Here Comes the Bride February 28, 2011

Faith is not logical. It does not make sense. Sometimes the Lord asks you to do things and you cannot see why on earth it would be a good decision. Every Sunday millions of people sit on pews and grip their Bibles praying the Lord will never ask them to move to some small village in Africa without air conditioning, cable or high-speed Internet. What would they do without The Jersey Shore and Facebook for the rest of their lives? Moving to Africa doesn’t scare me. Joining a tiny, start-up church with literally no singles ministry (or single people), well that’s downright ridiculous. This is not what I had in mind when I moved across the country. However, regardless of every excuse I created, the conclusion was the same. Mr. Wrong was the guy for me and it was time to take the plunge.

 

So now comes the good part – I was finally ready to commit; but the big question is, how on earth do I tell Mr. Wrong? In “normal” churches you walk the aisle, fill out the card, letters are sent, vows of sorts are exchanged to ensure the only people on the church role sheet are “real Christians”…then magically you are a member. It’s all very much like a wedding minus the white dress and expensive reception. Sometimes you do get cookies and punch though.

 

Life with Mr. Wrong was quite a bit different though. So after months of fighting the decision, I sent an email to the pastor that said, “I’m in.” That was it. Nothing magical. But in the end let’s face facts; I’m much more into the eloping thing then the big production anyway.

 

I realize my Baptist parents and friends probably looked at this marriage like a drunken exchange of vows in front of a witch doctor in Mexico, but the Lord was calling me to commit, not make a production out of the whole thing. The Lord calls couples to get married, not to throw a huge party.

 

I remember sitting in churches when I was younger and the preacher making people feel so guilty that they eventually joined the church. It was the whole, “If you have been coming here a long time and haven’t made it official then maybe the Lord is calling you to commit your life to the church today” speech. I don’t remember that speech in Acts, but apparently it’s somewhere in the commentary they only share with soon to be pastors at seminary. Looking back it all seems so silly. Even when I was in college, it was a requirement to join the church in order to serve in any leadership capacity (including teaching a Bible study). This was a practice I happily went along with in order to make the marriage official and recognized by others. Actually, to this day my official membership still resides at the church I went to in college because it was just too much work to switch memberships back to my parent’s church after college. Then when I moved and married Mr. Wrong he didn’t really care about the whole letter, official membership process so he never contacted my former church. Mr. Wrong is liberal like that. He is non denominational and doesn’t need to answer to a convention with numbers so that he can get higher voting power. Sadly, that last sentence wasn’t me being melodramatic. If you are finding out this truth in my blog I’m so sorry. That’s just the way it works.

 

So there you go, just go ahead and call me Mrs. Wrong. We are registered at Target and Bed Bath and Beyond.

 

Date #12 – Mr. Perfect becomes…even more perfect? December 30, 2010

I was thrilled to go on a second date with Mr. Perfect. I was relieved to find there were normal churches still out there. It was like being the girl who found the one good guy in the sleazy corner bar. Jackpot. This time I even ran into a few girls from work in the parking lot. They had been members of the church for a few months and loved it. It’s like finding out you have a ton of legit mutual friends with a guy on the second date. This time around we sang a little Matt Redman and Chris Tomlin with a few amen’s on the side. I felt like this was really a place I could call home with no concerns or regrets.

The great dinner date led to dessert and I went to the singles Bible study that Sunday night. It felt a little like a youth group for 20 something’s but as far as small groups were concerned this was the best yet. It was love at first sight when the guy who led the Bible study got up to pray – completely in football terms (love for the church, not the guy). I opened my eyes half way through just to see for myself it was really happening. As soon as he dropped the term “audible” I was ready to walk down the aisle and become Mrs. Perfect. Later I found out the guy leading it was an LSU grad (which obviously made me question his salvation).

At the youth group for 20 something’s we even got to pray over three people going to Kenya the next week on a mission trip. I soon learned Mr. Perfect had helped to start a flourishing church near Mathare Valley. I have never been to Kenya, but it’s one of the passions and burdens of my heart. If I committed to Mr. Perfect that dream of going myself could easily become a reality. It was great just to know from date number two that me and Mr. Perfect were already on the same page.

