The kettle is whistling and the bread just came out of the oven. The warmth of the stove wraps around me like a blanket, and the quiet is a comfort — not a curse. The world outside may be in chaos, but in here, peace still reigns. Not because I have it all figured out, but because I know who holds the future.
Even though I live alone for now — no husband, no children — I live as if they’re already part of my life. Because one day, if the Lord wills, they will be.
“Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.”
— Psalm 37:4
And I do desire marriage. I desire to serve a husband. To raise children in truth. To be a keeper of the home who is clothed in strength and dignity — not caught in the world’s confusion about what it means to be a woman.
I don’t see the kitchen as a prison. I see it as a place of preparation and power. It’s where I practice serving, sacrificing, and sustaining life. Even now — even just for myself — I treat every meal I prepare, every space I tend, every routine I build, as an offering. Because this is not about me. It’s about being faithful in the waiting.
“She rises while it is yet night and provides food for her household.”
— Proverbs 31:15
I want to be ready when God calls me into marriage — not just emotionally or spiritually, but practically. I want to know how to feed, nurture, support, and follow my future husband with grace and strength. And I want to raise children who know truth from lies, who see joy in discipline and purpose in obedience.
“Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it.”
— Proverbs 22:6
The world is falling apart. The news grows darker every day. And while people stock up on weapons and solar panels, I’m stocking up on wisdom, discipline, and love. Because survival is about more than having a pantry full of food. It’s about knowing how to create peace in a storm — and that starts in the home.
So yes, I belong in the kitchen. Not because I have to — but because I choose to be a woman who nurtures life. It’s where I’ll minister to my family. It’s where I’ll teach lessons, dry tears, fill empty bellies, and pray over every plate.
“The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down.”
— Proverbs 14:1
I’m not foolish. I know what’s coming. And I want to be ready in spirit and skill when the world expects women to be helpless and hopeless.
Prayer
Father, thank You for creating me with purpose. Thank You for showing me that womanhood is not weakness, but strength of a different kind — softer, deeper, and holy. Help me to become the kind of wife who blesses her husband all the days of his life. Make me diligent in this season of waiting — to work, learn, and worship in private, unseen ways. Let this home be a training ground for the life You’re preparing me for. Amen.
Sometimes I think of my future husband. I wonder what he’s doing tonight. Maybe he’s chopping firewood or reading the Word by lamplight like I am. Maybe he’s praying for a woman who will walk beside him without questioning his leadership or trying to take it from him.
I pray I’ll be the answer to that prayer.
“Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church…”
— Ephesians 5:22–23
That verse is not a burden to me. It’s a comfort. I want a husband I can trust to lead — and I want to be the kind of woman he can trust to follow without resistance. Because that kind of order isn’t outdated. It’s biblical. It brings peace, not confusion.
And I know the world rolls its eyes at women like me. They think we’re brainwashed, repressed, afraid. But I’ve never felt more free. Free from the pressure to compete, to climb, to prove myself by the world’s standards. I know who I am — and whose I am.
“Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.”
— Proverbs 31:30
So tonight, I light my candles. I pray over my future table. I fold my laundry with care and organize my shelves because this is my calling. Even now, without a husband to serve or children to raise, I am living the life of a God-honoring woman in training.
Prayer
Lord, prepare me to be a wife and mother who walks in wisdom, patience, and deep love. Teach me to lay down selfish ambition and pick up quiet faithfulness. Let me serve now with joy, knowing that You see everything done in secret. Bless my future husband, wherever he is tonight. Strengthen him to lead. Teach him to love. And when the time is right, bring us together in Your perfect plan. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
This is enough for tonight. The stew is cooling and the world is still turning. But my heart is full. Because even in this quiet season, I know I’m becoming exactly the kind of woman I was made to be.
And when the time comes — when God brings my family — I won’t just be ready. I’ll be grateful.
The Christian Tech-Nerd 