Swinging and Falling?

This morning, I caught myself having a conversation about my love life with the dog.It probably sounds strange, but Elli is a fantastic listener, and has yet to offer any unsolicited advice such as, “You should get married.”

The couple of times people have said that, I have contemplated saying, “What a brilliant idea! Why didn’t I think of it?” But since I like to avoid conflict, I have responded politely, “Getting married would be nice.” And I have stopped myself from asking: “But to whom?” I have found it best to avoid any comments that could get them thinking about “fixing” me up with someone, which has never gone as planned.

What gets me is that married people generally feel sorry for single people. One woman, without knowing me very well, patted my arm with sympathetic eyes, “Don’t worry, you’ll meet someone…”

And then it felt as if I ought to comfort her. And I wondered why being single is treated by so many like a disease.

It’s not that I prefer being single. The fact is that few spiritually grounded, emotionally healthy, employed, reciprocity-minded fish swim in the thirty-something dating pond. So while it is good and fine for people to say, “You should get married,” I think that an equivalent statement might be, “You should join Cirque du Soleil.” No doubt, I could sign up for a trapeze class or Match.Com. I could devote hours to swinging through the air and falling on a net.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not opposed to Internet dating. Good friends have met good life partners online. And I think that one is probably as likely to meet a nice stranger online as a nice stranger in a church.

Also, I actually tried Internet dating, and, for whatever reasons, the men who approached me seemed to need a pastor more than a girlfriend. Here’s what I mean—One man who responded to my profile wanted to find a Proverbs 31 woman. Staring at his photo, I resisted the urge to say that the Proverbs 31 woman was actually a metaphor for wisdom and not a real person (pointing that out upon first meeting seemed inappropriate).  I also did not mention praising God that no woman has ever been that perfect! Reflecting on my flaws, I knew that I could never measure up to what he wanted, and so I moved onto other messages.

Another man, whose profile was a smiley face, because he had not included a photo, expressed wanting to find a “converted Victoria’s Secret model.” Pondering the wish, all I could think was, “That’s it? That’s all you want?” I didn’t fault him for wanting an attractive spouse. I just wondered what they would have in common after her chest needed a special bra to keep it from drooping past her ankles later in life.

*More to Come…

by Amy Rasmussen (copyright, 2009)

An Unraveling To Remember

I was thinking, recently, about what happened when Paradise went up in smoke. What came to mind were two people clutching fig leaves in front of their genitals.

“Hello! Where are you?” A friendly voice called through the Garden.

 God rounded a bush and burst out laughing over the absurdity of the man and woman attempting to cover their shamed consciences with fig leaves. It had to have been awkward—their embarrassment in the Presence of the One who had never intended embarrassment. Did the couple laugh nervously, reaching their free hands for more leaves from a nearby branch? I have wondered if, prior to that, their eyes opened, similar to stumbling upon skinny-dippers on a Sunday stroll through the woods. And did they shield their eyes as their differences spiraled into an embarrassing vortex? 

“Who told you that you are naked?” God inquired, probably through tears.

“It was the woman’s fault,” he said. “Incidentally, you gave her to me…”

“Well, it was the serpent’s fault,” she said.

 Both stared at their feet.

 Genesis doesn’t tell us everything that transpired prior to that conversation. “This looks good!” she might have said, fingering the fruit. “You should try some and see what happens!”

Curiosity had to have gotten the better of them. I have often wondered if the first temptation was less about eating fruit and more about treating each other like guinea pigs.

“No, really,” he might have responded with a smile, “Ladies first!”

“Well, if you put it that way…” Maybe she blushed before delicately sinking her teeth in the fruit.

 In that moment, I have wondered if he wasn’t waiting to see if she would melt or blow up! There’s a lot we don’t know about those moments. But obviously the woman was confused over the snake’s deceptive advice and, for whatever reason, the man watched her– maybe even hoisted her up the tree– before taking a bite.

by Amy Rasmussen (copyright, 2009)

A Midsummer Night’s Experiment

One summer night, when I was twelve, I began questioning what the Bible says about nakedness. The question hit me in the shower. As water sprayed my tomboyish legs, I realized that I felt zero shame. A lifetime of Sunday school classes had cultivated an awareness of what happened to Adam and Eve upon the discovery of their nakedness after eating the forbidden fruit. I did not know what to think about that when, honestly, being naked in the shower felt great. Toweling off, I glanced in the mirror. Still no shame! Could the Bible be wrong? It seemed unwise to make a hasty decision about the matter, and so I decided to do some testing.

Dropping the towel, I stepped through the doorway of my younger sister’s bedroom: “Come on, we’re going skinny dipping!”

As usual, Heather did not question what I said we should do.  She expressed no concern that my ideas sometimes resulted in pain or getting in trouble. Earlier in childhood, I had convinced her to jump off a shed with me while holding onto an umbrella. Not surprisingly, the experience had taught us important lessons about fiction and gravity!

I’m not sure where our parents had gone that night, maybe the store or Bible study. For the most part, I was a responsible kid, and that enabled leeway for some creative experiments when they left me in charge. Stepping across the veranda of the house, Heather and I moved toward the irrigation ditch that ran adjacent to the gravel lane, leading past three horses and a goat, toward the house. Inhaling the soft, warm air, my mouth widened into a smile—Walking around naked was fun!

Heather knew as well as I did what the Bible said about nakedness. And she did not appear to be having any troubles. In the water, we marveled at the stars, letting the current carry us gracefully through a moonlit corridor bordered by grass and trees. As the water brushed my skin, I wondered how something so great could be shameful. Skinny dipping was fun!

Reaching a place where weeping willow branches hung, like leafy ropes from heaven, we suspended ourselves over the water, spinning like tops. A light suddenly flashed, illuminating the water and us swinging in the branches. We screamed, groping for willow leaves to hide us from the elderly man squinting in our direction. Mr. O., our retired neighbor, did not look amused. Tripping over each other, we scampered out of the ditch. Skinny dipping no longer seemed fun! Self-consciously, we leaped across the lawn, onto the veranda, through the front door of the house. Breathing hard, embarrassment engulfed me. Heather’s expression mirrored my shame. And for the first time, I wondered if God’s Word might actually have something important to say.

by Amy Rasmussen (copyright, 2009)