Broken People

Last night I had a conversation with my manager at the restaurant. She's still very young - only 21, which seems centuries ago to me - and she's having relationship issues with her girlfriend. (Yes, she's a lesbian.) At one time I wouldn't have been able to see past her sexual preference, and though I still don't believe that God approves of homosexuality (though He desperately loves the homosexual), I don't look at her and see someone who's gay. I just see her - this wonderful, amazing person who has far more to bring to the world than she knows.

Anyway, those matters are beside the point, and though I want to explore them, I'll do so at another time. What I'm really driving at is the fact that this girl is in a relationship with someone several years younger who's really not ready for the kind of committed relationship that my manager is ready for. So despite the fact that they love each other, their relationship is falling apart at the seams as they both tug at each other - one desiring independence and convenient intimacy, and the other desiring something deeper and more fulfilling. It's been hard over the past few months to watch this girl I really love go through the near weekly drama that consumes their relationship, so when she asked for my advice last night, I gave her my honest opinion. No, I didn't tell her she should stop being a lesbian and "get right with God." While I believe that's what she truly needs, the soil of her heart isn't ready to hear that yet, and my advice without discretion would only serve to close her off to me should the time ever come that her heart is ready to hear the whole truth. The honest opinion I gave her was the opinion my best friend has given me regarding my relationships with men. And just like me, she's not entirely ready to act on it, even if she knows it's good advice. I told her I think she needs to walk away from this relationship and get involved with someone who's ready for the kind of relationship she really wants to be in. I think she has a lot to give, and getting involved with a more mature person who's ready for a relationship with less drama and more giving would do wonders for her.

I understand how easy it is to give that advice and how terribly hard - even impossible - it is to follow, even when you see the wisdom of it. And no doubt I feel for S (my manager) the same kind of compassionate concern my best friend must feel for me. I know she's not ready to let this relationship go, and so I know that her heart will continue to be battered as she holds out for changes that aren't going to happen.

It's hard to watch somone you love make choices that aren't in their best interest. You understand why they're driven to make those choices, but it hurts to know that those choices will only cause more pain in the long term. It's especially hard when that person has the kind of personality that S does. She reminds me so very much of my ex-lover sometimes. On the outside she's a hard ass who seems like she just blows stuff off, but the truth is she's this terribly vulnerable heart inside, a teddy bear who internalizes everything. In fact, despite her tough exterior, I think she gets wounded more deeply by things than the average person. And just as I'd love to do with him, sometimes I just ache to wrap my arms around that place inside her that is so bruised and hurting and heal it for her. I want to protect her and help her before she starts building walls and getting all hard like he has.

There are lots of people I know who make me feel this way, and it makes me wonder if that's a part of what God wants to do with my life. I want to fix the broken people. I never used to care beyond the superficial, but I remember asking God a long time ago to help me see people through His eyes and love them with His love. I guess I was expecting a lightning bolt from heaven to strike me with superhuman love and compassion, but that's not how it happened. I just know that somehow over the last ten years, my heart has become soft toward others so gradually and imperceptably to me that I don't know when I became a bawl-baby over them, but somehow I have. I look at people and I see beyond the surface. I look at M, another of my co-workers from the restaurant whom I just adore, and can't help but wonder what's going to happen to him when he wakes up someday and searches for meaning in his life beyond partying, one-night stands and getting stoned. I wonder why he is so driven to immerse himself in the crazy life he lives - what is it he's running away from? - and who among all his partying buddies will really be there for him when he's desperate and in need.

I can't explain it, but I just wish I knew where to start and how to make a true difference. I don't know why I get hit harder with some people more than others, but I do. It's just like I can see certain people hobbling around emotionally - some of them have already given up and they're just going through the motions like the walking dead, others are still striving and struggling and fighting to make something work out - and I want to get in there and fix them. I want to sit down with them inside their souls and cry big tears for all the pain in there and cover it all with warm, healing oil. I want to make it stop hurting and stop longing and stop warring so they can come out in the sun like innocent children and laugh and start fresh without those wounds that cripple them.

I remember being with my ex-lover and seeing some of those dark, wounded places in him. I felt so inadequate to even begin to heal them. The pain and the past were just too big, and it was a horrible feeling to know that I could wrap my arms around his body while knowing that he didn't know how to let me wrap my arms around his soul.