The only downside is that they did make us divide up into groups for discussion after football term guy preached. That was a little uncomfortable, but it introduced me to some really sweet girls. They even invited me out to coffee afterward, which I happily accepted. Wow, so now I was going out for drinks after dessert after dinner.

Mr. Perfect was batting 1,000. There was no reason for me to question the relationship. I had found the guy I had spent months looking for. I wish I could tell you I walked the aisle and filled out the membership card that day. I wish I could tell you there was no doubt in my mind. But I can’t, not even close. The harder I tried to push Mr. Wrong out of my mind the more present he became. Even the sermons at Mr. Perfect made it more clear to me that I wasn’t supposed to commit to him.

I found my dream guy who had a great job, great friends, and could offer me all the opportunities I wanted, and yet I was seriously considering walking away from him for the guy who had no checkmarks on my list except for a passionate love for Christ.

I’m the queen of logic. For me love is not a feeling; it’s a collection of facts. I was starting to look for Mr. Perfect’s flaws. That is how we get out of relationships when we don’t have a real reason, right? We just make up flaws, or if you are Baptist you pull the “God told me to break up with you” card. Better yet, I could always go for the slightly less spiritual but always reliable stand by of, “it’s not you, it’s me.” But I knew I had to figure out something fast. It was decision time.

Date #11 – Love Where You Least Expect It July 7, 2010

By the time date #11 rolled around I was fresh out of ideas and fresh out of other people’s ideas. Someone mentioned they had a friend of a friend who had great things to say about a church I had yet to try out so I decided to check it out online. It’s kind of like Facebook stalking a guy before you actually go out with him. Everything seemed ok so I figured why not give it a try?

I got to the church about five minutes before the service started and the sanctuary was packed. I could barely find a seat and they even had overflow chairs setup in the foyer so latecomers could watch through glass windows and listen through the sound system. However it only took me a few minutes to look around and realize I was a little out of place.

If I was worried about being politically correct I would tell you it was a very culturally diverse congregation. But at the risk of sounding racist, I’m just going to go ahead and say it…it was a predominately black church and I’m as much of a white girl as they come.

Now let me just set the stage a little. Black churches in the south are a bit…well, spirited. There is a lot of yelling and hand raising and dancing around. I was pretty much bracing myself for the worst. However, as I soon as the service started I found out black churches are quite a bit different out west. First, because we aren’t really known for having minorities out here, the congregation was still about 40 percent white. As irony would have it, when the service started it was the closest thing to my church at home that I had seen in two months. I don’t know what black church sings Billy and Cindy Foot and Todd Agnew. But it happened. The congregation was a little more responsive during the message than my church at home, but that was about the only difference. Clearly here they leave the crazy stuff up to the white folk. Maybe I should have been visiting black churches all along.

Despite all odds, I really liked this church. I would even go as far to say he had Mr. Perfect potential. At this point he was at least worthy of a second date. I felt at home at the church and I was excited about all the ministries they had and that the order of service was almost identical to my church at home. I was excited I finally found a church I could join without question.

Can I get an amen?

Moving is Like Halloween June 17, 2010

Halloween is an interesting holiday and it only gets more interesting the older you get. I’m not one for dressing up. I like the excuse to have a themed party but I’ll never win a costume contest that’s for sure. Plus costumes are so uncomfortable. How are you supposed to relax and enjoy yourself when you’re dressed as a giant gumball or have such an elaborate getup that you can’t even sit down?

The most interesting thing though is that every October 31, every girl can dress like a complete slut without fear of judgment. Girls have managed to turn every costume into lingerie. I’m convinced. I even saw a slutty Snow White at a party last year. Wonderful, you have turned a childhood icon into a prostitute. Turns out slutty Snow White already knew the slutty fairy from a pole dancing class, so maybe their consumes weren’t as much of a stretch for them. True story my friends.

Anyway, in most cases, because it’s Halloween and you are supposed to be someone else for the night there is no judgment. The slutty Cinderella will turn back into a studious do-gooder the next morning. It never fails. The transformation is mind blowing. I’m convinced there are girls out there with enough talent to dress as a dinosaur and make it risqué. But hey, this is the one night each year you can get away with it so I say more power to you.

