I’m not particularly good a new years resolutions. I’m more of a Lent gal—I can do most anything for 40 days. But a whole year? That feels nearly impossible. I’m just organized enough to get a lot of things done but just undisciplined enough to struggle after a certain amount of time.

Last year, I decided to write things out. I wrote out some goals of things I wanted to do and things I wanted to cut out. I even made cute watercolor resolutions. But honestly, I just now remembered those pages. Happy New Years’ Eve.

There was one list, however, that I did keep up all year. And while I didn’t look at it every single day, I looked at it most of them.

First, I wrote two categories: Married and Single. Married means they are literally married. Single is anyone (in relationship or not) that doesn’t have a spouse. Some are widowed or have never been married. Some may even be in serious relationships. But all of them are walking through life as single people. 

Next, I listed them all out. Friends that I saw all the time, friends I saw barely at all. If they were in my life in some way or I would text them and ask how they’ve been, they made the list. And at first, it made me feel a little strange. So much of me kicks back against categorizing people by relationship status. I often preach that our relationship status does not define us. And I still believe that.

But at the end of the day? Some of us are going to bed alone and other are falling asleep next to a spouse. If some of us lose our jobs, we start to panic over being only reliant on ourselves. Others may have that partner in life, but they face their own challenges: they have to do life with another human being. They have to compromise and commit to that person in ugly and fair.

So often, I pray for my friends generally but don’t focus in on relationship status at all. But that’s like saying we should do away with denominations or be colorblind. All it’s doing is pretending that there’s no differences and it strips us of what makes us unique.

I am single. I have certain flexibility and freedom as a result. But also? I can get really self-centered and I need to be pulled out of my comfort zone. I need someone to check and make sure I’m home safe. I need someone to call and ask if I want to join them for dinner because DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE EMOTIONAL TOLL OF EATING YOUR MEALS ALONE UNLESS YOU MAKE INTENTIONAL PLANS TO NOT EAT ALONE. There are parts of singleness that are sweet, but also some things that are hard.

This exercise of writing down people’s relationship status has changed the way I pray for my friends. It’s reminded me that there are other people with a set of challenges that I don’t understand. It’s also made me say things to my friends I’d never imagined like, “How is your marriage doing? How can I pray?” and getting right to the heart of what’s happening. It forces me to care deeply about this mystery I don’t often consider.

Rather than assuming everything is great, I usually find we’re all desperate to say “Oh, this thing is a blessing but it’s HARD.” And that illuminates a whole lot. Because honestly? I don’t know what it’s like to be up all night with a sick child. I don’t know what it’s like to have the chance to move but have to consider what’s best for others. I don’t know what it’s like to get in an argument and ask yourself, “Why did I ever marry this person?”

So each night, more or less, I go over the list. Sometimes quickly. Sometimes slowly, adding specific requests based on what I know about their lives and current circumstances.

At the top of the page, it says “Pray for your friends to THRIVE.” I don’t just pray for them to be okay or survive. I pray for them to thrive. That they would REJOICE in their marriage just like I’d want them to pray I could REJOICE in singleness. That somehow, on the darkest days, it would be found to be a gift. I pray for us all to THRIVE. To look at each other and say “You were made for this and it is a good thing.”

There’s such division between married and single people. Single people are seen as a threat. Married people are seen as holier. Both assumptions are problematic.

The New Year is a chance to better ourselves. To find a word for the year or a resolution or a routine. And that’s all good and well. But my challenge to you is to make a list of your own. A literal list of your friends that are single and your friends that are married and pray for them to thrive. To choose bettering our relationships, not just our selves. To look past our own situation and intercede for others. 

This year, the list will change. Some marriages ended due to death or divorce. Some single people committed to life with another person. And I guarantee that when I started this list on New Years Day 2019, we never saw a lot of things coming that are happening in the lives of these people I hold dear.

Don’t write off your friends who may not be in the same boat as you. Don’t assume their life is easier or harder. And don’t neglect the opportunity to pray over your friends as a discipline in this way. Maybe marriage is hard for you and to pray for other marriages to Thrive feels like a sore spot. Maybe you’re single and resenting the couples around you. By praying over their relationships, I’ve been reminded that we can advocate, even when we can’t relate. 

Maybe you’ll join the gym. Maybe you’ll read the bible in a year. Maybe you’ll meet the love of your life. Maybe you’ll lose them. What I know is this: none of us ever see things coming, but goodness if we can’t fight for one another to thrive.

I don’t want to pray for my friends only when they hit crisis or despair. I want them to be growing and learning and thriving today before words get spoken or actions are taken. Before arguments and break ups and new babies and job promotions. I want to walk things out with all of my friends, even though I may never walk down the aisle. 

Here’s to 2020 and the chance to bring others before God with joy over cynicism, hope over skepticism and may it bring us the compassion, insight and desire to cheer for each other in all the places we ache and succeed.