The truth is, though, I don't know how much any of us can heal one another. The creation can only do so much for itself before it has to turn to the Creator and say, "Please help. We're having a serious malfunction here, and we can't fix it." I don't believe He likes to see us hurting, but I think He's wise enough to understand that it's usually our pain that goads us until we have to look to Him for some kind of relief.

I suppose that the pain and loneliness I was talking about dealing with in my last post have been God's tools to make my heart soft toward others. I know what it feels like to hurt deeply, and so now it hurts me to see others feel that pain. I asked God to teach me compassion, so He gave the gift (albeit a somewhat dubious gift) of pain. Or so my Fundy upbringing would say. But as I've said before, not all Fundy ideas are completely out in left field. And though I know somewhere deep inside that He is the healing for all that pain, I'm still waiting for Him to come through and fill in those deep, lonely places that haunt me. Without His healing, I can only look on the pain of others with compassion; I have nothing else to give them. I'm just one more patient in this huge hospital of terribly broken people, wishing desperately that I had something more effective than snake oil to offer to my fellow patients.

Profoundly Alone

Maybe it's the lousy weather we've been having the past few days, but today I'm just having a hell of a time pulling myself out of the doldrums, and the disappointment with life in general that's been plagueing me is feeling a bit overwhelming. So despite that fact that this blog is supposed to be primarily about spiritual issues, I'm just gonna vent and get it all out.

I guess a lot of what I have to say comes back to spiritual stuff anyway, though on a much more personal note. One of the few things I miss from my Fundy days was the sense of direction I had. I was moving toward a clear destiny. I had no idea how the hell I was going to get there, but I knew where I was going. In retrospect, I don't think that destiny was a very good fit for me or all that closely related to God's real purpose for putting me here. In fact, I think this terribly difficult (at times) journey I'm taking now has far more to do with what He wants for me than even I can see right now. The problem is I can't see that far. All I see is a 30-year-old woman who's still single, working in an unsatisfying job, and having a hard time moving in any direction other than Nowhereville. I have all these dreams, but I feel like I'm stuck in neutral and can't move into realizing them.

For starters, I have so many adventurous things I want to do, but I'm not getting anywhere. Part of that has to do with the physical issues I've been fighting for nearly six months now. I sit on a ball all day at work to keep my hips from hurting, but that just makes my back sore. When I get out of bed in the morning or stand up after a lengthy period of sitting, I hobble around like an escapee from a geriatric ward. It's ridiculous. I'm thirty! I'm not supposed to wobble my way across the room like someone who's pushing ninety! Exercising hurts, so I don't get out to enjoy the beautiful world that soothes my soul and makes me feel closer to God. (Dammit! Stop crying, Amy!) It seems like nothing I do provides a permanent solution, and though my doctor assures me this will pass with physical therapy, there's this horrible fear inside me that I'm never going to feel normal and stop hurting again, and all those lovely dreams I have of snowboarding and climbing and exploring my world under the power of my own two legs will never materialize. And I hate how out of shape I've become. Last summer I was in the best shape of my life. Now, I get a bit winded from climbing a couple flights of stairs. I used to pass people while hiking uphill. This summer I've been able to get out once, and I had to drop to the back because I was in so much pain I couldn't keep up. I've gained a few pounds, and I hate it! What if all the dreams and desires I have to be extreme in the outdoors die inside me unrealized?

I'm also frustrated with my dead-end career. That's not to say I'm not thankful. Going through several months of unemployment last fall impacted me deeply, and when I start to complain to myself about how boring technical editing is, I remember that horrible fear that felt like a hand around my throat. I lived with that fear day after day when I couldn't find work. I may not love (or even really like) this job, but it pays better than anything I've ever had, and I work with some really great people who have become good friends. But what if I get stuck here? It's a legitimate fear. I have no formal education to propel me into an enjoyable career with an actual future. What I'm capable of means nothing next to my lack of education and limited experience. Of course, I've looked at going back to school, but who wants to start at the bottom when they're pushing 31? I don't relish 5-8 years of schooling (part-time school, full-time work) just to get a Bachelors. I've got to make a living and support myself. Do I want to spend the entirety of my thirties in school only to hit 40 with hefty debt from student loans and a body that's getting past it's prime, thereby limiting my ability to take up those outdoor loves? And if I went to school, what would I study? It's all a bit overwhelming.

To top it all off, I can't help feeling, most of the time, as though I am profoundly alone. (Oh boy! Here go the waterworks again! Aren't you glad you came to my pity party?) Part of this has to do with being single. Okay, a lot of it has to do with being single. It's not that I don't value my singleness. Actually, I do. In fact, I'm not in any rush just now to dash to the altar with anyone, but I would really like to be in a committed relationship with a man who actually WANTS to be with me and invest himself in a relationship with me. I'd like to have someone to cuddle with on the couch and talk to when I've had a bad day. I want someone to lay beside me in bed and keep me warm on cold nights and let me nestle my head into his shoulder. And you know, I'm really tired of all the people who don't get this because they have that already. I'm sick to death of people who get married at 19 or 20 or even 25 who don't have the foggiest of clues what it means to be lonely. (Yes, I know that sometimes the loneliest people are married.) I don't understand why the God of the universe would uniquely fit someone for a loving relationship and then not provide it. I'm tired of going months snuggling up to my pillow at night to help compensate for the empty side of the bed, and then finding someone who fits the bill (or seems to) only to have him turn into a certified asshole. I'm tired of being alone. I'm tired of compensating. I'm tired of finding myself wandering to the personal ads on Craigslist and staring at the ones who just want a cuddle on a lonely night and finding myself contemplating if it would be worth the risk that he might not be a lonely guy but a serial killer or a sex offender. (Don't worry. I've never called and I won't!) But seriously. Why do I have to be alone?

Now of course, some judgmental Fundy will say, "All of this is happening because you're not where you should be with God." You know what? Fuck you. I don't think God's afflicting my hips because I love hiking too much. Why would He keep me away from the places where my soul takes a deep breath and opens up to hear Him most clearly? I don't think He's pissed at me and leaving me without direction in life because I'm searching for authentic Christian spirituality instead of swallowing every traditional idea that's been shoved at me. In fact, I think He's happy that I finally started seeking something more substantial. And I suppose that, however Fundy-ish it might sound, even my loneliness has a purpose. But I'm sick to death of it, and I have these moments of desperation where I'm literally ready to look a bad decision in the face and make it anyway, despite knowing it's one of the worst things I could do, just to get a moment or two of relief from feeling so very alone. I guess I should be thankful for the friends who keep me from outright stupidity, and honestly I am, but there are moments when you just wish someone would let you jump off the bridge and get it over (No, I'm not talking suicide. I'm talking about acts of desperation.).

I'm sure all this sounds kinda scary to some people, and I don't feel like this 24/7, thank God. But I'm really at that "something's gotta give" place, and I'm all done with being alone.

New Ideas

It's been far too long since I posted, partly because some of the issues I'm wrestling with are just to personal to put out there, partly because I just haven't been in the mood, and partly because I haven't had the time or desire to make it happen. However, here I am again.

I've been doing a lot of thinking/wrestling over the issue I raised in my last post relating to that sense of God withholding Himself. I've hashed the matter through, and though I haven't really settled on an answer that fully satisfies me yet, I feel like I may be getting situated in a direction that could prove enlightening with a bit of forward momentum.

There is a thought that is slowly wending its way through my brain like a flashlight searching through a dark, abandoned building. I've been feeling angry at God for all of this, recognizing that it's not really His fault, but still feeling like He withheld what I needed to the point that it put me in a position where I was more vulnerable to weakness than I should have been. Granted, my choices are my own, but perhaps if He had done things differently, I wouldn't have made those choices. So I've been kinda pissed. Pissed that I was (and still am) weak and vulnerable. Pissed that He could have done something about it and didn't. Pissed that I trusted Him and walked away empty-handed. Somewhere in there I know it's not His fault, that He was the wise one and the love I needed was always there, but I haven't sorted it through yet. So this new idea is beginning to infiltrate. It's hard for me to articulate because I'm still in that place where my fingers are just brushing the edges of something unfamiliar. The best I can say at the moment is that perhaps it wasn't God who left me out in the cold. Perhaps it's not His fault, not because, as I've been angry about, He failed to do what I thought He said He would. Perhaps what I was taught about Him was wrong. Perhaps I was trained up in perspectives that weren't quite on target.

No, my Fundy friends, don't freak out on me. I'm not going anywhere weird. I'm just saying that perhaps my understanding of God as the Lover or the Father was influenced incorrectly by the people who taught me these things. It isn't that He isn't the Lover or the Father or the Fulfiller, but perhaps what I was taught to expect from Him in those roles led me away from who and what He really is in them.

