I feel like I’m at this point where I’m waiting for my life to begin. I’m as self aware as I can be, as religious as I’m prepared to be, and as mentally stable as I’ll ever be. I don’t know what G-d is waiting for.
I guess no one ever does. But this is different. I’m not praying for health or begging for money. I’m not asking for something that I may or may not receive. I’m not waiting on bated breath to be told that in actuality I descend from royalty.
I’m asking for my husband.
He has been destined to be since the beginning of time. I’m not asking for anything that cannot be received or that You are not willing to give. I’m not asking for anything unreasonable nor original.
I am asking for just one small thing. Just the one. So, G-d, here is my formal request.
Please send me the man who is going to be my best friend for the rest of our lives together. My partner in all the good times and the bad. The man whose puke I will clean when he has food poisoning. And whose fart stench I’ll pretend I don’t smell. The one who laughs at my stories and cries when I do. Please send me my loving and patient husband, whose right hand [wo]man I’ll be forevermore. Please send me my zivug. Please send me my bashert. Please send me my chosson. Don’t wait a year, or three, or five. Now is a good a time as any. Please. Send him to me now.
In the words of Tevye of Anatevka, “Would it spoil some vast eternal plan…” if I were a married woman?