Like I said in one of my first blogs, a slut in the Christian world is not the girl who wears short shorts and tank tops to church or the girl who gets caught making out with the cutest guy in the youth group in the back of the 15 passenger van. The slut in the Christian world is referred to as the church hopper. It’s the guy or girl who goes to a different church every few months because they are always searching for the next best thing. Church hoppers are seen as shallow because they only want to be entertained and selfish because they only take and never serve. In the Christian world you never call someone a church hopper to their face. You might as well just call them a whore. It’s that serious.

However, there is one occasion like Halloween when you can get away with being a slut without the risk of judgment. This is when you move. Moving is to Christians what Halloween is to the good girl who secretly wants to be everything she is outwardly against. Moving is a 6 month (at least) pass to try as many churches as you want to without any pressure to commit or settle down too quickly. You don’t have to serve and you get to sit back and watch people serve you.

When I went to college I joined the first church I visited and was going on a mission trip by Spring Break. Essentially this is my first opportunity to really slut it up and I am taking full advantage. I mean 10 dates in a month and a half…Pamela Anderson and Angelina Jolie just need to watch out. I’m putting them to shame. And the best part is this behavior is actually encouraged, but only for a few months. What a strange world we Christians live in.

Date #10 – 3rd Date for Ms. Fear of Commitment = BIG Deal! May 13, 2010

I’m like a boy in that commitment absolutely terrifies me. Once I’m committed I’m committed and I’m more loyal Lassie. But getting to that point is a long and torturous road for everyone involved. It’s not that I’m worried a better option will come along. I worry that I am making a promise I won’t be able to keep. Really it comes down to the fact that I am terrified of failure and driven by my desire to be the best. If I’m going to do something I want to be the best at it and until I know that it’s within my grasp I am going to steer clear of the commitment.

This is probably my biggest hold-up with marriage. You stand up there in an overpriced, puffy dress and promise in front of God, (like he isn’t always watching anyway) your family, your closest friends, and some of your Dad’s business associates you have never met, to always honor, cherish and obey. Yet, who besides Jesus can actually live up to that? Who keeps that promise? Chances are real good you’ll break it before you even make it to the reception, and definitely before you get home from the honeymoon. That first time he accidentally steals the covers or leaves wet towels on the floor I assure you, it’s on.

When it comes to settling down at a church it’s no different. So you can imagine I was when I went on my 3^rd date with Mr. Wrong. At this point the church had not officially started yet so they were only having prayer meetings every other week. Even though it was only my third time going to the church, technically we had been dating for about a month. I knew a DTR was brewing and I just wasn’t ready for it. So what did I do? I started to emotionally distance myself as much as I could, play a little hard to get if you will.

Honestly, I wasn’t really feeling like myself the night of my third date with Mr. Wrong. I was tired and not feeling very social. It was one of those nights I wished I were dating a big church so I could sneak in the back and not have to talk to anyone. At a start-up church prayer meeting that isn’t exactly a possibility. In reality that is a great thing, but that night I just wasn’t in the mood for church. Normally I would have faked it, put on a smile, and forced myself to be social. But since I was trying to push this guy away I figured there wasn’t much of a point in putting on an act. So I snuck in, talked to as few people as possible, and then left as soon as it was over. I wasn’t rude or anything but the honeymoon phase was definitely over.

Despite my best efforts, I came home that night even more convinced my future was with Mr. Wrong. It was that gnawing feeling and that the only time I felt at peace was when I was at that church and with those people. To top it all off I even got a Facebook message from the pastor the next day saying he was sorry we didn’t get the chance to talk after church. He just wanted to check in and make sure I was doing ok. Wow, who does that? I was starting to think these people actually cared about me! And more importantly, why was it so surprising?

Essentially I knew what I needed to do but I just wasn’t ready yet. I wasn’t sure what exactly would make me ready, and I didn’t need the burning bush because there was no question where I needed to be. But at the end of the day my fear of commitment was getting the best of me. I was honestly living in complete and blatant disobedience to what I was being called to do. Every morning I woke up and knew it. But I just wasn’t ready to give up on what I had pictured. I wasn’t ready to commit. Consequently, for the time being I was going to continue to pretend I had zero interest in Mr. Wrong.

