All I Want

Most nights, it’s not just the quiet that gets to me — it’s the stuff I’m consuming

without even thinking. Watching rom-coms, scrolling through TikToks about "perfect love stories," seeing any kind of media with romance in it. It triggers something in me.

And honestly, it happens a lot. Especially when I'm not busy and my mind has space to wander. I'll be laying there at night, and instead of just enjoying the movie or the story, I start fantasizing about the intimate side of marriage.

Not the cute everyday stuff like grocery shopping or laughing at inside jokes, but the physical closeness—the part nobody really talks about in church unless it’s to say,

“Wait until marriage.”

A couple reading together at a cafe.

And in those moments, even though I know what God says is best, it feels almost impossible to choose Him over the immediate pleasure of giving into those thoughts.

I want to choose God. I really do. I want to honor Him with my mind and my heart. But when I’m caught in the moment—when the feelings are so strong and the fantasy feels so comforting—I don't always choose Him.

Honestly, that’s a hard thing to admit.

And if I'm being really real, my struggle with lust was actually one of the first reasons I started desiring marriage in the first place. I didn’t grow up dreaming about weddings or picking out baby names.

I just wanted a way to stop feeling like I was constantly battling my own body and thoughts. Marriage, in my mind, became a "solution" to my sin—a way to make the longing go away without giving up the good desires God put in me.

Over time, God was kind enough to grow my heart and reshape my view of marriage. He showed me that marriage is about partnership, about serving and sacrificing, about reflecting His love to another person. It’s about building something that points back to Him. And my reasons for wanting marriage slowly shifted into better ones.

But if I’m being totally honest, that old root still lingers under the surface. There’s still a part of me that longs for marriage simply because I don’t want to keep fighting this battle. And the thing is—that's not wrong.

It’s not bad to want intimacy.

It’s not bad to want to be held, to be loved, to have someone to come home to at the end of the day.

God designed those desires. He called them good. The problem is when I start to believe that marriage will fix all the ache inside me—that if I just had a husband, I wouldn’t struggle anymore. That’s where my thinking gets off track.

Because at the core of it, my problem isn’t singleness. My problem isn’t even lust. My real struggle is

TRUST

I’m struggling to believe that God is enough for me right now, as I am, without a husband, without physical closeness, without the life I sometimes daydream about.

A couple walking through the mall hand in hand

It’s so easy to believe lies when you’re tired and longing and lonely. It’s easy to walk along the riverwalk and see couples holding hands, laughing together on a sunny afternoon, and feel that ache rise up.

It’s easy to see couples having picnics, taking sweet photos of each other, looking so in love—and wonder, "God, why not me?" It’s easy to believe that if I just had someone—someone to hug me, to hold me, to walk through life with—then I would finally be okay.

But that’s not what God promises. He doesn’t promise marriage. He doesn’t promise someone to hold my hand through the hard days.

What He promises is Himself. His nearness. His sufficiency. His love that holds tighter and stays longer than any human ever could.

And that’s the real battle: learning to believe that He is enough. Learning to sit with the ache and still say, “You are good.” Learning to let the longing turn me toward Him instead of away from Him.

I wish I could say I do this perfectly. I wish I could say that after all this wrestling, I never struggle anymore. But I do. Some nights, I whisper prayers through tears.

Some nights, I fall into temptation and have to come running back to His mercy.

Some nights, I feel strong.

Other nights, I feel like a mess.

But here’s the thing: God isn’t shocked by my struggle. He’s not disappointed in my humanity. He’s not grading me on how well I handle my singleness. He’s walking with me through it, patient and kind, always calling me

back to Himself.

And if you’re struggling too — if you’re tired of feeling like you should be "past this" by now—hear me: You are not alone. You are not broken. Your battle doesn't disqualify you from being deeply loved by God.

Marriage is a good gift.

An elderly couple looking out over the city

Physical intimacy is a good gift.

But they aren’t the cure for loneliness. They aren’t the cure for lust. They aren’t the cure for the ache that only Jesus was meant to fill.

So I’m learning, slowly and clumsily, to keep bringing my longing back to Him. To let Him meet me in the empty spaces. To believe that He really is enough—even when it’s hard.

Especially when it’s hard.