I realize that may not make much sense and that this posting is rather scattered, but my thoughts on the subject are still very fragmented and hesitant. It's hard to retrain the mind and explore new ideas when you've grown so accustomed to the old ones that you could walk through them blindfolded. However, as I start figuring my way around in here and find out if this new way of thinking might actually be truth, I'll keep you posted. (Haha. Posted. Get it? LOL. Oh, never mind.)

God Withholding

I should warn you in advance that this post hits a really raw nerve with me, so I can't be sure what I'm gonna end up saying.

I got home from work last night and decided to watch some Creed videos on You Tube. I'd heard "Higher" on the radio while I was driving to work, and as I hadn't listened to it in a long time, I wanted to hear it again. But as I watched it and some of the other videos by Creed, I found myself wrestling with some really deep, raw, vulnerable stuff in me. I got this sense of God withholding Himself, which is something I don't understand. I remember hearing a few years ago that the lead singer of Creed is the son of a pastor, but he doesn't embrace Christianity personally. I don't know if any or all of that is true. I do know that his lyrics sure seem to support it. In fact, his lyrics resonate with me because they sound like the cry of a man who wants authentic relationship with God and, like me, believes that the Bible holds the truth, but for some reason God withholds Himself from the seeker. Listen to some of the stuff he says and you'll see what I mean.

When dreaming I'm guided to another world
Time and time again
At sunrise I fight to stay asleep
'Cause I don't want to leave the comfort of this place
'Cause there's a hunger, a longing to escape
From the life I live when I'm awake

So let's go there
Let's make our escape
Come on, let's go there
Let's ask can we stay.

Can you take me higher?
To a place where blind men see
Can you take me higher?
To a place with golden streets

And then there's his song "One Last Breath."

Please come now I think I’m falling
I’m holding on to all I think is safe
It seems I found the road to nowhere
And I’m trying to escape
I yelled back when I heard thunder
But I’m down to one last breath
And with it let me say
Let me say

Hold me now
I’m six feet from the edge and I’m thinking
That maybe six feet
Ain’t so far down

I’m looking down now that it’s over
Reflecting on all of my mistakes
I thought I found the road to somewhere, Somewhere in His grace
I cried out heaven save me, But I’m down to one last breath

Sad eyes follow me
But I still believe there’s something left for me
So please come stay with me
‘Cause I still believe there’s something left for you and me
For you and me, for you and me

I cried as I watched these videos last night because he has such a longing in his eyes, and I can't help but wonder why God doesn't answer him. I want to know why God doesn't fight for him. Why would He let someone who knows the truth is there and reaches for it not find Him? That's something that doesn't make sense to me. Why does God pursue people who don't give a fuck for Him and ignore those who are longing and reaching and desperate to find Him? Not just truth or church or blessings, but HIM. Don't get me wrong, I love the fact that God pursues people who don't want Him; in fact, I have a list of people I dearly love that I beg Him to pursue. But this guy's words and the look on his face really hit that raw nerve in me because I feel like I'm right there with him. I feel like I went after God and searched for Him and begged Him to meet me. I didn't hold myself back and I threw myself out there. I was ready to give Him anything and everything, just to live in His love and know Him. And I feel like He didn't really respond. I feel like I reached out with desperate arms to embrace a vanished lover. Why?

To be honest, it pisses me off. I remember years ago - I would have been in high school at the time - right after I really committed my life to Christ. I had just started reading my Bible, and why I opted for Jeremiah I don't know, but I found this verse in Jeremiah 29 that said, "You will seek me and find me when you search for me with all your heart." That verse was like a thunderclap. It was one of those times when you know that God is speaking right to you. And I've never forgotten that, and I spent years wholeheartedly seeking Him. Sometimes I found Him, but most of the time I felt like He was just beyond my reach. I would push harder ("pressing in" we called it), but He still stayed just far enough for me to sense Him but not close enough to touch. I can't tell you how many times I cried out and walked away still longing. I don't know why I kept reaching so long and didn't give up sooner. Now, though, I feel like I've worn myself out and there's just nothing left in me to reach with. So seeing someone else who seems to have gone through this kind of thing and hearing him sing about how he's reaching and not finding terrifies me. What happens when you have nothing left to reach with and you still haven't gotten what you sought? How can I trust that, having become Gomer, He will really come after me? After all, He withheld Himself when I was wholeheartedly seeking, so what hope do I have when my spirit is just too tired to reach anymore?

I suppose there's always the possibility that where I am now is where He's always wanted me to be, that He couldn't answer my longing then because I would have forever stayed in the narrow minded place I lived and never learned to love the real people in the real world. Maybe I had to learn that I could never long deeply enough or reach far enough or strive unceasingly enough, and the only way to find Him was to let Him find me. I don't know. All I know is that I don't have any "reach" left, and I'm really hoping that He'll show up before too awful long. I miss Him. I don't miss the Fundy church or my nutty ideas, but I miss Him. And that's weird too. How can you miss what you rarely found?

Anyhow, this is just one of those things I don't get about God. I don't get why He seems to ignore the seeking - or some of the seeking, at any right. Why doesn't He reach back to that Creed guy? Why didn't He reach back to me? And will He?

Of course, some well meaning person will offer a reassurance that He will, and they're probably right. But why wait until "someday"? Why not now? Why not then? Why wait until a person's ability to trust has been shattered?

Judging Me, Judging You

I've been thinking quite a bit over the last few days about the human tendency to judge others. At first, I was giving all the credit for this ugly trait to the Fundies, but the more I thought on it, the more I realized this isn't a Fundy thing or an Evangelical thing; it's a human thing. It's something we all do. Christians judge non-Christians, and vice versa. Libs and Conservatives judge one another. Active people look with a less than understanding eye on inactive people, especially if the inactive sorts are overweight. The skinny judge the fat. The married judge the single. The environmentally conscious judge people who couldn't care less if the glaciers melt and the planet becomes unliveable. (Oops! Did I just reveal my environmentally friendly position there? LOL.) It's rich against poor, minority against majority, employed against unemployed, the fashion conscious against the fashion disasters. It seems no matter where you turn, you'll find someone to judge and someone who's judging you. In a society that screams for tolerance and understanding, we're all failing miserably, even if we believe in these high ideals.

Naturally, I've had the experience of being judged. I carry around enough extra pounds to be labeled curvy, so naturally I get to be victim to the stigma that follows all people with a few to take off: lazy and inactive. As one might expect, most athletic folks look at me and see a couch potato who's addicted to sitcoms and Cheetos. That image couldn't be further from my reality. Because they're judging, they don't see the fact that I'm an avid hiker and lover of outdoor sports who can't remember the last time she ate chips of any kind and wouldn't even bother with owning a TV if she lived alone. I can't change the fact that my curves refuse to comply with my fitness level, but I sure as hell hate to be judged because of it. There are few things that infuriate me more than taking a hike with a skinny, inactive friend and running into a judgmental fellow hiker. Inevitably, once we reach the top of the climb, that other hiker will come to me and say, "Hey, you made it. Good work. That was a hard climb." All I want to say is, "Kiss my ass, buddy. Perhaps you failed to notice that I passed you three times on the way up. The only reason you beat me to the top is because Slowbones over here kept having to stop for a rest. And for the record, this is an easy hike. If you want a hard climb, I can show you one." Such a response, however, would be neither gracious nor polite, and despite the fact that I hate the assumption that promotes that hiker's comment, I have to appreciate the kind intentions behind it. So I hold my peace... or strike up a conversation in which I casually mention some of the really tough backcountry hikes I've taken recently and how this is my partner's first hike and I'm introducing her to life on the trail. I consider this "educational." After all, misconceptions never change if they're never challenged or corrected.

I could give a number of examples of the assumptions and judgments I've witnessed, but as the focus of this blog is spirituality, we'll address those. And I'll start with me. (Surprise, surprise! LOL.) For many years, I was one of those conservatives who was guilty of judging liberals (keep in mind that I'm not speaking politically here). I deemed anyone with less conservative ideas than me (and believe me, I was REALLY conservative) a liberal. And in being a liberal, this person was clearly wrong. As an example, for several years I held to the idea that courtship - a highly structured way of forming romantic relationships - was "God's way" and therefore the only way Christians should pursue romance. For a time, I was actually insufferable about this issue. When my best friend took the time to raise a few objections to the courtship approach to relationships and chose to wrestle with the matter rather than embracing the idea wholesale, I privately deemed her as a little less spiritual than me. In fact, I thought I was more spiritual than pretty much everyone in my church, as most of them couldn't see the wisdom of courtship, the clearly revealed will of God for the single people in our gathering. At every opportunity, I preached it to the reluctant singles amongst us, extolling courtship's virtues and showing them that God wanted them to mature into this new thing. And with every rejection, my sense of my own spirituality and martyrdom grew.

