, I am praying for family.

For the widow and the single mom, I am praying that you feel the nearness of your Maker, your faithful Husband.

You are in my heart today.

Ale

In my work with singles, couples, and leaders in global cities, I see how ungrieved expectations quietly shape our dating lives, our marriages, and our faith. We carry timelines we never agreed to consciously. We live with relational assumptions formed early, often unconsciously, and when life does not follow the script, we feel stuck without knowing why.

Ben has a way of naming reality with honesty, tenderness, and courage. This essay is not about despair. It is about truth. About the quiet work of grieving fantasies so that we can live fully in the present without being haunted by what never came to be.

I believe this is holy work. And I hope it gives you language for something your heart has been holding for a long time.

There are ghosts walking around in all of our lives.

In Spanish, the word for ghost is fantasma. It is closely related to the word fantasy. That connection matters, because many of the ghosts that haunt us are not specters of the past so much as unrealized lives. Possibilities that never took on flesh and bone. Futures that never arrived. Versions of ourselves that existed only in hope.

These fantasmas linger because we struggle to let them go. We resist acknowledging that certain doors have already closed, locked behind the irreversible passage of time. And yet, like any ghost, they seem to pass effortlessly through those doors, reappearing in our thoughts, our longings, and our disappointments.

This essay is about funerals.
Not for people, but for fantasies.

It is about learning to mourn the lives we hoped for but will never live. Because until those funerals are held, we remain haunted.

My wife and I live in New York City, where we have made our home for over a decade. Ale is originally from Guatemala, born and raised, and together we have been married for almost fifteen years. We are deeply grateful for the church community we are part of here, a community that continues to burn brighter year after year.

But like everyone else, not everything in our lives has gone according to plan.

If you take an honest inventory of your own story, you will find the same. There are wins, yes. But there are also losses. Some loud. Some quiet. Some that announce themselves clearly, and others that hide beneath the surface for years before demanding to be acknowledged.

I am thirty-nine years old as I write this. To date, my wife and I have not been able to conceive and carry a child to full term.

That was not the plan.

Like many people, we assumed that children would come once we were ready. Once careers stabilized. Once marriage felt solid. Once the switch was flipped. What we discovered instead is a reality culture rarely prepares us for: conception is not guaranteed. Fertility is not endlessly elastic. Biology does not bend itself to personal timelines or professional ambition.

Many of us have been quietly sold the idea that we can delay family indefinitely and summon it at will when the moment feels right. Increasingly, people are learning the hard way that this is not true. Fertility clinics are full. Doctors are overbooked. And the illusion of total control is collapsing under the weight of reality, especially in global cities.

In places like New York, marriage is delayed, deprioritized, or avoided altogether. Family life is postponed in favor of optionality, mobility, and career flexibility. Beneath all of it sits a fantasy: that we can have everything. That we can excel in every category of life without sacrifice.

But real life does not work that way.

You cannot get A-pluses in every domain. That is not reality. That is fantasy.

And fantasy, left unexamined, becomes a ghost.

What my wife and I have had to face is not only that we will not be raising children in our thirties, but that some part of our hearts had quietly assumed we would. Even though we were not trying in our twenties, there existed an unspoken expectation, formed early in life, that adulthood would unfold predictably. Marriage would arrive. Children would follow. Life would progress along a familiar script.

This is how a child’s imagination works. The problem comes when those assumptions go unexamined into adulthood.

Eventually, the adult mind must name them and bury them.

This is what I mean when I speak of ghosts.

A fantasma is something that is not real but presents itself as real. It whispers familiarity. It promises fulfillment. It claims to be on your side.

“I am here to help you become a young parent.”
“I am here to give you the relationship you imagined.”
“I am here to deliver the life you deserve.”

But when you look closely, something unchangeable stands in the way.

Time.

The moment has passed.
The door is closed.
What exists on the other side is no longer accessible. Not now. Not ever.

And no amount of longing, effort, spiritual bargaining, or self-improvement can reopen it.

Until that truth is acknowledged, the ghost remains.

This is where dating, relationships, and singleness quietly intersect with grief.

Many people are not stuck because they lack opportunity. They are stuck because they are still living in conversation with a fantasy version of their life. A timeline they assumed would unfold. A relationship that was supposed to happen by now. A marriage that would have arrived earlier. A family that would have followed naturally.

And so the work begins with a funeral.

Not because we are weak, but because we are honest.

Before there can be resilience, there must be reality. Before there can be faithfulness, there must be mourning. Before we can learn how to stand and love well, we must first accept what has already been lost.

Real breakthrough begins here.

You cannot live faithfully if you are secretly clinging to fantasies of invincibility, ease, or guaranteed outcomes. You cannot move forward while being haunted by versions of life that will never return.

The ghosts must be named.

Marriage in my twenties.
Marriage on my timeline.
Parenthood exactly as I imagined it.
A relationship without risk or loss.

And then, they must be buried.

Only then can something truer begin to grow.

Not the life you scripted, but the life you are actually being invited into.
Not the relationship you fantasized about, but the one that requires courage, presence, and love now.
Not a story without grief, but a story with depth.

Because faith is not the denial of loss.
It is the decision to live fully after naming it.

And that is how ghosts lose their power.

Quick story.

Last weekend, I went to Miami with two of my best friends. One of them and I were convinced our flight back to New York would be canceled. The weather was wild. Flights were dropping left and right. We waited. We refreshed. We braced ourselves for disappointment.

We still woke up at 4 a.m. and went to the airport.

The board was red. Every flight canceled. Except ours.

We boarded. The landing was choppy. New York looked like a winter wonderland. I was genuinely shocked there weren’t penguins floating around LGA. Minutes later, the airport shut down completely. No flights in or out.

Sometimes in life, you have to move forward until you hear a clear no.

Dating works the same way.

And yet, most people aren’t moving at all.

The Silent Standoff

One of the most common dynamics I see in dating right now is this quiet, paralyzing standoff.

Everyone is waiting.
Everyone is observing.
Everyone is hoping the other person will make the first move.

No one wants to look foolish.
No one wants to feel rejected.
No one wants to lose control.

So instead of risk, we choose assumptions.

“She’s probably not interested.”
“He would say something if he liked me.”
“I don’t want to make it awkward.”

Assumptions feel safe. But assumptions are not reality. And they quietly keep us from stepping into something that could actually grow.

How Purity Culture Taught Us to Fear Desire

Let’s talk honestly.

Purity culture shaped many of us far more than we realize. Not by forming conviction, but by breeding fear and shame around desire.

When Ben and I started dating, I asked him not to kiss me. I was deeply attracted to him. But that decision didn’t come from the Holy Spirit. It came from a rule I had absorbed from a book.

I had crossed sexual boundaries in past relationships before I knew Jesus. I carried shame. Somewhere along the way, I learned to associate desire with danger. Kissing felt sinful. Attraction felt suspicious.

About a year into dating, trust, honor, and love had grown so deeply between us that we decided to kiss. It was one of the best decisions we made. But I had to fight through layers of guilt and shame that came from religion and legalism, not from God.

Many of us were formed in environments where desire was demonized instead of disciplined. Repression was baptized as holiness. And now, years later, people don’t know how to express interest at all.

We are sexual beings. Desire is not bad. It is part of our God-given design. What we need is self-control, not shutdown.

No One Is Showing Their Cards Anymore

Here’s the reality I keep hearing.

Men genuinely do not know when women are interested.

That shocked me.

One man said to me, “If a woman is interested, she has to give a green light. She might think she’s being obvious or cringe, but she’s not.”

And he’s right.

Dating has become a guessing game. No signals. No cues. No movement. Just internal monologues and overanalysis.

But humans were never meant to connect purely in their heads.

Researchers in social and interpersonal communication have long shown that romantic interest is often communicated nonverbally. Eye contact. Smiling. Proximity. Orientation. Responsiveness.

Simple things matter.

Positioning your body toward him.
Finding reasons to be physically near.
Not creating distance when he moves closer.

And men, this matters too.

Asking follow-up questions.
Remembering details.
Responding with genuine enthusiasm.

Details communicate intention. And intention builds safety.

This is not about manipulation or formulas. Trust Jesus above everything. But faith often requires action.

Stop Waiting. Start Moving.

If you’ve been burned by disappointment, it’s okay to pause. Process with Jesus. Take a breather. Heal.

But don’t let fear masquerade as wisdom.

Don’t confuse repression with maturity.
Don’t confuse passivity with discernment.

Put yourself in proximity.
Show availability.
Let desire exist without shame.

Availability is not desperation. It is courage.

A Word to Men

Ask her out.

Or ask someone to introduce you.
Or ask me to set you up. I will happily arrange a date.

Use a wingman or wingwoman.
Ask if your crush is going to an event.

And yes, sometimes the smallest act of courage is enough. If she doesn’t have a drink in her hand, offer water. Chivalry is still sexy.

Dating does not need to be complicated. It needs courage.

Show Your Cards

Most people aren’t single because there are no options.
They’re single because everyone is waiting for certainty before they’re willing to risk.

But love rarely begins with certainty.
It begins with RISK.

Desire is not the enemy.
Fear is.

So show your cards.

Because nothing beautiful grows where no one is willing to go first.

Everyone is waiting for a sign, but love usually begins with someone willing to risk looking foolish.

I want to begin by saying this clearly. I am not a professional clinician. My credentials come from a ministry background, being a certified coach, and walking alongside people in discipleship since I was 18 years old. So when I talk about attachment theory, fear of commitment, or avoidance, I am speaking from observation, personal research, lived experience, and revelation from God.

If this post touches something tender or feels too heavy to untangle on your own, I want to lovingly urge you to seek professional help. Therapy is not a lack of faith. It is often one of the ways God brings healing and repair.

The healing journey is narrow. It is winding. It has ups and downs. And it leads us to the humble truth that we are human, imperfect, and in need of a Savior.

God is the only one who can truly heal broken attachment, fear of commitment, and unresolved narratives shaped by family systems and trauma. He gives us permission to be human before we are impressive. In our humanity, He meets us with care, repair, and perfect love.

Admitting that we are broken humans actually saves us from performance, control, and self-reliance.

In Christian environments, I often notice how spiritual language is used as a bandage over a bleeding wound. We bypass what is underneath because we believe we must “have it all together” in order to be loved, chosen, or respected. That mindset does not heal us. It turns us into professional performers. Some of us could win an Emmy.

What Avoidance Actually Is

Avoidance is not the absence of desire.

Avoidance is the fear of closeness disguised as discernment, independence, or spirituality.

It is not that people do not want love. Most people deeply desire connection, intimacy, and partnership. Avoidance shows up when closeness feels unsafe, overwhelming, or threatening to our sense of control.

Avoidance often sounds like wisdom, but it feels like pulling away.

Family Wounds and the Fear of Commitment

Our earliest attachments shape how we relate to commitment.

I see this often in conversations with men who grew up in religious environments where shame was used as motivation. Some were told they were not praying enough, not spiritual enough, not doing enough. Over time, a quiet lie took root: I am not a good enough believer.

In dating, that lie becomes: women only want hyper-spiritual men, and I am not enough to lead.

In other scenarios, mothers struggled with control, codependency, or emotional boundaries. Some overshared marital pain with their children, unintentionally placing the child in the role of emotional caretaker. The child learns, I must be perfect to keep the people I love happy.

As adults, this turns into codependency. If my partner is struggling, I must fix them. I must rescue them. Over time, this pressure becomes unbearable, and avoidance creeps in. Relationships begin to feel like a threat instead of a gift.

