I was curled in bed, just now, and I found myself making a request to God. I said to Him, "I am ready to not sleep alone," that was what my head said, but my heart clarified: I am ready for love.I meant it. I think the reason I look so forward to motherhood (over marriage) is because its acceptable reckless abandon; I can love until my last breath and it will never be foolish to do so. I'd never even realized I felt that way until right now. The poison of fear seeps into corners of your consciousness with such ease and arrogance. I want to love my husband in that way, in a never ending and infinite sort of way but everything tells me that's wrong. Share your life but not your money. Tell him your dreams but not all your thoughts. My thoughts of love are drenched, soaking in fear. I don't want to be that way. If he takes all my money so what? My treasure does not lie here, but is stored in heaven. (How many people just frowned at that thought?) I wonder if I am in the vast majority or minority of women too afraid to be hurt to love. Really love. What if Christ had loved like many of us enter relationships? I have had my heart broken before. I survived. I do not fear heartbreak. I have been vulnerable before, and I've had my trust betrayed. I survived. I do not fear intimacy. I have lost money, time, innocence all in the name of love. I survived and I do not fear poverty, the unknown, or living. If I stay focused on Him. My center. My rock. Then I will always be okay, better than okay. I will thrive. I am thriving now. In my bed, alone. And I'm not afraid to say again, I am ready not to sleep alone. I am ready for love. May we bump into each other blindly, Lord, with both our eyes fixed on you.