Date #9 – The Guy From the Other Side of the Tracks May 11, 2010

I’m what you call a rule follower. I secretly wish I was a rebel, but at the end of the day I like my rules and I like structure. Rules were not meant to be broken, they were made to be followed because if I don’t I will spend the whole day feeling guilty about it. I’ve never dated anyone my parents didn’t approve of and I’ve always been the “good kid” in my family. Actually I prefer the term “good kid” to the other terms by brothers have come up with such as, suck up, teacher’s pet, the favorite, the perfect child, etc.

I am sure I’ve mentioned this before, but I was raised Baptist. I have never been anything but Baptist and I had no intention of changing that, well unless I was trying out that whole nondenominational thing. See, turning my back on all denominations is one thing, but trading teams and picking one of the Baptists’ biggest competitors was completely different. You can’t grow up a Braves fan and then one day wake up and throw on a Mets cap.

But desperate times call for desperate measures. I was starting to feel like the 40 year old woman who lives alone with lots of cats…you know, the one with “the gift.” If you aren’t Baptist you might not get that joke. I feel like other denominations just go ahead and admit that singleness can be crappy. So anyway, I decided to do what I vowed I would never do. I visited the Presbyterian church. My mom swore to me it was exactly the same as Baptist but they let you drink. Wow, these Presbyterians already had a point on the board and we haven’t even started. This could be awesome. Now I just needed to pretend to be Presbyterian, whatever that means. I knew I was about to date the guy from the other side of the tracks, but he didn’t need to know I was from the other side of town. I could fake it. No one needed to know I was a Baptist girl.

Even though I was confident I could keep my secret under wraps, when it came date time I decided to take every precaution, meaning a thorough investigation of their Website. Everything seemed to check out just fine. Actually, let me go ahead and quote the Website just so you don’t think I’m misleading you:

“We have a blended style of worship that uses everything from traditional hymns and more modern worship songs.”

“First and foremost come as you are. But just in case you’re wondering how most people around here will be dressed it’s pretty broad. A lot of guys wear khakis or jeans and a polo or button up shirt. Ladies wear jeans, pants, skirts and dresses.”

Sounds great right? The perfect blend of traditional church with a contemporary vibe. I can wear my cute summer dresses in the summer and jeans on the cold days. Plus, the worship will be a great mix of the old hymns I grew up with along with the newest Christian hits to keep things interesting.

Just when I was starting to get my hopes up I learned a big lesson…churches lie. There was no “blended” or “jeans” to be found in this place. What they did have however was an organ, choir, and plenty of men in suits. In fact, we sang straight from the hymnal because they didn’t have any screens. I know, what church in 2010 doesn’t have screens? In fact, just so you know I’m not exaggerating let me run you through the order of service:

-Song written by The Getty’s (Just in case you didn’t know these are people who wrote In Christ Alone and well, that is pretty much their only hit.)

-Call to Worship reading from Rev. 5 and 1 Cor. 5

-Hymn of Praise #295

-Choral Praise – aka another song by The Getty’s but this time led by the choir

-Prayer of Psalms from Psalm 32:1-6

-Time of silence for confession of sin (yeah, it was awkward)

-An “Assurance of Pardon” by the pastor

-Another song written by…you guessed it, The Getty’s.

-Prayer and Dedication

-Tithes and Offering along with another hymn

-Sermon on “Suffering for Doing Good”

-Hymn of Response #508

-Reciting of Apostles Creed

-Ascription of Praise

-Words of Instruction (pastors says things and you repeat things back)

-Sacrament of Holy Communion (side note: this church had the BEST communion I’ve ever had. It was pound cake instead of stale wafers…what a pleasant surprise! I was hoping it would be real wine too, but I was satisfied with just the awesome bread.)

-Singing of Doxology and dismissal

Ok, now my issue is not that it’s a traditional church or that things were very ceremonial. My issue is that NO PART of this set list is “blended” or “come as you are.” Let’s just go ahead and state the obvious here folks, if there isn’t a trace of a little Chris Tomlin or some Mighty to Save, well, it’s not blended. The Getty improve concert doesn’t make it blended by anyone else’s standards except for the guy from the other side of the tracks.