The truth is, I was like this on a lot of issues. The stricter the discipline and the more restrictive the rules, the more spiritual the practice in question seemed to me. I wouldn't have called myself an ascetic, but in retrospect that's precisely what I was. I know I'm painting a picture of myself as a real ass - and at times I'm sure I was - but my heart really was in the right place. I wanted to do right and be good from the inside out. I just went about it the wrong way. And though it might sound like I've completely switched sides and have no use for disciplines or practices like courtship, that's not the case. I may not agree with everything they say, but I'm also not going to deny that they make some valid points that are worth considering. So I'm not challenging them directly; I'm challenging the attitudes they subtlely promote: "This way is better and more spiritual. Those who are committed to doing things God's way will perceive this and embrace it; those who are still 'in love with the world' won't. And since I've perceived it, it's a clear sign of my devotion and spirituality. Since you haven't..." And so is born this judgmental attitude amongst Fundies and Evangelicals. The conviction is "my way is God's way and therefore the only right way. Your way differs from mine; therefore, it's wrong. That makes me more spiritual than you." And so we come to a place where the Cons (haha! okay, conservatives) have so many disciplines to keep them in line that they no longer need grace, and the Libs have such a dependence on grace that they no longer acknowledge the value of disciplines.

It's easy to see how the Cons judge the Libs, but the truth is, the Libs judge the Cons too. Now that I have more liberal perspectives, I find that I'm as likely to judge the Cons as I once was to judge the Libs, as evidenced by some of the things I say in this blog. It's very easy for me to focus on all the things the Cons are doing wrong and feel that I have a better understanding of the true heart of God. This attitude is just as wrong as my old judgment in the opposite direction.

I don't know if it can be accomplished because we're fighting against a tendency that's deeply embedded in human nature (or perhaps I should say it can only be accomplished through a mighty work of God), but somehow the Libs and Cons have to stop judging one another. Somehow we have to recognize that each side has a kernel or two of truth that the opposition could benefit from. Somehow we must come to understand that when you boil us down to the heart of the matter, the real desire in all of us is to know and please God, and to do His work. If we could just begin at that very small patch of common ground, we might come to the place where Libs and Cons no longer reject one another's perspectives out of hand without really listening and acknowledging their validity. I'll be among the first to admit that I don't have any patience for Con perspectives these days. I don't want to hear them. I feel like these people and their ideas have wounded me long enough. But I have to get past that and recognize that I'm not being fair. Yes, they're doing some things that I consider absolutely wrong and absolutely opposed to the heart of Jesus, but I was once a true Con myself, and I have to remember the names and faces of the people who once filled my life and remember that these Cons (haha. Sorry, but calling them "cons" is kinda amusing!) really want the same Jesus I long for. I have to acknowledge that some of the things they have to say are right, just as some of the things we Libs have to say are right. And we're both wrong on some points.

We may never agree, but if we would stop judging one another long enough to learn a little from each other, perhaps we might all grow a little more toward our real objective, and perhaps we might accomplish more of the work God has for us in bringing light and hope and love to the dark places around us. We all have to stop assuming that our position is the right one and therefore we're entitled to judge all others as wrong. Until we do, we'll never be able to find that common ground: Jesus.

Pure Weddings?

I'd like to start by saying thanks to Dan for his insightful comment on my posting about prayer. He really hit the nail on the head, and I have no doubt I'll explore his remarks more at a later date.

On to the post...

Just when you think you've heard it all, someone hits you with something you can hardly be expected to believe. I heard something last night that I have to admit angered and shocked me, and I thought it was worth exploring, as it illustrates many of the points I make on this blog. Without divulging too much detail, some old friends of mine who moved to the Bible belt last year recently returned to Seattle for a visit. I didn't see them, though a mutual friend did, and from the sound of things, the Bible belt has wrapped itself around their unsuspecting waists and slipped up to their necks where it has begun to squeeze their minds into small perspectives I would consider unpleasant.

While they visited with our mutual friend, one of them commented, "Our girls know we won't be paying for a wedding that's not pure." I almost exploded. Now, it's not that I'm against pure weddings. I'm all for them. It's just that the small-mindedness of that statement infuriates me, particularly in light of the fact that neither of the parents in question was even remotely "pure" when they married.

Sexual purity is a big deal in the church, and I can understand why. I stayed sexually pure for a very long time (I was nearly thirty), but as I've shared once before, I was weak and made a decision to give myself to a man I was dating. I share that to say that I know very intimately the emotional and spiritual issues that spring from sexual activity outside marriage. I also know how very easy it is to go from absolute innocence to the loss of that innocence literally in the course of one night. Contrary to what most Fundies think, it's VERY easy to do, even when you have every intention of sticking to your convictions. And let me tell you, my convictions meant a great deal to me. So in light of what I know from personal experience and in light of the exposure and pressures young people face within their culture (greater now than perhaps at any time in history) and in light of the battles they must fight purely on the level of natural human desire even without these two other factors, it's not surprising that the vast majority of Christian young people don't make it to their marriages "pure." I commend (and sometimes even envy) those who do, but I'd be the last person to judge or condemn those who don't. And I don't think any less of them for being weak. I made it through the trials of youth and was well into adulthood before it happened to me, but I'm not sure that counts for anything.

I realize that these parents have taken this stand with good intentions. I understand they want to give their daughters every possible motivation to wait. I'm all for encouraging that in young people, but I think this method is grossly in error for several reasons.

Let's start with one of the more obvious: how does one define "pure"? Does it mean that both the bride and groom are virgins? What if the bride is a virgin but the groom isn't? Is it still a pure wedding if the couple has engaged in oral sex? What if they've just fooled around a little (making out and touching)? What if they've managed to avoid these pitfalls but one (or both) of them masturbates? Are they still pure? Or what if they're both virgins and they've kept their hands off each other, but one (or both) of them has fooled around a little in a former relationship? Is it a pure wedding if the guy has looked at porn once or twice in his life? Is it pure if the bride indulges in sexual fantasies or reads sexually explicit novels?

Do you see my point? What makes a wedding pure? Now a Fundy would say that neither the bride nor the groom should engage in any of these behaviors in order for the wedding to be pure, but let's get real. We live in the real world. People have real temptations to wrestle with, and those people make mistakes. They have moments of weakness. They do things they later regret. I'm not saying those errors should be glossed over or excused, but they happen and that's what the grace of God is for. If we apply the strictest possible Fundy definition for a pure wedding, every bride who marries would hear her daddy telling her she's gonna have to foot the bill. Even if she's managed to overcome every temptation and is absolutely, inhumanly pure, I have serious doubts that her love munchkin has arrived at the altar as unscathed. Sorry, folks, we're dealing with reality here. I repeat, that's what the grace of God is for!

Here's another issue that such a stand raises: once a person has given up purity, whether through the loss of virginity or through a lesser trespass of boundaries, is there any hope that purity can be restored? Depending on who you ask in the Fundy church, the answer is yes. In fact, Lisa Bevere, a highly respected author and speaker among the Fundies, shares her story in one of her books of how God restored her spiritual virginity. One of the great reassurances the church gives to young men and women who have gotten sexually involved is that God can forgive and restore them spiritually and emotionally to the place that it is just as though they never became sexually impure. So if a young person makes a mistake and then makes it right with God, does that person then get to have a "pure" wedding or is that one of those "unrestorable" things? I, for one, don't think so. I'm not sure how my old friends would feel, but I'd hate to be a girl living in a home where no room is left for mistakes, where a mistake God forgives and forgets might still prevent me from having a "pure" wedding.

A third issue that presents itself is the impact such a stand can make in a girl's relationship with her parents, particularly if this is an issue she's struggling with. Frankly, she's more likely to hide and fight her battles alone than to risk being honest with her parents and face judgment or a hefty wedding ticket. And should she commit the "unthinkable" and actually have sex with a guy, her parents have put her in a position where she can't feel safe in coming to them. As I said before, I believe parents should do what they can to motivate their young people to choose sexual purity, but I don't believe they should do so by promising that a punishment of that nature awaits the weak. A young man or woman who's been raised to value sexual purity feels enough personal shame and sorrow when innocence is lost; heaping more shame and judgment on that person is one of the most unkind, destructive responses a parent or leader can make, as I know all too well from personal experience.

