Marrying Off a ‘Potential.’


A single friend of mine invented this word, and I’m going with it. We agree – it’s the best word to describe this category of people in our lives.

Potentials are people whom we might have shared a future with, we’ve spent time with them, and even more time praying over them, and the most time dreaming of a life together.

And then they marry someone else.

It’s an odd thing to ‘marry off a potential.’ To watch them choose love in another lane, to see the hoopla over their pictures and attire, their entrance and exit, their joy now complete, and to fight the notion that it ‘should have been yours.’ To watch a Potential get married, and incidentally, to know they’re for sure having sex now, regardless of whether they were before… well, it’s a whole other thing to try not to obsess about.

There was this man.  Well, there is this man.  He’s still alive.  He exists, hence the present tense verb.  I thought I was going to marry him.

And I’m not the only one who thought so – many, many people thought so.  There are pages in my journal, one confirmation after another – through people and Scripture and events – that couldn’t be coincidences.  I practically had our names inscribed in a wedding cake serving set.

But he married someone else.

So there’s that.

Insert: Faith Crisis.  What were all those confirmations?  Who is this voice I was listening to, the one I know, the voice that has been true other times in my life and seemed so on track this time?  What the… what?

I don’t know.  I have no idea.  A whole psalm could be written about me right now, the girl who thought she knew the end of the story.  But here’s the thing about the agency of free will: God could have given me all those arrows pointing in that direction, but the man in question still had his own decision to make.  And that right there is the Game Changer.

The strangest kind of Potential is when he didn’t even know he was one. When it was perhaps all a one-sided love affair in my mind. That’s an odd one to process.

Not even sad, necessarily. Just… odd.

Back to the drawing board.

This Is Not A Movie Review.

Do you know what is really great?  When someone knows you well enough to know exactly what movie you would absolutely enjoy.

When you say, “You choose.  Surprise me.”  And then he does.  With complete and perfect accuracy.

Somehow, on this night, it’s better than having someone prepare a meal they think I’ll like. It’s better than someone buying me an accessory that will become my favorite go-to. A movie is a shared experience; it has a beginning, middle, and end, flavors to savor, and it can be the perfect accessory to an evening with someone you enjoy to your core.

Here’s what I’m loving about tonight’s choice.

It’s the story of coming of age, of transcending friendship. And what do I love more than friendships that spell yes and forever?

It’s the story of a man and woman who are best friends. And this always, always, always fascinates me.

It’s this nugget of Hollywood that’s woven with so much wisdom that I can’t really catch it all. I scrambled to Google during a quick check-on-the-kids intermission so I could find some of these great quotes that still lingered in the air.

It’s a love story. And there is something so real, so everyday, and so unscripted about the affection between this man and woman. I could imagine it, believe in it, step right into it.

Maybe that’s because I’ve lived it. (And I’m hungry to live it again.)

I whispered, “I love this movie. Love, love this movie.”
And he whispered, “I knew you would.”

(If you’re hoping I’m going to tell you the title, I’m sorry to disappoint.  But I just can’t bear someone telling me, “Yeah, it did nothing for me.  I give it a B-.  What else ya’ got?”  Nope. Holding on to that little treasure for now.  Go somewhere else for your movie reviews.  I’m the girl who tells the story and paints the scene.  Without apology.)

So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to watch the special features, deleted scenes, commentaries, and perhaps the entire blessed movie again, beginning to end.

When the Calendar Unfolds, and You Disobey.

That moment – actually, a full day that can consume the days around it – when the calendar unfolds to the birthday of someone you have loved.


Not someone you have loved who is gone now.  No, someone you have loved who is very much here and very much celebrating with other people who are not you.


That moment when you want to celebrate with them, send flowers or a gift or a balloon or an inside joke, and you decide you can’t because the gift isn’t greater than the mixed messages and the follow up conversations to come that will only break your heart.


That moment.  That day.  When you choose not to obey your heart.

“Why Aren’t You Married?”

Here’s a favorite question for those of us who are single:

“Why aren’t you married yet?  I just can’t figure it out.”


Let me tell you the subtext of this question.


“Why aren’t you married?  I mean, you look like you’d be a reasonably desirable person, so why hasn’t someone snatched you right up?  You must have some hidden baggage or issues that only emerges when you’re in a relationship long enough for such skeletons to step out.  It’s probably that.  It’s probably that I just can’t see what’s wrong with you.  Because you look like someone who should be married, and you’re not, and that just puzzles me.”


We don’t know why we’re not married.


Unless we don’t want to be, since marriage is not in fact the end-all-be-all of life, even though all the married folks want all the singles to join the club as quickly as possible.  They wonder why we haven’t yet, or why we haven’t dove in again.  (I was married.  I was guilty of this presumption.)  Our culture creates space for couples first.  So many things in pairs.  One for yourself, one to share. His and hers.  It seems like everybody’s waiting to cross the finish line of the singles’ race.


Aside from that, there’s the curse of the ‘nice girl.’


Nice girls don’t date a whole lot.  Want to know why?  We have the curse of being his best friend, the one he wants to marry when it’s time, the one he’ll be ready for when he settles down, but not the one he wants to be with while he has all this freedom and space to figure himself out.


No, for now he’ll stick with his girfriend, but he’d sure love for you to wait in the wings and stay close by.  ‘Cause when things don’t work out for the long term with the Little Miss, then that’s when your love story will begin.


(It’s been true for all of the dating years of my whole life.)


Girls are like apples on trees.  The best ones are at the top of the tree.  It can be scary for a man to go for the good ones because might fall and get hurt. Instead, he takes the apples from the ground that might not be as great on the inside, but they’re easy to find and hold.  So the apples at the top of the tree think something is wrong with them, but in reality, they are amazing.  They just have to wait for the right one to come along, one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

~ anonymous

What Should I Avoid While Taking Ambien?

 Ambien may impair your thinking or reactions.  You may still feel sleepy the morning after taking this medicine, especially if you are a woman.  Wait until you are fully awake before you drive, operate machinery, pilot an airplane, or do anything that requires you to be awake and alert.  Amnesia is common if you do not get a full 7-8 hours of sleep after taking Ambien.


 I would also add this:


Since the above paragraph suggests you may have impaired judgment, you may not be alert, and you may experience amnesia if you wake during the expected 7-8 hours of sleep,

stay off the freaking phone while you are under the effects of Ambien.

Specifically, do not talk for three hours to someone with whom you’ve especially decided not to define a relationship.

Your lack of judgment will remove all filters of sensibility.

You will say more than any self-respecting girl would say.

And you will not remember.

(If you are lucky, he will be gracious to tell you what you said and carefully help you step off the ledge of freaking out.)

But seriously.  Just.  Don’t.