God’s honing methods continue to vary, but my struggles with singleness itself continue much as they ever have, with this one exception: I have made my peace with the future spectre of living all my days as a “spinster” or “old maid.” Those two words and the connotations they evoked used to strike terror in my soul. At last, after years and years of running from the possibility that I may never know the love of a godly man, I told the Lord, “Yes. You’ll just have to take care of me.” Yet I must be honest and add that I still continue to hope celibacy will not always be my lot. Nevertheless I
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