One day I'll stop writing posts about relationships, dating, and my lack thereof, but I was talking with "The Deb" about it--because she's my Wise Married Woman friend--and I'm getting kind of wistful. Back when doing ministry and being married wasn't a possible contradiction, I had a class with a pretty friend. Bible Content--Old Testament. She sat next to me. Even though she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen, I felt all silly trying to talk to her. [Don't you mean 'because'?--ed.] Maybe. Anyway, she was going to go away to do work in ministry, but it didn't work, so she came back. By then, I was thinking through "the Catholic thing" and I didn't want to jump into anything.
But I swear, that was the craziest chemistry ever. We never talked about it. I still have no idea why she isn't married. As soon as I post this to Facebook...well, I shouldn't. Tim, you certainly know who this is.
Why do I think like this? Why do I think I missed God's boat all the time? [Because you miss the 'Not Sinning' Ferry like 40 times a day.--ed.] True. I can't date a Protestant girl, anyway. It's not fair to either person. But if I had only a short time left, I'd just tell her how much I felt for her.
I feel the separation between Christians most acutely in this area of life; I am the sort of person who just loves entirely, without regard to practicality or challenges.
But I am also aware, in my pitiful way, of the greatness of the sacraments of the Church, and of communion with the bishop, and the pope. I could never forsake this, and honestly, as amorous as I am known to be, it could never be strong enough to put this at risk in any way.
I was at Mass tonight, and the Gospel reading almost made me cry. I love Jesus. I love being his friend, even though I'm a horrible friend. But even as I reflected on God's love for me, my desire for marriage came to my mind. I have no idea how it will work; I know my challenges will make it very hard. But I don't care. I gotta be me.
It's not about physical things. I can say that with a clear conscience. Once you know the fruitlessness of sexual sin on a level deeper than what you ought not to do, it never again holds serious sway. That isn't to say there is no risk of falling. But Satan's lies here only work if they are servicable imitations of true love. I've tried every cheap shortcut, short of intercourse itself, and I never got CLOSE to quelling that impetus in my heart. Not even close.
I almost laugh at the idea of pornography now. Because I can see beauty--perfect lines and shapes, and I can imagine the human body in all its functions--but I keep coming back to this one thing, whenever temptation is near: Unless she is mine and I am hers, nothing I do will be enough. I don't mean to make it sound easy. It isn't. But I want to give all of myself; I want my scars, and my twitches, and my acne, and my need for affirmation, and my suffering--all of it--in the open. It'll be hers, and no one else's. And everything she fears and hates about herself will be mine, too. Mine. But we'll give it anyway. Jesus gave us everything, and even though our lives are not worthy of Him, he takes them, and makes with them a beautiful gift to the Father. He doesn't refuse us.
Take it back, I have to share this. I doubt I have ever written anything that means this much. I hope it's not too shocking or embarrassing.
But I swear, that was the craziest chemistry ever. We never talked about it. I still have no idea why she isn't married. As soon as I post this to Facebook...well, I shouldn't. Tim, you certainly know who this is.
Why do I think like this? Why do I think I missed God's boat all the time? [Because you miss the 'Not Sinning' Ferry like 40 times a day.--ed.] True. I can't date a Protestant girl, anyway. It's not fair to either person. But if I had only a short time left, I'd just tell her how much I felt for her.
I feel the separation between Christians most acutely in this area of life; I am the sort of person who just loves entirely, without regard to practicality or challenges.
But I am also aware, in my pitiful way, of the greatness of the sacraments of the Church, and of communion with the bishop, and the pope. I could never forsake this, and honestly, as amorous as I am known to be, it could never be strong enough to put this at risk in any way.
I was at Mass tonight, and the Gospel reading almost made me cry. I love Jesus. I love being his friend, even though I'm a horrible friend. But even as I reflected on God's love for me, my desire for marriage came to my mind. I have no idea how it will work; I know my challenges will make it very hard. But I don't care. I gotta be me.
It's not about physical things. I can say that with a clear conscience. Once you know the fruitlessness of sexual sin on a level deeper than what you ought not to do, it never again holds serious sway. That isn't to say there is no risk of falling. But Satan's lies here only work if they are servicable imitations of true love. I've tried every cheap shortcut, short of intercourse itself, and I never got CLOSE to quelling that impetus in my heart. Not even close.
I almost laugh at the idea of pornography now. Because I can see beauty--perfect lines and shapes, and I can imagine the human body in all its functions--but I keep coming back to this one thing, whenever temptation is near: Unless she is mine and I am hers, nothing I do will be enough. I don't mean to make it sound easy. It isn't. But I want to give all of myself; I want my scars, and my twitches, and my acne, and my need for affirmation, and my suffering--all of it--in the open. It'll be hers, and no one else's. And everything she fears and hates about herself will be mine, too. Mine. But we'll give it anyway. Jesus gave us everything, and even though our lives are not worthy of Him, he takes them, and makes with them a beautiful gift to the Father. He doesn't refuse us.
Take it back, I have to share this. I doubt I have ever written anything that means this much. I hope it's not too shocking or embarrassing.
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