Sisters, Stop Waiting on God to Bring You a Man


God Is Not Going Bring You A Man

Sisters, stop waiting on God to bring you a man.

As a matter of fact, if I hear this particular meme out of the mouths of otherwise intelligent and accomplished women, one more time, I think I’m going to scream. The complete insanity of this statement and how it misrepresents God’s role in our lives never ceases to amaze me.

Let me ask you this: Would you wait for God to pay the rent? Finance your education? Fix your car? Better yet would you say, “Oh, Im just going to wait on God to finish this degree. I know when he is ready for me to have it, he’ll let me know. I can’t rush these things.”

No? Sounds ridiculous right. Well if you’re one of those women who are constantly talking about how you’re waiting for God to being you your H.I.M. and you won’t rush that, or won’t questions God’s pace as you sit and languish in dating no man’s land, you sound just as ridiculous as my hypothetical situation above.

Look. Ultimately God helps those who help themselves. I know that’s in the bible somewhere. I’ve heard it quoted often enough. So if you want to find your special someone than you have to actively help God out to make that happen. God’s role isn’t to find your man for you and drop him off at your front door, but to help you make a decision between the three men you’ve narrowed it down to and make sure that you choose the best guy for you and not just the one that makes your lady parts the hottest (even though hopefully they will be one in the same).

I recognize there is a very powerful Christian lobby out there that is conspiring to keep Black women single, in the church and hoping for a man. Well I’m here to tell you that that is not how it works. Just as many of you have worked hard to earn degrees, move up the corporate ladder and have otherwise successful lives–you’re going to have to use those same skills to find your future husband.

Yes, I would love it if God dropped off a 6’3 250lb Idris Elba look-a-like with a PhD and a tenure track job at a major university who is an accomplished writer and could set the sheets on fire at my front door, but I know it doesn’t work that way. And you should too.

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Brown Sugar

Lives in music, sits down to read like she’s at the Feast of Heaven, enters every room like a queen or a spy, reads faces the way a gypsy reads palms, knows sex the way a nomad knows the desert’s shifting sands, needs laughter to breathe, eats in celebration of taste, works joyously, loves uproariously, smiles insightfully, dreams delightfully.