Then there are father wounds. Absent fathers. Emotionally distant fathers. Fathers who never said, “I’m proud of you,” or “You’re beautiful.”

For women, this can translate into a constant need for affirmation. I need reassurance that I am wanted, chosen, and enough.

For men, this often results in emotional shutdown. When a woman asks for connection, vulnerability, or emotional presence, it feels overwhelming. Instead of engaging, the instinct is to run. She feels needy. He feels inadequate.

How Avoidance Shows Up in Dating

Avoidance is not always obvious.

Sometimes it looks like fantasizing about someone unavailable while avoiding someone present.

The unavailable person feels safe because nothing is required. No risk. No exposure. No responsibility.

The present person feels dangerous because real intimacy requires courage.

This is one of the clearest signs that avoidance is operating.

Spiritual Language as a Hiding Place

I want to be gentle here, but honest.

“I’m waiting on the Lord.”
“I don’t feel peace.”
“I want to guard my heart”

Sometimes these phrases are sincere. Sometimes they are ways to avoid risk, vulnerability, or disappointment.

Wisdom slows things down to discern.
Avoidance shuts things down to escape.

God does not lead us through fear. Fear leads to control. Control eventually leads to sabotage.

Scripture reminds us of something deeply human and deeply theological:

“It is not good for man to be alone.”

God said this before sin entered the world. Longing for connection is not weakness. It is design.

How Healing Begins

Honoring our parents does not mean denying the ways they hurt us.

Acknowledging pain is not dishonor. It is honesty.

Healing begins with forgiveness. Not excusing harm, but releasing its power.

Father God, I release my mother for where she fell short.
Father God, I release my father for what I did not receive.

Renounce bitterness, offense, self-protection, and fear of commitment.

Invite trusted people into your healing. Community matters.
Invest in therapy. It can change your life. It has changed mine.

And then, slowly, begin to move toward commitment.

Avoidance says run away.
Commitment says move toward.

A Final Charge

Fight for your freedom.

Fight for the wholeness that was purchased for you when Jesus stretched out His arms on the cross.

He did not die so you could live hidden in shame, fear, or isolation.
He died so you could love and be loved well.

You are not disqualified because of your wounds.
You are not weak because commitment feels hard.
You are not behind.

You are worthy of being fully seen.

And as you allow yourself to be seen, listen for the whisper of the Father saying:

My child, you are good enough.

They are surrounded by people.
They attend church, small groups, dinner parties, conferences.
They talk endlessly about dating, relationships, and marriage.

But very few are actually moving toward one another.

Instead, we are living in what I would call the great dating stall. A cultural moment where desire exists but action does not. Where longing is present but courage is absent. Where ambiguity has replaced pursuit. Where too many options leave men frozen and women quietly overlooked. Where cynicism slowly takes root and builds a bitter fortress that becomes difficult to leave.

I am an observer of culture, social dynamics, and people. I love people. I find human beings fascinating. I want to understand why we do what we do.

Recently, my husband Ben and I were having brunch at a buzzing new spot in Soho. The place was alive. Raye’s song “Where the h*** is my husband?” was playing in the background. Tuna melts and salads were being served. Matcha lattes were flowing.

The couple seated next to us was clearly on a first date. Well played, mate. A brunch date is a strong move.

I could not help but notice the dynamic. My heart honestly had compassion for the guy. He was so nervous that he was talking about himself the entire time. He was not asking questions, not because he was arrogant, but because anxiety had taken the wheel. The woman seemed genuinely interested and gracious, but the conversation never quite shifted.

As I watched, I had this thought: people want to date, but they do not know how.

The expectations are too high before anyone has even met. Anxiety pushes people into extended texting, long Instagram DMs, and premature emotional sharing that creates a false sense of intimacy. It feels like control disguised as connection. Then, when people finally meet in person, reality does not match the fantasy, and disappointment sets in.

We are forgetting that being with one another is a skill. Presence is learned. Conversation is practiced. Curiosity takes time.

