In case you've lived your whole life either in a place with Central AC, or in a place like where I grew up where the temperature mercifully cools down at night and you can open your window for a nice cool night breeze, let me tell you about window unit air conditioners (which will henceforth be called "AC units").
AC units are pretty much densely heavy boxes with flimsy long wings. They are awkward to carry even in the best of circumstances, and downright maddening to carry up two flights of narrow, winding staircases. Once you have retrieved them from the basement, you open up a window and attempt to install this insanely heavy piece of equipment while dangling it just fractions of an inch away from a point where it would drop and destroy anything unfortunate enough that is lying in wait beneath it. And to exacerbate this issue, if you've procrastinated on installing, you're also dying of heat as you install, so there is a slight hint of hurry and desperation tinging the whole task as you literally drip with sweat.
Installing AC units is pretty much my least favorite of all tasks. I would rather change my nephew's poopy diaper than install an AC unit. I would rather scrub my bathtub with a toothbrush than install an AC unit.
And so, every spring, as I begin to dread the thought of hauling the AC units up from the basement, my mind turns on this delicious fantasy. In my fantasy, I am not a single woman with a female roommate, but am instead a married woman with a husband who will accomplish the dreaded AC task for me.
Such a nice fantasy. In my fantasy, I sleep in cool, dry air without lifting a finger after my ever-so-attentive husband goes to the basement to fetch the air conditioner.
This spring (spring being what we call the one week of decent weather between the frigid winter and the high heat and humidity of summer), I kicked myself for once again forgetting to go out and find a boyfriend who could install the AC unit for me. But as my mind ascended into fantasy mode, I caught myself and went from "chick flick" mode to "reality" mode. Who's to say that my husband would even remember to install the AC unit? Or what if he didn't like sleeping with AC? Or what if I asked him to do it, but he was busy, and three days later I ended up doing it anyway and then was also resentful that I had to do it? If I've learned anything from talking to my married friends, it's that husbands certainly do not read your mind, nor do they always do every task requested of them. And my married friends have AWESOME husbands who love them and their children, but they are just people who also hate installing AC units.
As single women... well actually as women, and men too for that matter, we fantasize a lot about what our lives would be like if we didn't have to live our lives, but could instead live someone else's life. We dream about what it would be like to have a bigger apartment, or in-suite laundry, or to own our own place or to have a yard or to be married (if we're single) or single (if we're married), or to have a different job or a different figure or more money or less debt or [insert your own daydreams here].
We tend to get fixated on the parts of our own lives that we don't like (installing AC units), and imagine that if we were living someone else's life that we would be rid of that nuisance. And that might be true, but we fail to take into account the whole picture. In the short-term, this can lead to discontentment and disillusionment. In the long-term, we either become bitter and doubt God's goodness, or we actually pursue whatever that thing is that we long for to our own detriment.
Suppose I really desperately wanted a husband to install my AC unit (and ignored the fact that it would be easier and quicker to hire someone on TaskRabbit). I might start to ignore the things I love about being single, lower my standards, and fall for someone who isn't going to be who I really need for the long term.
Another example might be wanting a new job with a higher salary. In the short term, being overly fixated on wanting more money may impact our attitude and thus our performance. In the long term, we may find that higher paying job but the hours may be worse or the culture might not be a good fit. Being narrowly fixated on salary leads us to discount the things about our present situation that are bringing us joy.
There's a reason that "do not envy" made the top ten list of sins to avoid (Deuteronomy 5:21). Envy erodes our relationships with one another as we become resentful that others have things that we want and think we deserve. Envy also leads us to believe that God is not being good to us, and can erode our relationship with him because we think he is holding out on us.
The antidote to envy is gratitude for God's goodness in our lives. Psalm 34:8 tells us to "taste and see that the LORD is good!" And later in verse 10: "The young lions suffer want and hunger; but those who seek the LORD lack no good thing."
Do we believe this? Do we make a practice of looking at our lives and seeing that we lack no good thing? Or do we make it a practice to look at what we want and feel like we're missing out?
A few weeks ago, I was at a wedding, and the last song rolled around. The DJ called everyone up on the dance floor, and I was anticipating something fun like Journey's Don't Stop Believing (because, side note, it's my firm belief that every good night ends with that song). Instead, the soft, slow strains of Ed Sheeran's Perfect started to come out of the speakers. I jokingly wrapped my arms around myself and started swaying to the music, but as all my friends paired off with their spouses and started to dance, I quietly snuck off the dance floor and went and stood underneath the stars.
It was one of those moments where the fantasies started to threaten to kick in. "What if I had someone to dance with? I'm missing out." But rather than escape to a world of fantasy, I let myself just feel what I was feeling. Yes, in that moment, I longed to have someone to share that song with. But one of the gifts of singleness is that I get these stark moments that remind me of longings that point me to Christ and what will ultimately be fulfilled when I am united with him one day in glory. I am deeply loved, and viewed as Perfect. Not because of what I did, but because of what He did for me on the cross. And every longing of my heart points to something that will be fulfilled.
