Growing Up Seventh-Day Adventist: Unequally Yoked

opposites-attract“Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness?”2 Corinthians 6:14 (English Standard Version)

Growing up Seventh-Day Adventist, it was only natural to wonder about the nature of male/female relationships. Everybody growing up wonders about that, but for the SDA it was almost like sacred territory. We saw couples at church, but we were only privy to their public relationship with the Lord, not to their private relationship with each other. But you know how kids are. We talked, and it was pretty easy to place the couples we saw into three categories:

  1. The Ones Who Were Genuinely Happy
  2. The Ones Who Were Pretending
  3. The Ones Who Weren’t Even Pretending

The ones who weren’t even pretending were the ones who we never even saw together. Either the wife would bring the kids to church, the husband would bring the kids to church, or they would both be there, but never in the same place at the same time. These couples tended to be middle-aged with young children. The ones who were pretending could always be seen together, but they were never actually found communicating with each other. And those who were genuinely happy had a seamless nature to how they went about their business while at the same time tending to each other. Those couples were usually smiling, and had an ease to them that we could tell the other couples obviously envied.

But one thing that was hardly ever in question was that each couple we saw at church were in fact baptized Seventh-Day Adventists. While there may have been degrees of faith, the faith itself was never in doubt. Apparently this isn’t so clear-cut in some other religions, but I didn’t know anything about that then. I assumed that everyone who was married was “equally yoked,” meaning that they were of the same religion. I also assumed back then that when I grew up I, too, would marry a Seventh-Day Adventist and raise Seventh-Day Adventist children together with her. That assumption would prove false. Continue reading “Growing Up Seventh-Day Adventist: Unequally Yoked”

realisticlove.com

okcupidWouldn’t it be refreshing to see a dating site where people had to tell it like it is instead of being able to lie about every little thing?

I’m a 65-year-old, balding man with a predilection for scratching myself often, whenever the mood strikes. Been engaged five times but none of them ever turned into marriage. Got eight kids, though, by six different women, none of whom I’m on speaking terms with now. But I’m a good catch, so inbox me for more details. Oh, and the photos of me are all selfies done yesterday in good lighting so you can clearly see my beer gut. And I’m broke, so if we get together you’re paying.

I would kill to see a site like that out there. I mean, maybe there’s someone for this guy who doesn’t mind all the issues and who would give him a chance anyway. I often hear people talk about how they don’t judge others, but maybe that goes for everything except love. If there was a site called realisticlove.com perhaps no one would ever find love there, if everyone was like the guy above anyway.

Of course being completely honest about ourselves online is more difficult than roping a bull in a kitchen. Because having the screen between you and the other person makes it so easy to fib just a little bit. You have a large mid-section… just say you’re “full-figured.” You wear huge pop-bottle glasses… ditch them for the already airbrushed photo. You are already in an unfulfilling relationship… just type “single,” and when you find someone else willing to tolerate you, that’s your exit.

I’m a 24-year-old girl with a thick mustache and chronic halitosis. I’m huge into knitting, and I snore like a tractor running over rocks. I can’t go out into the sunlight because my skin is way too sensitive for that, and I live on a steady diet of snails imported from Israel. They’re wicked expensive, but my mother, who I still live with, pays for them with the money she gets from selling her foodstamps to the couple who live in the box. If you want to get together sometime I am free whenever. Hit me up.

Continue reading “realisticlove.com”

I Should Have At Least Called

breakup-heartsI broke up with a girl. On Valentine’s Day. Over e-mail. I know. It was bad. I knew it at the time, too, but I felt like I didn’t have any choice in the matter. She was obsessed.

Unrequited love, I know thee well old friend. I had been on the other side of it for so long it felt utterly strange to have someone want me in a way I didn’t want her. And as such, I had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. I know, this isn’t make you feel any better about what I did and how I did it, but I didn’t know another way.

We met at the Temple University Library, in the reference section. No, it wasn’t the premier hangout spot on campus, over by the microfiche machines, but it was where we both happened to be at the time. You see, she worked in that dusty archive, and I was a slave to the circulation desk upstairs, on a mission at the time to find something for a patron. I have no clue what it was after all this time, but suffice it to say I had a question about microfiche. And we met.

I would say that our eyes met across the room and we clicked instantly, but I would be lying. She was mousy and I was gangly. We both wore glasses so that meant we were supposed to be together, right? Obviously in her mind we were. I found out later that she had her eye on me since I first started working at the library, and had just been looking for her opportunity to talk to me. Oh boy.

It wasn’t like I was drowning in dates, though, so we went out. And it wasn’t horrible. Seriously, it ended in us holding hands, which was sweet, but which was also initiated by her, and I would have felt bad telling her no. That it was too soon. That I was completely unsure if there should be a second date. Yet there was, and a third, and a fourth. All because I didn’t know how to approach her to say that I didn’t want to be her boyfriend. Continue reading “I Should Have At Least Called”

Chatting With Lexi: On Love

thMy daughter, Lexi, is the epitome of the inquisitive child. From the moment she learned how to speak (her first word was “book”) she has been asking questions seemingly nonstop, and her questions make me think. Sometimes I’m able to answer them easily, (“Daddy, what’s a touchdown?”), and other times I’m stumped, (“Daddy, who makes the eyes for stuffed animals?”), but I’m never bored with her. Believe me. Some times it drives me crazy, I’ll admit, because for every answer there’s another question, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s what makes her special, and what makes her my daughter.

This week we had a conversation about love:

Lexi: Daddy, what’s love?

Me: Well, love is when you care about somebody a whole lot.

Lexi: But I love the cats.

Me: Um, animals count too.

Lexi: But animals aren’t people.

Me: It’s okay. If you care about anything a whole lot you can love it, or them.

Lexi: I thought love had to be something that can be returned to you.

Me: What do you mean?

Lexi: Like, I love you, so you love me too.

Me: You know I don’t love you because you love me, right?

Lexi: So, if I didn’t love you, you would still love me? Continue reading “Chatting With Lexi: On Love”

First Love

You know, I almost married the girl. It was a whirlwind romance, born in summer, gestated in fall, and tested in a harsh winter, followed by an even harsher spring. We met, we wooed, we made exchange of vows (of the future marriage kind, not of the marriage itself kind), and I even spent the … Continue reading First Love

The First Cut…

“The first cut is the deepest. Baby, I know.” – Cat Stevens

You know, I first heard the Rod Stewart version of this song umpteen years ago, and I wondered what he was talking about. I had some idea that the word “cut” was metaphorical, but that was about where it ended. Then, some years later, I had my heart broken by the one girl I thought would never break my heart, and I understood in a split second what Rod had been singing about those years before. It reminds me of the old adage that some things you just have to go through to be able to understand them. People can tell you until they’re blue in the face about heartbreak, but you won’t ever truly “get” it until you’ve had your heart ripped in two. Continue reading “The First Cut…”