Love, Actually: The Truth About Valentine’s Day and the Single Christian
Key Takeaways
(Short on time? Start here.)
➤ God is not shocked by your jealousy, your sadness, or your exhaustion. Scripture makes room for lament, not performance. You don’t need to clean up your feelings before you bring them to Him. Nearness, not niceness, is how God meets the brokenhearted.
➤ The real threat isn’t that you’re alone. It’s that disappointment, left unattended, can slowly teach your heart to withdraw. Staying soft matters more than finding answers. An open heart hears God more clearly than a guarded one ever will.
➤ Your life is not on hold. You are not behind. Long before romance, marriage, or Valentine’s Day ever entered the conversation, Christ claimed you as His own. You don’t live toward love. You live from it.
I refuse to condescend to you. I’m not going to tell you this is “just a season of waiting.” I won’t promise that “the best is yet to come.” And I’m certainly not going to hand you the same tidy phrases you’ve heard a hundred times from well-meaning Christians who completely missed the point. Your singleness is not a disease that needs fixing or a sin that needs diagnosing.
And I’m not going to pretend I understand why you’re single, either. There isn’t one neat explanation. There isn’t one story. I won’t flatten a whole room full of women into a single sentence just to make myself sound wise. But here’s what I will say. I’m sorry. On behalf of the church… I’m really sorry.
Because sometimes the hardest part of singleness isn’t singleness at all. It’s the quiet way you can love God, serve faithfully, show up week after week… and still feel invisible.
Because sometimes the hardest part of singleness isn’t singleness at all. It’s the quiet way you can love God, serve faithfully, show up week after week… and still feel invisible. There’s a bitterness no one talks about. Not loud bitterness. Not dramatic. Just the slow ache of feeling left out.
The ache of sermon series for husbands and wives and parents, but almost nothing that sounds like it was written with you in mind. The ache of baby showers and anniversaries and couple studies, while you keep smiling and bringing the casserole. The ache of wondering if anyone notices you’re carrying your life alone.
And then, as if that weren’t enough, you feel guilty for feeling any of it. So the loneliness turns into shame. And the shame turns into silence. And Valentine’s Day just pours salt in the wound. But hear me clearly, sister: God isn’t shocked by your honesty. He isn’t disappointed in your tears. He isn’t rolling His eyes at your questions. He isn’t asking you to pretend you’re fine. The God of the Psalms has never been afraid of the truth in a woman’s heart.
The Bitterness No One Talks About in Singleness
So if God isn’t afraid of your honesty, the question isn’t, “How do I stop feeling this?” The better question is, “How do I walk through this without hardening?” That shift matters. This isn’t about chasing happiness. You can be joyful and still feel left out. You can be emotionally strong and still ache. Your emotions are not a verdict on your faith, and they are not dependent on whether someone else shows up for you.
This also isn’t about resolution. You are not broken in this area. You don’t need to be fixed. You’re human. The only fixing any of us need is the slow, lifelong work God does in us as He frees us from sin. Singleness is not a defect in need of repair.
What this is about is softness. Because the real danger here isn’t that you’re single. It’s that disappointment, left unattended, slowly teaches your heart to withdraw. To stop hoping and to stop trusting. To stop letting yourself want anything at all. And that kind of hardening doesn’t announce itself. It feels practical, protective. Maybe even wise. But over time, it quietly closes you off to joy, connection, and love in all its forms.
So no, I’m not trying to cheer you up. I’m just trying to help you stay open.
A Few Gentle Ways to Care for Your Heart
So here are a few gentle ways to care for your heart in this season. Not to fix it. Just to keep it soft.
1. Tell the truth somewhere safe
Not everywhere. Not to everyone. Start by telling the truth somewhere safe. With God (Psalm 62:8). With a trusted friend. With a journal, if that’s all you have. You don’t owe your vulnerability to the whole room, but you do owe yourself honesty somewhere. God often doesn’t heal what we refuse to name, and community can’t carry what we keep hidden. Naming your hurt isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom. And when you choose safe honesty instead of public performance, you honor your heart without putting it on display.
2. Stop punishing yourself for wanting good things
This matters more than we admit. Wanting marriage doesn’t make you faithless. Wanting companionship doesn’t mean you don’t trust God. Longing is not a spiritual failure. Desire, by itself, is not the problem. The problem comes when desire turns inward and becomes shame. When you start disciplining yourself for wanting what is good, normal, and human. God never asked you to numb your heart to prove your faithfulness.
3. Don’t isolate on days that already hurt
Isolation can feel protective, but it often makes the ache louder. If Valentine’s Day feels tender for you, don’t spend it alone if you don’t have to. Grab dinner with friends. Serve someone. Be physically present somewhere warm and human. Not as a distraction, but as a reminder that love is still happening all around you. Loneliness lies most convincingly when we’re by ourselves.
4. Build a life you don’t apologize for
Don’t put your life on pause waiting for permission you may never need. Travel. Lead. Buy the couch. Take the class. Start the thing you keep saving for “someday.” Stop shrinking your life to make room for a future that hasn’t arrived yet. Singleness isn’t the waiting room.
This is your life.
5. Guard your inputs without guilt
If certain accounts, conversations, or spaces make you spiral, you are allowed to step back. That’s not immaturity. That’s wisdom. Protecting your peace doesn’t mean you’re fragile. It means you’re attentive. No one earns spiritual maturity by repeatedly placing themselves in environments that reopen wounds.
You Were Never Waiting to Be Chosen
Before anything else, before any relationship status, before any February holiday ever got a vote, this was already true: “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18
Near.
Not disappointed. Not impatient. Not asking you to toughen up or pretend you’re fine. Near.
God has never required you to be less human to belong to Him. He doesn’t ask you to silence your ache before you come close. He meets you right in it. Which means your life is not on hold. You are not behind. And you are not waiting to be chosen.
You already are. Chosen. Known. Kept. (Ephesians 1:3-14) Long before a man ever put a ring on someone’s finger, Christ put His name on yours. So this season isn’t a punishment to survive or a problem to solve. It’s simply a place to walk with Him honestly, one soft step at a time. And that is more secure than any Valentine’s Day could ever offer.
Next Steps
● Circle: Low bandwidth, tender heart
If this holiday feels heavy, don’t isolate. Text one trusted person and say, “Can we check in this week?” You don’t need solutions. You need presence.
☐ Square: Ready for depth and reflection
Spend time this week with Psalm 62:8 and Psalm 34:1-22. Journal honestly. No polishing. No fixing. Ask: Where have I been hardening instead of healing?
▲ Triangle: New to naming these feelings
Mute or step back from social media or conversations that intensify comparison this week. This isn’t avoidance. It’s wisdom.
Give your heart a quieter place to land.
❥ Heart: Leaning into connection
Make intentional plans around Valentine’s Day that center on friendship and presence. Dinner. Serving together. A shared experience. Love doesn’t shrink to romance. Celebrate it where it already exists.
Related Articles:
Read The Latest
Read Our Most Popular
Valentine’s Day can quietly magnify the loneliness single Christian women rarely say out loud. This isn’t another pep talk about “waiting well.” It’s an honest, gentle word for the woman who loves God deeply but still feels left out.