Dating was never meant to be deciphered in one meeting. Mystery is healthy. Our culture is addicted to immediacy. We want to know everything now so we can decide quickly whether to move on to the next option. But people are not algorithms. Hearts are not profiles.

This is why patience is not passive. It is formative.

I often encourage people to ask questions that reveal the heart without interrogating it. Questions like:
What do you admire in the people you are closest to?
When do you feel most alive?
What makes you lose track of time?
What is something you are genuinely curious about right now?

These questions create space. They allow someone to unfold slowly, which is often where attraction actually grows.

Another reality we cannot ignore is this: in many global cities, especially within church communities, the numbers are uneven. There are often more women than men. This creates tension, scarcity thinking, and quiet competition, even when no one wants to admit it.

But the deeper issue is not the ratio.
The deeper issue is that dating has lost its direction.

People are orbiting one another without intention, without shared vision, without a common understanding of what dating is actually for.

There has been a surge of articles claiming that women no longer want to get married. From my perspective as a coach, observer, and woman living in global cities, that framing misses the mark.

Most women I know still desire partnership. They still desire marriage. They still desire family.

What they are opting out of is not marriage.
They are opting out of prolonged confusion.
They are opting out of emotional labor without direction.
They are opting out of being kept in holding patterns that quietly erode hope.

Burnout is not rebellion.
It is a signal.

And men feel it too. Overwhelmed by expectation. Unsure how to lead. Afraid of failing before they even begin.

When someone says, “I’m done with dating,” what I often hear underneath is exhaustion. Not from desire, but from dishonor. Dating without formation is unsustainable. Casual does not mean selfish.

Dating should be casual in posture, but sacred in motive. It should leave people better than how they were found.

Which brings me to something that struck me as I was lying in bed last night.

Dating has to begin with the belief that marriage is a very good thing, and that it is worth real effort, real risk, and real sacrifice to pursue.

Because when we believe something is worth attaining, we are willing to overcome obstacles to get there. We endure discomfort. We tolerate uncertainty. We stay present when things feel hard or imperfect.

But much of modern dating, especially in global cities, has quietly shifted from being aspirational toward marriage to being primarily social.

It is connection without direction.
Activity without conviction.
Desire without an end.

And I wonder if underneath the dating stall is something deeper than busyness or burnout.

I wonder if there is fear.

For many women, the fear is this: What if I am never chosen?
The numbers feel against them. The invitations are not coming. The silence feels personal. Hope begins to feel risky.

For many men, the fear is different but just as real. What if I cannot provide? What if I fail? What if I am not enough?

And some of those fears are legitimate. Our economy makes it incredibly difficult for a man to imagine providing in the traditional sense. The pressure is immense.

But here is what I hear from the heart of many women. Not perfection. Not certainty. Not a fully solved future.

What she longs for is this: I am worth taking a risk for. I am worth stepping into faith for. I do not need you to have it all figured out. I want to walk the journey of trusting God together.

She does not want to wait until everything is secure. She wants to be invited into shared dependence on a God who still provides daily manna.

And maybe that is the deeper invitation of dating done well.

To believe again, not just in romance, but in marriage itself.
To believe that covenant is worth the work.
That family is worth the risk.
That unity between men and women is worth fighting for.

Søren Kierkegaard once wrote:

“To dare is to lose one’s footing momentarily.
Not to dare is to lose oneself.”

Dating with the hope of marriage requires daring. It requires men and women willing to step forward, not perfectly, but honestly. Not fearlessly, but faithfully.

And when we date this way, when we pursue one another with intention, courage, and formation, we offer something powerful to a despairing world.

We display hope.
We declare that marriage still matters.
That love is not obsolete.
That covenant is not naïve.

And perhaps most importantly, we begin a quiet revolution of unity between men and women, one that heals mistrust, restores dignity, and revives families again.

Not by rushing.
Not by retreating.
But by choosing to believe that what God designed is still good, and still worth everything.