Dear (possible) future husband

Wedding Rings on Marriage dictionary page

Wimbledon is one of those places everyone knows. That’s because everyone watches the tennis, whether because they like it or because it’s one of the events of the season that are accessible to people who read Tatler but are not a) nobility b) a model c) the golden bachelor of the Tory party. Or because they are Swiss, therefore The King. Many may not be familiar with it but by name. It’s in London, Zone 3, but it looks like you’re in a not-so-posh town in Middle England except that it has red buses that say ‘Clapham Common’ on the front and the average property in the area towards the tennis club is in the region of a million at least. I was the only person out at about 10 am without a pram. It’s a place for yummy-mummies. And of course, I’m not one.

I’m still the Bridget Jones of the Tory party, Catholic in the city, navigating life and the quest for Mr Darcy without a Daniel Cleaver to see my underwear or cigarettes, but with definitely too much alcohol. Maybe one day someone will find my awkwardness endearing and complementary to their reindeer sweaters on Christmas day. In the meantime, this letter is for him.


Dear (possible) future husband,

I am going to start off by saying I’m not sorry. 

I’m not sorry for my past. For giving my heart away one too many times. That’s what made me who I am, the person you’ll love. Maybe you are a cradle Catholic who has always known the value of chastity and kept God at the centre of his life. Or maybe you are a convert who has shared many beds while guarding his heart jealously. Maybe you haven’t met the Lord yet, but He has plans for you. In His wisdom, he chose you for me, and your past doesn’t matter, nor does mine, because He knows what He is doing. I’ve had a twisted perception of men, and a hard time to trust. I’m not making you an idol* because your imperfections are what I’ll love about you.

{* unless you are a certain Doctor, I’ve definitely done it}

I’m not sorry for my present. I’m head over heels in love with Jesus. I have a passion for history that I’m following in my degree, and I work really hard in charity and politics to make the world a better place. I’m not a “ravenous wolf”, but I crave fulfilment. I’m constantly searching instead of being patient, and it’s probably my biggest fault. But I’m learning to trust in God’s timing, and that’s what matters. I’m not sorry about not praying for you constantly. The Lord knows what’s in my heart before I even ask, and I have friends and family and there are people in need and honestly, I’m really worried about my brothers and sisters in the Middle East. Unless you too are fleeing danger then I’m sure my petitions are not so urgent. It just makes me not obsessed about you.

I’m not sorry for my future mistakes, everyone makes them including you. We all fall short of the standards that the Lord set for us. Maybe, at times, I haven’t been submissive, but you haven’t loved me as Christ loved His church either. My emotions drive me often, and if I’ve harmed you I’m sorry. I may have believed lies and not listened to truth, and not followed through on things I promised but that’s called being human. I’m not perfect, and so aren’t you. We have to learn to forgive.

I’m not sorry for you, for the temptations you deal with everyday. I don’t want to patronise you. I pray that you’ll wear the armour of the Holy Spirit against them. I’m not sorry for the girls who show a little too much, everybody is different and what looks one way on me doesn’t look the same on someone else. They are not responsible for your sins unless they deliberately try to seduce you, and they could do that modestly dressed too if their heart is not in the right place. I’m sorry if you’ve ever fallen for the lie that “manhood” is being physically strong and not showing any emotions, but I don’t believe you did. That’s the only expectation I have, that you are a sensitive soul that doesn’t listen to society but to the Lord. Because the Lord exalted the weak, as He alone is mighty. But I am sorry for your past hurt, whatever that may look like.

But there’s more. I’m scared.

I’m scared that illness will come too soon. That I won’t be able to hold our children or see them grow up. I’m not scared that I’ll be a bad mother or wife, nor that you will be a bad husband. We will fight, we’ll face financial stresses, but I know that ultimately does not matter. What matters is that we’ll be united in the Lord, whatever happens. I’m sorry and scared, but what do I feel the most? I’m excited.

I’m excited to meet you. I’m excited for you to experience my awkwardness. I’m excited for the time spent together exploring places. For the jokes and laughs. For the happy tears. For our future children, if the Lord wills it. For serving the Lord together. For cooking dinners for two instead of one. For dancing and singing in the kitchen. For worship and fellowship in the family room. For the deep conversations. For working the mission field, whatever that may look like. That one day I’ll be Doctor Your-Family-Name. I’m excited even for the trials that will shape our relationship. For the times that we can only get through because of our love for the Lord and His grace. For the times where all we can do is turn to His word because we are without words.

I’m sorry and scared and excited. You may be two months or fifty years away. Maybe our future will never happen. Maybe, just maybe, the Lord has other plans for me. If not, if my future involves you, I hope you see this letter. I pray that the Lord keeps you safe, and walks with you in the trials that you face, however big or small. That He prepares you to give yourself fully to your family, because that’s what leadership is: the master will come to serve. It’s not a power high. I pray that He makes you understand that I can only submit to you if you submit to Him. That I was made from the rib, near the heart, to be cherished, and not from the ground on which you walked. I pray that He strengthen your heart, grows your understanding of Him, opens your eyes more, and prepares you for everything that may come. But most of all, I pray that you lean on Him and love Him more and more each day, more than you will ever love me. Because that’s what I pray for myself, too.

Your (possible) future wife.


{This post is a rebuttal of this letter. You know, someone was wrong on the Internet. I had to.}

You may also like


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *