I joined eHarmony (hereafter referred to as “eH”) nearly 2 months ago after much hemming and hawing. Despite knowing at least two married couples who met via eH, the concept scared me. I was supposed to place my photo on the web and face rejection by men from all over the country? I think not.
Eventually I took the leap with some help from a friend, and two hours or so of personality tests later, my first six matches popped up. And thus began those first two weeks of constant agitation. My stomach lurched and flipped each time I logged on, wondering who might have initiated communication, who might have closed our match, and generally just feeling pressured to determine the potential of these men based on a profile. The matches came pouring in -which was somewhat of a relief...at least I was matchable!- but I felt pressured to make decisions. I didn’t want to close any matches lest I unknowingly close out my Mr. Right.
And then it happened. A Canadian lad initiated communication, and he had all of the humor and charm and wit I could hope for, love for his Savior and his family, similar dreams, and… and well, I let down my guard. His messages left me grinning from ear to ear, giddy like a school girl. I floated down the hallways at work, starting to imagine future visits and life events together.
It’s stupid really. I *know* better than to do that, but the idea that we were identified as “extremely compatible” by the experts at eH, and then had a seemingly great chemistry… It was all too easy to think “Yes! No wonder I haven’t met anyone in Oregon! My guy is in Canada, so it’s not like we were going to bump into each other at the grocery store! All I needed to do was join eH and now my life will begin…”
After some regular exchanges, Canada Boy disappeared into radio silence. I awaited the next message while dismissing other matches with thoughts like, “He doesn’t make me laugh the way Canada Boy does… His writing isn’t witty… He doesn’t grab my attention…” etc. After a three week silence, I logged on one evening to see that Canada Boy had closed our match with the stated reason “I’m just not ready for the next step.”
I fell to pieces. What the hell was he doing on eH if he wasn’t ready to pursue a relationship? Or maybe he was interested until I posted my pictures, and “just not ready” was a lame excuse instead of saying “I’m not attracted to you.” This was the exact reason I didn’t want to join in the first place… to be anonymously rejected seems worse somehow. Why can’t I just meet someone at work or church, have him find me attractive and intriguing, and ask me out?
I was heartbroken, frustrated by the lack of closure, and I walked through the next week or two like a zombie, making small talk and changing the subject or flat ignoring any inquiries of “How are you?” lest I start weeping. I didn’t want to be lectured about not letting my heart get ahead of reality. I already knew that I contributed to my own heartache without being told. This was supposed to be like trying on shoes. This was “practice dating” and I wasn’t supposed to have expectations.
I’m back at it again, reviewing profiles and answering inquiries, but with a sense of detachment. I don’t know if it’s a healthy sense of detachment, or a self-defense mechanism. I have over 100 matches sitting in my box, most of whom I haven’t had any reaction to, either positive or negative. I read each profile, shrug, and move on to the next one. There isn’t anything unsavory enough to make me close the match (with the exception of a few extreme Type A personalities, one self-professed porn addict, and a couple of apparent man whores), but nothing that captures my attention enough to want to pursue communication.
Truly, I don’t know where this eH adventure will lead me. Maybe I’ll be one of those marriage success stories, or maybe my future husband will show up next to me in line at a Starbucks here in Oregon. I just pray that it is soon.
Jesus talked to me last year about guarding my heart, leaving it as intact and unscarred as possible for Him and for my future husband. I reflected after the Canada Boy incident about why I was so willing to allow my heart and mind to plunge headfirst into infatuation, knowing all too well the perilous path I was embarking upon. I concluded that, frankly, it feels good to use that part of my heart which feels like it is wasting away, unused and unwanted. I understand that marriage is not a cure for loneliness, nor is it easy, nor is it the missing ingredient that will complete my happiness. At the same time, I believe I was created with a deep desire to be a wife, and that desire comes from God. I am prepared to work hard at my marriage, and to choose to love my husband every day (even when we inevitably annoy the crap out of each other). Now it’s just a matter of the Lord’s timing. So, Jesus, whenever you’re ready, I’m here...
Monday, December 18, 2006
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
The Sound of Silence (My apologies to Simon & Garfunkel...)
The Oregon Coast and Willamette Valley experienced a reasonably large windstorm on Sunday night --large enough to knock down a plethora of trees and leave thousands of folks in the dark, either for minutes or hours at a time. It was uncanny... The weather forecasters predicted 10pm as the starting time for the storm, and sure enough, at 9:54pm... BUZZ. ZAP. CLUNK... The power went off in my home and silence descended like a curtain. What?! No TV?! I am appropriately ashamed to admit that I was watching a reality show (which shall go nameless here) and was mildly vexed that I was going to miss the results!
Alone with my feline companions, I promptly lit a few candles and snatched up my cell phone to reach out and connect. I texted a friend..."Are you without power, too?" Then I called my dearest Mommers to relate what I was experiencing at that very moment, and while it wasn't exactly press-stopping news that I was in the dark, she patiently listened to my plans for just how I was going to manage to clean up the painting project that I had been in the midst of, and how I would need to use the alarm on the cell phone for the morning since I couldn't set the clock by my bed. Eventually she tired of my survival checklist mentality and excused herself with the advice that I should simply go to bed since I couldn't do anything useful anyway.
I fumbled my way thru washing my face, brushing my teeth, etc. A sidenote on the bedtime toilette routine: Why is it that when you're washing your face by candlelight, *that* is the exact moment that the stupid urban legand about looking in the mirror in the dark and saying "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary" comes to mind?! You couldn't have paid me enough at that moment to try it. Anyhow, I digress....
It felt truly strange to be in total quiet, no comforting white noise of the cats' water fountain or the aquarium filter or the dryer tumbling my clothes. No sight but the flicker of a dozen candles in my living room, reflecting from the 3 cats' wide, curious eyes. A few faint flickers behind curtains in windows across the way reminded me that others were at home, sitting in the same silence, whether they found it to be refreshing or oppressive. After a brief attempt at reading by candlelight, I gave up the fight and went to sleep.
Power returned during the night, and as I pondered the experience on Monday morning while grooming myself for work, I kept thinking back to a point Pastor Bill made in his Sunday morning sermon. We often chip away at our exterior lives, trying to force ourselves to be more like God. We keep track of how often we pray or read the Bible. We engage in acts of mercy or compassion, consciously thinking that this is "what Jesus would do." Not to devalue those things, but we can try to squeeze endless godly activities into our lives, and form words that sound like a gentle rain of wisdom straight from the Bible, but we can never carve or mold ourselves into a righteous, godly being. That change works from the inside out. You have allowed Jesus into your heart, and from there he speaks directly to you of his love and will for you, and rebukes you out of fatherly goodness when necessary. The process is more like an injection mold... We start out as this empty casing in the image of God, and then as He works his way into the very corners of our existence, the mold is filled from the inside, gradually expanding until it is complete. After our earthly existence ends and the shell of our bodies is peeled away from our soul, out pops this newly completed spiritual being, in the image of our Heavenly Father.
Here I was, sitting in the dark, bemoaning that I couldn't do anything "useful" and initially uncomfortable with the silence. How much of my life is like that? Do I volunteer to sing with the worship team because I love to praise the Lord, or because it's one of those ministry activities that should in theory benefit my spiritual growth? Do I volunteer with the kids program because I treasure the youngest members of God's Kingdom, or because it's an opportunity to show my spiritual maturity & leadership, making me feel like a better Christian? Am I just trying to chip away from the outside? And maybe most importantly, is the silence uncomfortable because it throws into sharp relief what's in my heart and mind and forces me to work with God from the inside out instead of saying, "See? Look what I did for you this week? Aren't I doing well?"
Maybe power outages are less of an inconvenience, and more of an opportunity to look into deep places untouched by the light we try to shine for the world.
Alone with my feline companions, I promptly lit a few candles and snatched up my cell phone to reach out and connect. I texted a friend..."Are you without power, too?" Then I called my dearest Mommers to relate what I was experiencing at that very moment, and while it wasn't exactly press-stopping news that I was in the dark, she patiently listened to my plans for just how I was going to manage to clean up the painting project that I had been in the midst of, and how I would need to use the alarm on the cell phone for the morning since I couldn't set the clock by my bed. Eventually she tired of my survival checklist mentality and excused herself with the advice that I should simply go to bed since I couldn't do anything useful anyway.
I fumbled my way thru washing my face, brushing my teeth, etc. A sidenote on the bedtime toilette routine: Why is it that when you're washing your face by candlelight, *that* is the exact moment that the stupid urban legand about looking in the mirror in the dark and saying "Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary" comes to mind?! You couldn't have paid me enough at that moment to try it. Anyhow, I digress....
It felt truly strange to be in total quiet, no comforting white noise of the cats' water fountain or the aquarium filter or the dryer tumbling my clothes. No sight but the flicker of a dozen candles in my living room, reflecting from the 3 cats' wide, curious eyes. A few faint flickers behind curtains in windows across the way reminded me that others were at home, sitting in the same silence, whether they found it to be refreshing or oppressive. After a brief attempt at reading by candlelight, I gave up the fight and went to sleep.
Power returned during the night, and as I pondered the experience on Monday morning while grooming myself for work, I kept thinking back to a point Pastor Bill made in his Sunday morning sermon. We often chip away at our exterior lives, trying to force ourselves to be more like God. We keep track of how often we pray or read the Bible. We engage in acts of mercy or compassion, consciously thinking that this is "what Jesus would do." Not to devalue those things, but we can try to squeeze endless godly activities into our lives, and form words that sound like a gentle rain of wisdom straight from the Bible, but we can never carve or mold ourselves into a righteous, godly being. That change works from the inside out. You have allowed Jesus into your heart, and from there he speaks directly to you of his love and will for you, and rebukes you out of fatherly goodness when necessary. The process is more like an injection mold... We start out as this empty casing in the image of God, and then as He works his way into the very corners of our existence, the mold is filled from the inside, gradually expanding until it is complete. After our earthly existence ends and the shell of our bodies is peeled away from our soul, out pops this newly completed spiritual being, in the image of our Heavenly Father.
Here I was, sitting in the dark, bemoaning that I couldn't do anything "useful" and initially uncomfortable with the silence. How much of my life is like that? Do I volunteer to sing with the worship team because I love to praise the Lord, or because it's one of those ministry activities that should in theory benefit my spiritual growth? Do I volunteer with the kids program because I treasure the youngest members of God's Kingdom, or because it's an opportunity to show my spiritual maturity & leadership, making me feel like a better Christian? Am I just trying to chip away from the outside? And maybe most importantly, is the silence uncomfortable because it throws into sharp relief what's in my heart and mind and forces me to work with God from the inside out instead of saying, "See? Look what I did for you this week? Aren't I doing well?"
Maybe power outages are less of an inconvenience, and more of an opportunity to look into deep places untouched by the light we try to shine for the world.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Celebrity Lookalike
Dammit. I caved to peer pressure and tried the "Celebrity Lookalike" program. I was utterly (although not unpleasantly) shocked that Courtney Cox is my highest rated match (Puhleeease! Does this mean I get to have her teeny-tiny bodytype as well?!). Then there's the eensy wee problem that all of the rest of my matches are GUYS!!!! I think it cut me off at at 9 celebs, so the freakish resemblance to James Spader will not be evident unless you use your imagination. Just picture him wearing almost identical glasses with an almost identical backdrop and an almost identical smile... Kinda creepy really. (Or for Beth and Elise, that would be "Creeepay!")
Elton John?! Phillip Seymour Hoffman?! WTF?!?!
This may take some time and plenty of facial masks, pore cleansings, and alcohol to get over. I blame Devin.
Elton John?! Phillip Seymour Hoffman?! WTF?!?!
This may take some time and plenty of facial masks, pore cleansings, and alcohol to get over. I blame Devin.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Parental Notification
Election Day is fast approaching and Oregon once again faces a ballot measure that will set precedence regarding the sanctity of family and the rights of parents to be involved in the lives of their children. The measure is designed to require parental notification for minors seeking abortion, 48 hours before the procedure. It does not require parental approval or permission, just notification. The measure includes a loophole for cases of incest or minors who might face danger at home if the parents were notified. The loophole requires a judge to waive the notification requirement based on a meeting or phone call with the minor in question.
Silly me, I thought this would be a fairly cut and dried issue. Minors are differentiated from adults because they're different, right? We set age requirements for driving a motor vehicle and for exercising the right to vote. Why? Because the maturity required for certain activities takes time to develop. Granted not everyone is a safe driver at 35 much less 16, and some adults never make their voice heard in the political process, but age increases the potential for wisdom and more informed choices.
For the life of me, I can't imagine that ANY 14, 15, or 16 year old who finds herself with an unwanted pregnancy is mature enough to set aside fear and circumstance to make a decision that will affect not only the remainder of her life but also determine the life or death of a newly formed human being. Hell, I don't think teenagers are emotionally mature enough to have sex no matter what their bodies may tell them.
Next time you walk thru a shopping mall, take note of the ear piercing station at the teeny-bopper jewelry store. Parental permission is required for minors to pierce their ears. Why is this even a question that a teen should be able to undergo a medical procedure to terminate a pregnancy without a parent being involved? Why is it that about half of the folks polled in Oregon are planning to vote against this common sense measure?
How has our society gotten to this place? Is this about "choice" and "reproductive rights"? In which case, do we hold that notion so precious that we think it extends to not only women, but young girls as well? Is this issue rooted in that legendary fierce American independence, that none of us can be owned or controlled? Bottom line: Parents are responsible for the welfare of their minor children.
A majority of Oregonians stepped up two years ago and said, "Marriage is between one man and one woman. We believe that definition is crucial to maintaining the institution of family." Certain lawmakers promptly said, "You know, you're wrong. We're being tolerant and accepting of other lifestyles, and you are clearly either ignorant or just plain bigoted. Since we know better, we're going to go ahead and establish 'civil unions' in order to make Oregon a progressive and accepting sort of place."
IF this parental notification measure passes, I expect the same type of reaction from Planned Parenthood and the other "feminist" powers that be. How can we consider taking away the rights of these pregnant teens? How could a parent possibly know better than a kid when it comes to her body? How, you ask? Because we love them. Because we respect them enough to say, "You aren't ready to make a decision like this without the support of the people who love you best and will stay with you either way."
Silly me, I thought this would be a fairly cut and dried issue. Minors are differentiated from adults because they're different, right? We set age requirements for driving a motor vehicle and for exercising the right to vote. Why? Because the maturity required for certain activities takes time to develop. Granted not everyone is a safe driver at 35 much less 16, and some adults never make their voice heard in the political process, but age increases the potential for wisdom and more informed choices.
For the life of me, I can't imagine that ANY 14, 15, or 16 year old who finds herself with an unwanted pregnancy is mature enough to set aside fear and circumstance to make a decision that will affect not only the remainder of her life but also determine the life or death of a newly formed human being. Hell, I don't think teenagers are emotionally mature enough to have sex no matter what their bodies may tell them.
Next time you walk thru a shopping mall, take note of the ear piercing station at the teeny-bopper jewelry store. Parental permission is required for minors to pierce their ears. Why is this even a question that a teen should be able to undergo a medical procedure to terminate a pregnancy without a parent being involved? Why is it that about half of the folks polled in Oregon are planning to vote against this common sense measure?
How has our society gotten to this place? Is this about "choice" and "reproductive rights"? In which case, do we hold that notion so precious that we think it extends to not only women, but young girls as well? Is this issue rooted in that legendary fierce American independence, that none of us can be owned or controlled? Bottom line: Parents are responsible for the welfare of their minor children.
A majority of Oregonians stepped up two years ago and said, "Marriage is between one man and one woman. We believe that definition is crucial to maintaining the institution of family." Certain lawmakers promptly said, "You know, you're wrong. We're being tolerant and accepting of other lifestyles, and you are clearly either ignorant or just plain bigoted. Since we know better, we're going to go ahead and establish 'civil unions' in order to make Oregon a progressive and accepting sort of place."
IF this parental notification measure passes, I expect the same type of reaction from Planned Parenthood and the other "feminist" powers that be. How can we consider taking away the rights of these pregnant teens? How could a parent possibly know better than a kid when it comes to her body? How, you ask? Because we love them. Because we respect them enough to say, "You aren't ready to make a decision like this without the support of the people who love you best and will stay with you either way."
Friday, October 20, 2006
Waxing Sentimental
Not quite sure why, but lately I've been waxing sentimental ...and no, I don't mean I've been getting misty-eyed over past hair removal attempts.
Perhaps it's that I'm nearly 30 and still single, which is significantly different than the timeline for my life that I had planned. More on my timing vs. God's timing later....
Anyhow, one tall, strapping, red-headed lad keeps coming to mind. He and I were close while I was nearing the end of my college career and he was just starting. Then seemingly out of the blue he ended not only any potential for the relationship to turn romantic, but ended the friendship altogether. I was devastated to say the least, floundering and unsure of my path as graduation approached, and feeling like I would be entering the unknown without my best friend by my side.
The following poem was one I wrote that year in the midst of my heartache. I have no idea where he is now. I've only seen him once in the last 7 years, in passing at a county fair where he was walking hand in hand with another young woman and wouldn't make eye contact although I was sure he saw me. Wherever he is, I hope that he is finding his way in this world and that he is truly happy.
You granted me an empty hello
As you passed me by
Doled it out as if it were a gift
Eagerly I snatched it up
This morsel, this crumb
Your name rose to my lips
Once sweet and gratifying to utter
Now unsavory
I echoed your greeting
But those two words, however small
Choked me
Then escaping, fell on your stone ears
Casual indifference framed your features
Betraying not the guilt I prayed I'd see
Not a hint of a smile played
On those lips that mingled with mine
Mercilessly capturing my affection
One clear March night
Back when you were real
And so today I continued
Down the path you cut for me
A hollow woman
Empty as your hello
Perhaps it's that I'm nearly 30 and still single, which is significantly different than the timeline for my life that I had planned. More on my timing vs. God's timing later....
Anyhow, one tall, strapping, red-headed lad keeps coming to mind. He and I were close while I was nearing the end of my college career and he was just starting. Then seemingly out of the blue he ended not only any potential for the relationship to turn romantic, but ended the friendship altogether. I was devastated to say the least, floundering and unsure of my path as graduation approached, and feeling like I would be entering the unknown without my best friend by my side.
The following poem was one I wrote that year in the midst of my heartache. I have no idea where he is now. I've only seen him once in the last 7 years, in passing at a county fair where he was walking hand in hand with another young woman and wouldn't make eye contact although I was sure he saw me. Wherever he is, I hope that he is finding his way in this world and that he is truly happy.
You granted me an empty hello
As you passed me by
Doled it out as if it were a gift
Eagerly I snatched it up
This morsel, this crumb
Your name rose to my lips
Once sweet and gratifying to utter
Now unsavory
I echoed your greeting
But those two words, however small
Choked me
Then escaping, fell on your stone ears
Casual indifference framed your features
Betraying not the guilt I prayed I'd see
Not a hint of a smile played
On those lips that mingled with mine
Mercilessly capturing my affection
One clear March night
Back when you were real
And so today I continued
Down the path you cut for me
A hollow woman
Empty as your hello
Friday, October 13, 2006
Get out of my brain!
My dear friend Bethy McBethles and I have that tendency, as do many folks who spend much time in close company, to find that we are thinking the same thing at the same moment, and even have the words pop out simultaneously, often with the very same intonations. Silly and goofy, yes. Occasionally weird, yes. But mostly just plain old good for a laugh! One of my favorite of her exclamations on these occasions is, "Get out of my brain! You're leaving squishy footprints!"
Somehow that seemed quite appropriate for a blog in which I'm essentially letting you into my brain. So please, look around. Explore. Just don't wear like soccer cleats or track spikes, or stillettos 'cuz... ouch! :o)
Somehow that seemed quite appropriate for a blog in which I'm essentially letting you into my brain. So please, look around. Explore. Just don't wear like soccer cleats or track spikes, or stillettos 'cuz... ouch! :o)
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