By the time I made it to Sunday School this poor guy didn’t have a chance. Boys, once you lie that early on in a relationship there is little you can do to rectify the situation. It’s done before it even starts. However, the people in the singles class were actually very sweet and friendly. But it figures the only people I really bonded with were the one married couple that met in the class, got married a few months ago, and were too chicken to move up to the married class. They even invited me out to lunch afterward, but the date had already been over for hours. There was no chance I would have lunch too. If there is no connection at dinner or the movie then why tack on dessert? It’s just a waste of my time and your money. In fact, the date was so over that I even revealed my big secret…I was Baptist. For me revealing secrets on the first date doesn’t mean I feel comfortable with you. It means the date is so over that I have nothing to loose and could care less what you think of me.

Brace yourself because the best part of this story has yet to come. One of my favorite people from work is a deacon at that church. I saw him as he was helping to pass the silver plates covered in lace for the Sacrament of Holy Communion. I mentioned to him the following Monday that I visited his church. He apologized because the service is usually a lot more conservative and I just happened to be there on one of the really contemporary weeks. Hold the phone, did you say I was there on a contemporary week? Apparently it gets even more conservative? Now this I can’t even picture. This guy has gone from the guy from the other side of the tracks to the guy from the other side of the globe. Well, no matter who this guy was there was one thing I knew for sure. He was down for the count.

But then again, maybe we deserve each other. I mean I wasn’t completely honest on our date either. I spent 90 percent of the time pretending to be Presbyterian even though I had never been in a Presbyterian church in my life. However, you have to take into account that pop culture teaches us this could be fate. The date with the guy from the other side of the tracks could be like one of those first dates you see in the movies where both people are perfect for each other but they don’t know it because they both lie on the first date to make themselves look better. Or like in Must Love Dogs where they meet at a dog park and borrow a friend or family member’s dog because they don’t actually have their own. Eventually when the truth comes out they find their one true love. But then again, life is not a movie and even reality TV isn’t real; and I’ve never been one for romance anyway. If the guy from the other side of the tracks was my true love, well, then “the gift” is looking more and more like Christmas and less and less like a curse.

Flowers, for me? April 14, 2010

I

like to be in control, and when it comes to dating, my romantic life is no exception. Although I guess chivalry is nice, the whole don’t call me I’ll call you policy is much safer. That is why when it comes to church visits I have a strict policy about visitor cards…I refuse to fill them out. The only thing worse than a terrible first date is knowing the guy with no chance now has your number and address. You might as well start putting together an easy letdown speech now because it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to use it.

When I went on my date with Mr. Conservative I was forced to sign a visitor’s card. The Sunday School class was too small to avoid it and in fact they asked if they could put my name on the role. Wow, what a first date. Why don’t we just go to the courthouse now? Obviously things were moving way too fast so I pulled a brilliant move, dodged the commitment, and got out of there with only a signed commitment card. I thought I had done well until the doorbell rang a few days later.

I had been home from work for maybe 30 minutes when I opened the door to find an older man holding a plate of cookies and a few brochures. He said he just wanted to stop by and thank me for visiting the church and answer any questions I might have. I didn’t know churches still had visitation. But this was Mr. Conservative we were talking about so why was I so surprised? When my roommate came home and saw the cookies I answered her puzzled look with, “Those are flowers from the guy I went on a date with last weekend.”

Poor Mr. Conservative thought flowers would be enough to lure me onto a second date. Unfortunately for him even if he delivered flowers every week for the next month he still wouldn’t have a chance. This is why I don’t fill out commitment cards. I try to avoid this scenario. Oh well, what can you do but enjoy the cookies.

Date #8 – Mr. Long Distance April 8, 2010

Long distance relationships are terrible. I was in a long distance relationship once. I vowed to never do it again and I wouldn’t wish that experience on my worst enemy. My eighth date in the church hunt forced me to break all my rules from the beginning but because I was so desperate to find a good guy I was willing to do almost anything to make a relationship work.

This church had two campuses each on a different side of town. The pastor would rotate between the two each week so that one heard the sermon live while the other saw a live broadcast. I was lucky enough to visit the main campus on the Sunday he was live. However I realized even though the preaching was live the worship was not. This was probably one of the most confusing services I had ever been to. The welcome and announcements were done at the other campus along with the special music.

