Tonight I walked around downtown Querétaro in this lovely weather, listening to an indigenous group beat drums and dance in the distance, watching the giant glorious clouds turn from white to yellow to orange to blue as the sun set over this magnificent almost 500 year old city.  We stepped into one of the nearby Catholic churches to witness the end of a service. The air was thick with incense, and the bells rang during a priestly traditional prayer.

It’s in romantic and beautiful moments like these that I most long for a life-partner. I felt the same way when I was in China two years ago. You’d think it would be the opposite, right? Since I’m having the time of my life, I shouldn’t feel like I’m missing something at all. But I do. I feel the pang of that longing the most on trips like this. I’m just guessing here, but maybe I long for intimacy more in these contexts because having left everything familiar, it’s a constant schedule of new people, new interactions, and building trust and relationship. I want the security of someone who knows me, loves me, and can share in this experience with me.

Inside of longing though, there’s always an invitation.

There’s an invitation for me not to shame myself for desiring something so normal as a romantic partner.

There’s an invitation for me to take a chance on my teammates in letting them love me, know me, and share this experience with me.

Most of all, God is right there in my longing, saying, “Oh my sweet girl, this sunset is my gift for your eyes. The cool breeze is my tender kisses on your cheeks. The beat of the drums is a reminder to your bones that you’re alive and well. Laughter is the salve to wash over your thirsty soul. I am your everything, my darling. I am all around you. I am in you. I am with you. Let me be your closeness.”

He is so romantic to me.

On a lot of Global Projects, we study the book of Philippians because if any book will set you straight about life following Jesus in community, it’s that one. And every time, it hits me differently. But on both my China trip and this one, Paul’s letter to the Philippians pinned me at my idols.

Paul says from prison, “I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I might gain Christ and be found in him…”

Ugh, Paul. Why you gotta be like that? CALLING. ME. OUT.

For me, the formula for Life has often been: Jesus+something.
A lot of times, that something is a husband. I have lived like I believed that I could not experience real Life until I was married.

WRONGO, Bridget.

Life=Jesus
Jesus=Life
That’s it. Everything is worth losing for the sake of gaining Jesus. Everything is trash compared to him. I know that sounds harsh, but honestly, it frees me from the lie that I am incomplete without a husband.
Husband=trash
Ok, just kidding, but you get it, right?

It’s wonderful to be on trips like this because I need to remember the truth-
that my God is so romantic and he’s everything I need. And if he wants to give me someone to share life with, he will, but that man will only be a bonus. He will not be my everything, ever.

I’ve already got everything I need. I just need to make sure to pay attention, and say yes to God’s invitation to losing it all to know him. It’s a good trade, I’m sure of it.

These people are dancing, I promise: