Being single is more than ok

Eliza McEwin shares her experience of being single. Interview by Kaley Payne.

singleI’ve known people who say they’re “single for the sake of the Gospel”. That’s not me. I’m just single. I’m 40 years old, not married, with no children. And that’s okay.

When I was in my mid-twenties, I found out I couldn’t have children. Couldn’t conceive, and couldn’t carry. So I’ve known for a long time that my life wouldn’t look like most of my friends. Looking back on it now, I think it was a blessing to find out then, rather than later.

In your early twenties, you’re young; your ideas about what your life will look like aren’t fully formed or set in stone. But when I got the news that I could never have children, it still turned everything I thought upside down. I had to rethink everything—what does this actually mean for me?

I believe children are a gift from God: that God has given women a desire to nurture and to mother. I think that’s how we’re made. So finding out I wouldn’t be able to do that got me thinking: I won’t have children. And it’s possible I might stay single.

Christian men, in my dating experience, find it very hard to think beyond the biological child. There comes a point in the relationships I’ve had where I’ve had to say that I can’t have kids. And in my experience, that’s a deal-breaker.

It’s happened several times. Each time I say it earlier—I’ve learned not to get emotionally invested until it’s been said, and there’s been a response. I can’t afford to do anything else.

Eventually, I had to decide how I would respond to this news, and this possibility of being single. Will I live well or will I be bitter? I wanted to accept what God had given me, and find a way of being godly where he’s put me.

At the same time I was figuring all this out, my friends were getting married, and starting their families. It took a while to go from thinking ‘this is just so unfair’, to ‘Okay, I can manage this’.

I’d become aware in my church life that children could be an idol. And even the pursuit of marriage can be idolatrous. Bible college for me was the worst example of this. There was a notion in the student body that if you’re single, you need to get married and have children. There was a lot of pressure – ungodly pressure I think.

I’ve been engaged, and I called off the wedding because he was not being honest about himself. I knew at the time I called it off that I may never have another opportunity to get married. But I knew too it would be better to be single than marry this man. It was painful, but I’ve never regretted that. The pressure to be married can’t be as strong as the desire to do what is right by God.

I won’t lie and say all this was easy. It was really hard. But eventually, I started to think outside the box: I’ve got this God-given desire to nurture and mother and to love, so what are the ways I can use this gift that might be helpful to other people, and helpful to me?

My favourite thing in the whole world is meeting in a small group or one-on-one to read the Bible and pray together: discipling women, walking alongside them and sharing our lives. I get to do that in a far greater capacity now than I would have if I was married and had children. I have the time to spend doing that stuff.

From when I was 19 and led my first small group, to now meeting up with lovely women from my church several times a month, I can see how God has provided lots of opportunities over a very long time, to express love and my nurture/mother desire in different ways.

I can see how God gives me opportunities even in the smallest of ways—like at church, where I’m free to move around and talk to people, without wondering where my child is.

Or the blessing of sitting alone and noticing a new person at church sitting alone too, that I can welcome and sit with. I love to do that, and I’m always looking for opportunities to use what God has given me.

One thing I struggle with is the assumptions people make about me. I find people project onto me what they would think if they were single.

People assume I’m unhappy to be single. That I must be this, or I must be that. Christian people in particular do this a lot.

In my ‘secular world’—at work, or at university—long-term monogamy is not the norm. I’m not weird or strange or anywhere near the minority. I’m single, yes, but so are a lot of people. I don’t feel there are nearly as many assumptions made about my relationship status outside the church as there are within it.

I’ve never wanted my singleness to be the elephant in the room. I’m quite open about my life. Sometimes, though, if I’m tired, questions like “But don’t you want to be married?” can grate on me. I think it’s God’s way of teaching me that I need to learn to be more patient with people, to love them and understand that a lot of the time, it’s not actually about me. It’s their own insecurity that they haven’t dealt with. I have, and I’m okay with it.

Many of my friends have been around for a long time. They saw me go through the hard times, and my struggles. Since then, they have been generous and share their families with me.

Being part of their lives—as a godmother, a close ‘aunt’ or just a friend—is their way of helping me be godly in my own life. I’m very happy for them, and I don’t feel like I’m missing out, because they’ve made me a part of it.

Do I want to get married? Sure, if the right guy comes along, who loves Jesus, and is an honest and faithful man. I’m open to that possibility, but I’m not looking. And it’s not what defines me.

My relationship with God has benefitted from being single. I talk to him more because I live on my own. I read my Bible more too.

There is great comfort in the Bible. We meet so many different people, which is one of the things I love about the Bible.

Some people in the Bible are married, some are single. Some have children, some do not. But they’re all human, they all sin and Jesus died for them all. The Bible is honest—it doesn’t gloss over anything. But God manages it. And there’s always a way, even if we don’t get it.

My goal in life is to be like Jesus as much as I can. Whatever state I’m in—and at the moment, that’s single with no children—there’s still a place for me in God’s kingdom. So, I’ll try to be like Jesus and love whoever is around me at the time.

I’m God’s child, and I’m part of God’s story. I will be if I get married. And I will be if I stay single. That’s more than okay. That’s the only thing that matters.