Side note, it is not necessary to respond with good morning to the lady doing the announcements at the other campus. She can’t hear or see you and it’s just plain awkward to watch a congregation responds to a screen. It is also not necessary to applaud after the special music when it too is being broadcasted. He cannot hear or see you either. It’s like applauding after a movie. It just doesn’t make sense.

Then the worship started and the super trendy worship leader got everyone pumped up by yelling, “What’s up [insert name of church]!” Everyone yelled and applauded (probably at both campuses) then we started the first song. When the second song rolled around I started to notice that although the band in front of me was still singing it was an entirely different group of people on the screen. So apparently they even switch off songs in worship. One campus leads one and then the other campus leads one. Wow, you really have to pay attention to keep up, but at least I found a church that really loves to share. In that respect they are a great model of the church in Acts.

Looking back I realized that I had been warned about Mr. Long Distance. Someone at work found out I was planning to visit Mr. Long Distance and responded with, “Oh, you will love that church. The production is amazing.” Ok, so that in itself should have been a red flag. The person at work was right though. The production was amazing. The transitions were seamless. However, maybe in their production meetings they have completely missed the point here. Have we not realized that Christian concerts and church services are not supposed to be interchangeable?

Then there is the whole long distance thing to worry about. I mean these are two entirely different groups of people. God could be working in one congregation entirely differently then he is at the second. I felt like there was no room in the set list for the possibility that the Holy Spirit might show up and need to change a few things. This was so scheduled that we run the risk of missing the point entirely. The point is transformation of lives not a mistake-free production.

Now let me backup for a second. For a combined six months of my life I have worked in the world of Christian event ministry. I helped to setup, teardown, and work camps for teenagers. There were sets, bands, actors and seasoned speakers. We worked with big names (in the Christian industry) and put on impressive productions. I believe in camp and I believe in event ministry, mostly because my life has been changed by it. However, I know the people I worked at those events with. I know their hearts and passions. And I also know that they are all members of churches with services that look nothing like camp. They look nothing like a high-energy production. In fact, given the option I would venture to say no one on event staff would even consider joining a church that was a camp-like production every week. Why? Because it’s not real. At some point you have to come down off the mountain and answer the question, is God’s Word really enough for me? If we took away all the lights and cameras and jumbo screens and professionals would I still want to come? When you get used to a production week after week it’s way too easy to lose your sense of who God really is and what church really is.

I got in my car that day telling myself over and over that I could make this work with Mr. Long Distance. But by the time I got home I was sure I couldn’t. Every once in a while you hear a success story about a long-distance relationship and for some reason that gives the rest of us hope that we too can be the next success story. But the reality is most of the time you put the words long distance before the word relationship it’s pretty much a death sentence. Chances are after months and possibly even years of agonizing, feeling lonely, and relying on grand gestures to keep things afloat; the relationship goes up in flames. I swore I would never do long distance again and this time I was sticking by my promise.

Date #7 – Round 2 with Mr. Wrong April 6, 2010

Dating is exhausting and bad dates are even more exhausting. By this point in my search for the perfect guy I was tired of church and in desperate need of Jesus. Interesting how those two aren’t always positively correlated. After realizing my long-term relationship with Mr. Conservative had come to a close I did what most heart-broken single girls do. I ran straight into the arms of the ex’s complete opposite, Mr. Wrong.

Despite the fact that Mr. Wrong knew I didn’t want a relationship and that he was a rebound guy at best, he still welcomed me with open arms. We had a second date that was as great as the first. The weather was terrible so I was late, but Mr. Wrong didn’t care. He was just happy to see me and hear I was doing well.

The official start-up date of the church was getting closer and leadership teams were starting to be formed. Youth, kids and women’s ministries were starting to develop and things were starting to come together. A young couple was having a baby that week and the whole church was coordinating meals so they would not have to worry about cooking for at least two weeks. I could not get over all the opportunities to serve and the excitement of the congregation. I had never met a group of people so passionate about the study of God’s Word and so ready to follow wherever the Lord leads. Plus they were just so sweet and genuine. Mr. Wrong even asked me how my other dates were going and told me that no matter what happens I was welcome any time. Wait a minute; you’re a church. Aren’t you supposed to be in constant competition with other churches? What is this open door, come as you are, we will love you no matter what policy? This is only supposed to exist in theory.

