Baptists Psychics (in regards to me, alone under the mistletoe)

Merry Christmas, deck the halls, thank you for the fudge, yada-yada-yada.

I have an irascible query.

(Well, not really, but I'm trying to get out of the habit of hemorraghing anger onto the pages of my blog. So, instead, I was in a funk last night, I'm over it tonight, but I still think it needs to be said. Tonight I'm saying it with firm, yet gracious patience. Last night I would have said it with vehement rhetoric. So instead...)

I just have a inquisitive question.

Why, in the name of all that is good and holy, do people pat me on the arm and tell me:

"Don't worry, there is wonderful guy out there for you..."

First, I'm not worried. Please don't assume I'm worried.

And second... how on EARTH do they know that?!? Seriously, is there some weird, Baptist, psychic ability that allows people to see that somewhere, out there in the distant (or not so distant) future, there is a "wonderful guy" for lil' ol' me? Because if they can tell me that, with all honest sincerity, then I need to ask them some tough questions... like:

"So, am I really going to finish grad school?"
"What are the side-effects going to be of my purchasing those insanely high heels?"
"Should I go vegan?"

Because if they can see, with that degree of clarity into the future-- baby, we've got to use that gift! Why does anyone think that it would be a good idea to assure me that there is, in fact, someone waiting for me in my future?

There might not be.

And whenever I respond with, "Aww, thank you, but if there isn't- isn't God still good?" I get expressions of taken-aback confusion.

Yes, I would love a time in the future when I read the Christmas story to wondering little faces, before snuggling with my honey in front of a fire after (finally!) decorating the tree. I would love to instigate new traditions and carry out old ones. And the cute, artsy side of me, that only peaks out when I'm well-rested and over-achieving, imagines all sorts of new family goodies and Christmas cards.

But that may never be me. And if that's the case, then that is the way in which I can bring God the most glory! And I know it is there because it also brings me the most good. Not good in the way of eating-spinach-good, but rather in the way of sheer-unadulterated-joy-good.

So, no, I won't worry, wonderful people-who-care-about-me-and-sincerely-believe-they-are saying-something-encouraging. Because even if your psychic powers fail, and there really, truly isn't a "wonderful man out there" for me, I think life is still going to be pretty stinkin' awesome.

Merry Christmas Eve of the Christmas Eve's Eve!