Maybe Right Now, Your Journey Isn’t About Love, It’s About God

You thought that by now, love would have cracked within your heart, would have arrived at your doorstep. 

Because the truth is — you have been calling in deeper connection for as long as you can remember. You have been praying for it since you knew how to call it by its name. You’ve prepared your heart. You have grown it. You have let go of the things that weigh heavy within it. You have told the truth about your past, you have turned it over inside of yourself. You have tried to become more aware, more honest, more rooted, and still, you feel like the one who is always becoming, and never arriving. Still, the love you are hoping for hasn’t found you, hasn’t met you where you are.

It’s deeply human to start questioning yourself in this kind of waiting. It is human to wonder if your heart beats too loudly in this world. It is human to wonder if you are too late, or too unfinished, to be worthy of good love. It is human to assume that there is more to heal, or more to grow within, or more to endure, in order to find your counterpart. So, you pray harder. You soften more. You learn how to hold your own hand through the quiet, how to be your own safe place, but the desire still aches within you, the longing still hums. 

But what if this season isn’t about who is coming into your life?

What if this season is about what is being built within it? Within you?

What if this season isn’t about love at all — at least, not in the way you thought? What if right now, your journey is about learning how to live like you are already loved? Not by another human being. Not by the version of your life that is still out of reach. But here, and now. Without conditions. Without needing to edit yourself down or will change into your atmosphere. What if this season is about God, and the kind of relationship that anchors you before anyone else is anchored beside you? 

Because the love you are praying for will not always be light and easy, it will not always be virtuous and light-filled. It will be real. It will require strength, it will require self-awareness, and compassion, and the kind of depth that comes from the most honest part of you. It will ask you to be steady enough to hold space for another person’s humanity. It will ask you to understand yourself well enough to stay grounded and tender when things get hard, when hope darkens. 

At the end of the day, maybe that’s what this part is really about. Not the absence of love, but the practice of becoming someone who can receive it without losing yourself inside of it.

This isn’t your heart’s waiting room. This is its preparation. This is where you learn how to stop roping your identity to someone else’s willingness to choose you. This is where you learn how to feel chosen in who you are, in what your soul was bred from. This is where you learn how to be proud of your progress as a human being, even when there is no one else there to clap for it. This is where you learn how to feel at home in your own life, in your softness, before inviting anyone else into it. 

It is okay to want love. It is okay to feel the weight of its absence. Still, don’t forget what is already here. Do not rush by the peace that is still available to you right now. Do not miss the growth that is happening beneath the surface of your life just because it isn’t being witnessed yet. This part of your story is not less sacred. It is not less full. It is not less meaningful just because you do not have someone to share it with. You are not falling behind. You are not being punished. You are not any less whole just because your heart has yet to be chosen.

Love will come. You will experience that kind of beauty, that kind of tenderness. But right now, it is okay if your life isn’t rooted in that experience yet. Right now, this chapter is about you and God, and that is not meaningless — that is the foundation of everything. That is where your greatest love story actually begins.