She’s that illustrious goddess of domesticity. Her husband is crazy about her, the kids adore her, she is business-savvy, Martha Stewart, Paula Dean, Mother Theresa and Jackie Kennedy all rolled into one. The epitome of poise, her house beautifully decorated, her table laden with healthy and delicious foods, her family’s needs all met, and her entrepreneurial spirit bringing in a little extra cash. At least, that’s how we usually picture the Proverbs 31 woman.

The air was a bit close in the room where they all sat, stuffed around a low table, relaxing as the meal came to a close. The candlelight flickered off the walls of the little abode, and the conversation has dropped to a low murmur. The door hesitatingly creaked open, and a small woman slipped in, carrying a vessel in her hands. Eyes followed her movement across the room, past the men, and to the head of the table. She was intruding in a man’s world, this small woman with her small box.

Down through Bible history, we find women who waited. Should we think it strange when we have to wait for what God has for us?

When we use the word ‘hope’ today, we usually mean that we ‘wish very hard’ for something to happen, although you might have varying degrees of intensity to your wishing. “I hope it doesn’t rain.” “I hope they put chicken on sale.” “I hope to get married one day.” The Bible use of the word ‘hope’, however, is vastly different.

Armed with her GPS, her glovebox stuffed with backup maps, and a full tank of gas, Sheila headed for the turnpike. “Ah, I love road trips!” she said, windows down to the spring breeze and her favorite artists singing through the stereo. Entrance ramps ahead, she glanced in her mirror and changed lanes. “WAIT! Where am I going?” she thought.

And thus begins February, the month of love. Chocolates, flowers, hearts, everything pink and glittery and romantic – all pointing to one particular holiday that some of my friends like to call “Single Awareness Day.” Perhaps the most depressing day of the year for a single girl, one might feel like all the married people are taunting with their relationship status. Every decoration, every bunch of roses, every couple with starry gazes just reminds you that you are yet single and unattached. There’s no one to send you chocolates and flowers.

The whole family is gathered together. Twinkling lights reflect in children’s eyes as they gather around and Grandpa reads the Christmas story. There is hot apple cider to sip and fresh cookies to munch. Then the fun begins – it’s gift time! The gifts are distributed, and soon it is your turn. You open a soft, lumpy package from your Great Aunt Martha. It’s a… sweater! Yes, a sweater in a color that you despise, in that odd 90’s style that is definitely not modern, but not yet vintage, and hence, a style you would not be caught dead in. Worst of all, there are rabbits embroidered around the bottom edge. Too kitschy, too outdated, too childish, too UGLY. Now what happens?

I think one of the hardest things that a single woman struggles with is the whole issue of security. It is a many-faceted problem, and one that we often think would be solved by getting married. “If only I had a husband, then I would have someone to take care of me, someone to share my burdens. If only I was married, I would have financial security, a place to live, someone to love me unconditionally, and someone else to just be in charge and make the decisions for me!”