My dear friend,

I want to continue our conversation from the last letter—what it means to be the Bride of Christ.
This time, though, I want to confess something deeper. You know I’ve been walking through a season of loneliness and fear. I’ve been scared to be alone, scared that I will never find the kind of love I long for, and scared of being left behind. And because you are like a personal friend to me, I want to be honest: some nights, the loneliness still crawls into my heart and whispers lies. But I’ve learned that speaking these things out loud—bringing them into the light—leaves no dark corner for the enemy to twist them. When lies surface, that becomes the moment God steps in to untangle them.

So today, I want to share part two of this journey.
How God is teaching me to be His bride before I become anyone else’s.

MISPLACED LONGINGS & MISPLACED HOPE

Not too long ago, I found myself feeling jealous—deep, aching envy—over couples I saw around me. They looked so happy, so secure, so complete. And I found myself thinking, Why not me, God? Why does everyone else have someone?

It’s embarrassing to admit, but this little ache sometimes grows louder at night. I would scroll through instagram to see photos of couples holding hands, eating dinner together, or laughing about something simple. And suddenly, that old ache rises: They have it. I don’t.
It’s not that I want to envy people—I don’t. But the longing inside me sometimes becomes so sharp that envy feels like the only language my heart can speak.

And then, as always, God’s grace meets me.
He gently convicts me when I begin to spiral.

A few nights later, I came across a testimony online—a young woman sharing her insecurity. She, too, thought marriage would fix everything… until after she married. She wrote, “When our source of love is in the hands of imperfect people (all humans are imperfect), we will also have a broken and insecure heart.”

Another post said, “For so long I sought after my boyfriend as my source of security and love.”
Then she linked a podcast titled “What It Means to Be the Bride of Christ.”

And friend, I knew. I knew God was confirming something in me:
This season is not punishment. It is preparation.
Not deprivation, but redirection.
Not emptiness, but invitation.

Psalm 73 spoke so deeply to me during this time. It begins with David confessing his envy at the prosperity he sees around him—how others seem to “have it all.” But then his heart turns, and the psalm ends with this revelation:

²¹ Then I realized that my heart was bitter,
    and I was all torn up inside.
²² I was so foolish and ignorant—
    I must have seemed like a senseless animal to you.
²³ Yet I still belong to you;
    you hold my right hand.
²⁴ You guide me with your counsel,
    leading me to a glorious destiny.
²⁵ Whom have I in heaven but you?
    I desire you more than anything on earth.
²⁶ My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak,
    but God remains the strength of my heart;
    he is mine forever.

That passage felt like a mirror.
It reminded me that every longing I have—every desire to be seen, cherished, and chosen—was created to be met by God first. When I try to fill a God-sized longing with human affection, it always leaks.

Loneliness isn’t punishment.
It’s an invitation.

God isn’t withholding love.
He’s redirecting it to Himself.

WHAT MARRIAGE TRULY IS (AND IS NOT)

Dearest friend, here’s the truth that has settled into my heart lately:
Marriage is not the end-goal of the Christian life.
It is a gift—holy, beautiful, God-designed.
But still a gift, not an identity.

We often grow up with the idea of “finding our other half,” of searching for someone who completes us. I grew up with Hollywood romcoms and happy-ending romance books, and before I realized it, I was internalizing the idea that someone else’s love was the key to my happiness.

But Scripture paints marriage so differently.

In Ephesians 5, Paul explains that marriage exists to reflect a greater reality:
Christ and the Church.

²⁵ For husbands, this means love your wives, just as Christ loved the church. He gave up his life for her ²⁶ to make her holy and clean, washed by the cleansing of God’s word.²⁷ He did this to present her to himself as a glorious church without a spot or wrinkle or any other blemish. Instead, she will be holy and without fault.

Earthly marriage is not about soulmates.
It is about covenant love—sacrificial love.

In fact, the whole “find your rib” (which usually refers to finding a fated connection, often with the idea that a piece of you is meant to be with your soulmate, as a part of you was given to them) we often hear comes from a misunderstanding. Adam sleeping and Eve being made from his rib was never meant to be a romantic trope.

Adam was a foreshadowing of Christ. Christ—the second Adam—was pierced in His side on the cross, and from His wound came the Church, His bride.

So biblical marriage is not about “two souls meant for each other.”
It is about Christ and the Church.
A shadow of the real thing.

Once I realized that, something broke open in me:
Marriage is not what makes me whole.
Christ is.

Before the gift of marriage, my truest identity is this:
I am the Bride of Christ.
I belong first to Jesus, not to a human being.

BEING WHOLE BEFORE MARRIAGE

Another thing God has been teaching me is this:
Healthy relationships are not 50 + 50 = 100.
They are 100 + 100 = 1.

Two whole people, rooted in Christ.
Two hearts already secure in the Lord.

