Bad Boys & Good Guys

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future” Jeremiah 29:11.


I couldn't describe any of my ex boyfriends’ tattoos if my life depended on it. A vague picture of inked lyrics, roses, or geometrical figures foggily surfaces in the back of my mind, the shapes jumbled together into one huge mistake.

I’m not knocking tattoos. I’ve seen beautiful work and many of my closest friends sport some ink. But in this case, they are a representation of the type of guy I have dated my entire life: The bad boy. The musician. The artist. The rebel. Think unwashed-hair-and-wrinkled-clothes-vibe (but now that I think about it, is that a just bad-boy-thing, or do guys these days just generally have terrible hygiene?) I'm talking about the kind of guy you want to sneak out of the house to go see.

This morning my most recent ex sent me a text message. He congratulated me on my marriage and asked when he would be able to meet my husband. This is the same guy who lied to me about drinking, doing drugs, and cheating on me with college girls. The same person who made me believe I was worthless. This might sound a lot like anger, but the emotion that surfaced is something far richer than that. When I picked up my phone this morning, it wasn’t resentment I felt… it was relief.

You see, despite my best efforts at ending up with a bad boy, I married a really good guy. The kind of man who doesn’t make my heart skip a beat because he’s doing something dangerous, but because he knows me to my core and loves me with his. I’ve never been so thrilled.

Father, praise you for leading me here. Thank you for not always giving me what I wanted in the moment. May I be a little more patient next time, trusting that your plans are SO much better than mine.