I mean not one person on staff is even receiving a paycheck from the church and half the staff is moving their families from the other side of the country to a take a job with zero salary just to help lead this church. It doesn’t get much more exciting than that. Anytime you decide to join a church led by people that crazy you know something awesome is about to happen.

I got home that night with the same starry-eyed look I had after date number one with Mr. Wrong. I don’t know what it is about this guy but I just couldn’t get him out of my head. It was actually getting a little frightening. How on earth was I going to explain Mr. Wrong to my friends and family? I moved to the Christian Mecca. My parents are expecting me to join the world’s leader in mega churches and here I am doodling Mrs. Wrong in my spiral notebook. Maybe this was just a middle school crush after all. Girls always go for the guy they can’t have. This is totally normal. I just need to find Mr. Perfect quickly so I can get over Mr. Wrong and move on with my life the way I pictured it. This was stupid. I just need to keep pressing on. The perfect guy is out there and I will find him even if it kills me.

Date #6 – Mr. Conservative March 26, 2010

There is a lot to be said for conservative guys. They are usually smart, stable and dependable. You always know exactly what to expect and for someone who hates surprises it’s a pretty endearing quality. The older I get the more liberal I become, but as much as I try to fight it, I am a pretty conservative girl. With the exception of a few years in middle school I always went to First Baptist of whatever city I was living in. Even for my family’s three-year hiatus from First Baptist we still went to a church with the word Baptist in its name. So don’t let my openness to social drinking, tattoos, hand raising, and jeans on a Sunday morning fool you. I am as Baptist as they come.

Unfortunately I still feel like I have something to prove because I didn’t get the chance to sow my wild oats in college. I wandered into a First Baptist my first Sunday there and immediately fell in love with the people and the college ministry. Some of my best friends in the world came from that church. So even though I went to college with the intent of going wild and joining a nondenominational church, it just didn’t work out. But here I had a second chance. It was time to turn my back on Mr. Conservative. However, after the blunders with Mr. Super Cool, Mr. Creativity, and of course Mr. Wrong who I was still trying to convince myself didn’t have a chance, I thought maybe it was time to go back to what I knew to be safe. So I went to the one Baptist church I could find and it just so happened I already loved the youth minister and his wife. I met them the same summer I met Mr. Wrong’s pastor and I knew that if the church was full of people like them then it had to be a great place. Even though I was sure it would be a great fit, I put Mr. Conservative toward the bottom of my list just because I was hoping for something different and exciting this time around. But the dating game was exhausting and it was time to get serious about my life. It was time to settle down. So where else do you run to then to what you know to be safe.

Plus, it was Valentine’s Day! How romantic to start a new relationship on the holiday that celebrates love. Well, it was romantic until a girl in Sunday School honestly prayed that Jesus would be our ultimate Valentine. Yeah, it really happened.

I made it through Sunday School and headed to the worship service. As soon as I got upstairs I realized jeans were a bad choice. I was so underdressed. The guys at the door had on full suits. I immediately started having flashbacks to elementary school and wearing over the top dresses every Sunday. It was torture. Wow, this place had a choir, organ, and everything. Oh my gosh. This place wasn’t just conservative; it was probably the most conservative church I had ever been in.

The sermon didn’t disappoint either. The pastor got up there in his full suit and started preaching about the gravity of sin and then gave countless examples from the Old Testament about God killing people on the spot because of their sin. Hopefully he was saving the miracle of grace for the next week. The whole time I kept wondering if he was going to drop the word damnation. It just felt fitting. After being scared into submission, Valentine’s Day with Mr. Conservative ended with the entire congregation holding hands and singing a hymn together before the official dismissal. Wow, we just took conservative to a whole new level.

After my date with Mr. Conservative I was out of ideas. I had no clue where to turn. This was the one guy I thought I could always count on. What happens when even he doesn’t work out? At least in real life eternal singleness is an option. We aren’t so lucky in the church dating world, although my Dad did suggest just listening to pod casts every week. Thanks Dad.

Was there really not an in-between option in the whole Christian Mecca? Can I get a little Chris Tomlin mixed with an old hymn and then a little Old Testament Truth mixed with the hope of the gospel? Is that really so hard to find? Apparently it is. But Mr. Conservative taught me a valuable life lesson; there is no such thing as a sure thing.