There are some who would argue that when parents don't take a strong stand with their children they encourage or endorse them to practice behaviors that are contrary to the values they want to instill. To some degree I agree, and there is a fine line that a parent must walk when guiding a child into the kind of lifestyle that pleases God. However, having been raised in a very sheltered, traditional environment, I saw more than one close friend dipping into behaviors their parents would have been horrified to learn of. I have to wonder if the strong stand taken by those parents did more to teach their children how to justify wrong behavior and deceive in order to conceal it than to empower their children to overcome temptations by offering a haven to discuss temptations and failures with the knowledge that disclosures of that kind would be greeted with compassion and mercy. Perhaps some of the misconduct I witnessed in my teenage years could have been nipped in the bud and halted before it became serious if my friends could have been open with their parents without fear of embarrassment, disgrace and punishment.

I'm no expert on these matters, and I don't claim to be one. I do, however, see that such systems don't work and have to wrestle with the questions about what alternatives would work. And having known a harsh hand myself, I understand that, to a vulnerable person, a harsh hand may be the worst possible response.

Prayer: Step One, Step Two, Step Three, and You Win the Doorprize!

In Searching for God Knows What Donald Miller made a really great point about how Christians have a tendency to turn spiritual matters into formulas. (LOL. That sentence totally sounds like the opening line of one of those Q & A sections they put in the back of books for study or group discussion.)

I was thinking about it this morning while I was trying to go back to sleep. (LOL. Didn't I come up with a post last week the same way? Must work on this during my waking hours!) I guess my body is really accustomed to getting up and going to work, because I keep waking up ridiculously early, even when I have an extra hour or two to sleep in and don't set my alarm. Anyhow, I woke up, and in my half-sleep state, I found my mind wandering in unexpected directions. And don't tell me that you don't think strange things when you're only half awake! I was thinking about how nice it was to have weekends to sleep in, and how fortunate I am that I don't live in any of the not-too-distant eras in which people kept slaves or servants and never gave them a day off. Sometimes I don't like my job, but I can never complain that I don't get time off on weekends. Whatever I do during the week, those two days are mine to spend as I will.

Call me silly, but these reflections produced a sense of thankfulness in me, and I started talking to God and telling Him how much I appreciated these things: that I have a good job, that I was born when I was born, that I have free time to spend as I will, that I don't have to get up every morning of my life to wait hand-and-foot on people who don't appreciate me. And as I was talking to Him about these things, several other things came to mind that I am thankful for (without realizing it, most of the time), so I thanked Him for those. Then the conversation turned in other directions - a confession of weakness and then a request and then something else - and finally I fell asleep. It was nice to have those minutes with Him. It wasn't an earthshattering sense of Him being close (I've had that a number of times, and it's amazing!); it was more like that feeling of "comfortable" you get when you're hanging with an old friend with whom you are completely free to be yourself and you don't have to put up any kind of front.

Anyway, this experience got me thinking about prayer and all the things I was taught about prayer in my Bible school days, which naturally got me thinking about Donald Miller's distaste for the Christian use of religious formulas. I was always taught that the Lord's Prayer (found in the gospels) was to be used like a model (a.k.a. formula) for how God wanted us to pray. I think this is because Jesus tells the disciples as He's teaching it, "This then is how you should pray..." But leave it to us to fuck it up and miss the point entirely. Rather than looking at the simplicity of the prayer (no big fancy words to impress God, no silly repetitions, no endless droning), we say, "Aha! He gave us a formula. Let us look closer at this prayer to discern the pattern He wants us to use. And if we use it, God will hear us better and answer us more quickly. And if we tack on "in the name of Jesus" at the end, He'll be even happier!" (LOL. To understand that last comment, you must read my earlier post "Pagan Practices.")

I remember being taught this formula and wondering if God had really been hearing my prayers all those years I hadn't used it. I remember making sure I started every prayer off with praise and thanksgiving, even if I had to come up with an insincere "thank you" that I didn't really feel at the moment, and all because I had been convinced that God would like my prayers better if I told Him how great He was before I launched in. (To tell you the truth, that kind of thinking makes God sound rather like an egomaniac looking for His next stroking, which He's not!)

This morning's prayer happened to start with thanksgiving, but it wasn't because I was keeping in step with the formula. That happened to be the predominant emotion I wanted to share with God at the time. At other times there are no feelings of thanksgiving, so I don't offer insincere "You're so great!" remarks because I think I have to. I come and I open up my heart and talk to Him about whatever I'm feeling. I ditch the trappings and traditions in order to treat Him like the father He says He is to me. And let me tell you something, my earthly father wouldn't appreciate it at all if I came to him with formulas, so why would the God who says He is my Father in heaven? If anything, I think formulas interfere with and hinder relationship, and being a Christ follower is nothing if not about relationship.