People cannot complete us.
Only God can.

Humans are imperfect, fragile, and broken.
If I put all my hope on a spouse, or a boyfriend, or even future children, I will crush them under expectations they were never created to carry.

Jesus said, in Matthews 11:

²⁸ Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. ²⁹ Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. ³⁰ For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

We cling to people for reassurance.
We cling to relationships for safety.

But only He can carry the weight of my fears.
Only He can anchor my worth.

This letter is not just for single women.
It is also for the married who feel disappointed, drained, or guilty for expecting too much from one person. A spouse cannot be your Savior. Children cannot be your identity.

Only Christ can hold a heart completely.

A PERSONAL CONFESSION

I need to confess something vulnerable:
Recently, I lashed out at someone I really like. John Doe—confused and patient—listened to a version of me I wasn’t proud of.

I was upset because he didn’t respond fast enough.
Because he didn’t comfort me the way I expected.
Because he didn’t call me before bed.
Because he didn’t fill the loneliness I was carrying.

And as much as I write about depending on Jesus…
it is still so hard.

I grew up in a culture where constant communication meant love, and I placed that expectation on him without realizing it.

But after I calmed down, I felt convicted—deeply. And by God’s grace, he listened to my explanation and apology. I apologized for placing burdens on him that were never his to carry.

In the middle of pain and selfish tears, I suddenly felt words that shook me. Jesus already carried my shame, loneliness, insecurity, and fear. Why was I dumping it on someone else?

I realized I was not just longing for love—
I was demanding it.
Clinging to it.
Trying to extract from a human what only God could give.

I had been requiring John Doe to be my rock.

WHAT IT MEANS TO BE THE BRIDE OF CHRIST

The more I sit with God, the more I understand: Being the Bride of Christ is not poetry.
It is covenant.
It is intimacy.
It is pursuit.

Song of Songs reveals a God who does not love us distantly, but passionately—with desire, delight, and devotion. He calls us beloved. He draws near. He pursues.

Young Man

⁸ If you don’t know, O most beautiful woman,
    follow the trail of my flock,
    and graze your young goats by the shepherds’ tents.
⁹ You are as exciting, my darling,
    as a mare among Pharaoh’s stallions.
¹⁰ How lovely are your cheeks;
    your earrings set them afire!
How lovely is your neck,
    enhanced by a string of jewels.
¹¹ We will make for you earrings of gold
    and beads of silver.

Wow. He really wants my whole heart—not because He is controlling, but because He is the only one strong enough to hold it.

Before I become a bride to a man, I am learning that I must first become the Bride of Christ. Before someone else’s love adorns me, Christ’s love must anchor me. Before earthly intimacy enters my life, spiritual intimacy must transform it.

Because if I ever walk into a marriage unfinished, unhealed, and unwhole… I will bring expectations that crumble a relationship from the inside.

Christ wants to make me whole—so that one day, if He blesses me with marriage, I can love freely instead of cling anxiously, give instead of demand, serve instead of strive.

CLOSING REFLECTION

Marriage is beautiful.
But it is not the source of beauty.

Human love is wonderful.
But it is not the source of worth.

I am not behind.
I am not forgotten.
I am not less-than.
I am being prepared.

Revelation 19 paints the final picture—the Bride, prepared for the Lamb, radiant and ready. That is our end-goal. That is the love story we were made for.

⁶ Then I heard again what sounded like the shout of a vast crowd or the roar of mighty ocean waves or the crash of loud thunder:

“Praise the Lord!
    For the Lord our God, the Almighty, reigns.
⁷ Let us be glad and rejoice,
    and let us give honor to him.
For the time has come for the wedding feast of the Lamb,
    and his bride has prepared herself.
⁸ She has been given the finest of pure white linen to wear.”
    For the fine linen represents the good deeds of God’s holy people.

⁹ And the angel said to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding feast of the Lamb.” And he added, “These are true words that come from God.”

My wholeness begins here.
My purpose begins now.
My belonging begins in Him.

May my loneliness become holy space.
May my longing become worship.
May my waiting become preparation.

I do not want to wait for a human to make me whole.
I want to be the Bride of Christ first.
Everything else—marriage included—will then flow from that place.

A PRAYER

Lord Jesus,
Make me whole in Your love.
Teach me to lay down every
misplaced longing at Your feet.

Heal the parts of me that still
seek completion in others.
Prepare my heart as Your bride—
faithful, rooted, cherished, secure.
Give me the strength to release
every burden no human was meant to carry.

Let my waiting become worship,
and my longing become devotion.
Whom have I in heaven but You?
You are the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.

Amen.

My dear friend, I’m learning this slowly, imperfectly, but honestly. And I’m grateful you’re alongside me— learning to be the Bride of Christ, one surrender at a time.