new to you friday–men, man up

A few weeks ago, a guy I’m friends with said two things that made me smile.

The first—“I thought about dating you, but decided it wouldn’t work because I’ve been reading your blog and you’re too Christian”—because that deserves a trophy for Back-handed Compliment Of The Year.

And the second—“You need a strong guy, and there aren’t many strong Christian guys”—because it made me think of this post.




Let’s make up a statistic and see if we can get it to go viral. How about, “If you are a single Christian woman over 30, you are 64% more likely to get hit by a bus than to get married.”

Look both ways, ladies.

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At dinner with some friends this weekend, one of them described the guy she’d just started dating. He was raised in a Christian home but no longer attends church or “practices” any faith. My friend likes him and plans to see him again but she’s also approaching it casually; she realizes his lack of faith is a major issue.

Whether or not she should date a non-Christian at all is a whole other discussion. In his book How to Get a Date Worth Keeping, Henry Cloud asserts that dating unbelievers is fine if you approach it as a way to make new friends, have fun, and grow as a person. As someone who dated and subsequently did the love and loss routine with an atheist, I would argue the opposite point of view.

But wherever you land on that, the point is she’s dating this guy (let’s call him Jack) because even though she knows dozens of Christian men her age at our church, not one has ever asked her out. And before you ask—yes, she is smart, attractive, outgoing, and generally “together.” So are my other single friends, many of whom struggle with the same situation. Why the dating drought when it comes to Christian men?


I obviously can’t speak for the men, but based on the statistics I’ve read it doesn’t seem they lack interest in marriage and family. The majority of single men—believers and otherwise—say they hope to marry and raise children.

Yet many Christian guys don’t date—they lead Bible studies and singles events, they pray for a wife, they attend group activities for years on end, but they rarely exert a little energy or spend a little money to know any woman individually.

Nothing’s wrong with groups, but Jack didn’t wait for verification from five buddies as to whether my friend might be interested in him. He initiated conversation with her, expressed his interest, and took a risk.


God created men to be initiators, so this kind of assertiveness gets our attention. My friends and I are strong women, but we refuse to usurp that role and act as the pursuer. If our Christian brothers won’t, either, what’s the new strategy? My friend summed it up well as we finished our coffee. “I don’t know what will happen with Jack, but it’s frustrating to have few alternatives. I guess we’re just supposed to be ‘waiting on the Lord.’ Okay. We’re waiting……”

I’m really not trying to be down on men here. I know it’s hard to take those kinds of risks, and I know women can be confusing and contradictory. But I do believe that, despite the difficulties, God created men to step up and take action in every area of their lives—which includes “finding a wife” (Proverbs 18:22).


Guys, we don’t expect you to quote poetry or be able to benchpress your car. We just wish you’d spend a little less time reading Wild at Heart and a little more time living it.

Last weekend I attended a beautiful wedding. The night before, at the rehearsal dinner, I asked the bride how she met her groom and how long they dated before deciding to marry. She replied the whole thing had been rather quick; she knew she wanted to marry him after several weeks, and they got engaged within six months.

I am cautious and careful in most areas of life (other than cross-country moves) so I find this fascinating. My tendency is to double and triple-check everything, including my feelings, and to overanalyze situations until I’m exhausted. I would love to just “know” that someone is “the one” but I don’t experience total certainty in any other important decisions (college major, choice of career, location of home) so I don’t expect to in my dating relationships, either.

You married folks—is that okay?  Did you have a total assurance and sense of peace when you met your spouse, and does the lack of that mean the relationship is doomed for divorce court? You single folks, do you expect to feel 100% sure about someone, and is that a requirement for you to commit to a marriage?

This whole job search thing is a lot like dating.

First, you get dumped or laid off, sometimes for reasons that have little to do with you. (“It’s not you, it’s me. I want to date/hire other people. You’re great, but….”)

You work through a grief process that includes anger and sadness. You wonder, “What could I have done differently? Why didn’t this one work out?”

Then there’s the whole process of finding the next guy/next job. It starts casually—you announce your new single/unemployed status to friends and mention that you’re open to ideas. A few well-meaning friends try to set you up with a variety of men or jobs that are completely at odds with what you’re looking for, but you have to give them props for trying. Others “know somebody” and promise to make the connection for you, but few follow through. You can’t really blame them—it’s not their problem, and they have a spouse and a job.

This crowd has differing theological positions on the whole thing, too, and they strongly encourage you to adopt their way of thinking. Some believe God has picked out the right man/right job and will bring it “in his time.” Others believe there can be lots of guys/jobs that could be good for you and it’s your responsibility to get out there and find them. You find yourself falling somewhere in the middle and screening your calls.

If nothing comes from this phase, you become more proactive, scouring online personals/classifieds for just the right fit, and optimistically emailing a few guys/employers you never hear back from.

If you do manage to connect with an opportunity that sounds promising, a new kind of insanity takes hold. Why hasn’t he called? Did I say the right thing? He could at least email. I should have worn something different. What did that statement mean?

Right now—in both areas of life—I’ve got one I wish would call and take things to the next step, one which seemed pretty good initially but is probably not right for me, and one that seems perfect, probably because I haven’t gotten close enough to see the flaws.

I’ve never been great at dating, and I’m not real good at finding a new job, either.

At dinner with some friends this weekend, one of them described the guy she’d just started dating. He was raised in a Christian home but no longer attends church or “practices” any faith. My friend likes him and plans to see him again but she’s also approaching it casually; she realizes his lack of faith is a major issue.

Whether or not she should date a non-Christian at all is a whole other discussion. In his book How to Find a Date Worth Keeping, Henry Cloud asserts that dating unbelievers is fine if you approach it as a way to make new friends, have fun, and grow as a person. As someone who dated and subsequently did the love and loss routine with an atheist, I would argue the opposite point of view.

But wherever you land on that, the point is she’s dating this guy (let’s call him Jack) because even though she knows dozens of Christian men her age at our church, not one has ever asked her out. And before you ask—yes, she is smart, attractive, outgoing, and generally “together.” So are my other single friends, many of whom struggle with the same situation. Why the dating drought when it comes to Christian men?

I obviously can’t speak for the men, but based on the statistics I’ve read it doesn’t seem they lack interest in marriage and family. The majority of single men—believers and otherwise—say they hope to marry and raise children.

Yet many Christian guys don’t date—they lead Bible studies and singles events, they pray for a wife, they attend group activities for years on end, but they rarely exert a little energy or spend a little money to know any woman individually.

Nothing’s wrong with groups, but Jack didn’t wait for verification from five buddies as to whether my friend might be interested in him. He initiated conversation with her, expressed his interest, and took a risk.

God created men to be initiators, so this kind of assertiveness gets our attention. My friends and I are strong women, but we refuse to usurp that role and act as the pursuer. If our Christian brothers won’t, either, what’s the new strategy? My friend summed it up well as we finished our coffee. “I don’t know what will happen with Jack, but it’s frustrating to have few alternatives. I guess we’re just supposed to be ‘waiting on the Lord.’ Okay. We’re waiting……”

I’m really not trying to be down on men here. I know it’s hard to take those kinds of risks, and I know women can be confusing and contradictory. But I do believe that, despite the difficulties, God created men to step up and take action in every area of their lives—which includes “finding a wife” (Proverbs 18:22).

Guys, we don’t expect you to quote poetry or be able to benchpress your car. We just wish you’d spend a little less time reading Wild at Heart and a little more time living it.

Wife of a preacher man

As I get older, more and more people volunteer their services (usually unasked) to find me a suitable husband. In fact, just the other day one of my co-workers caught me between meetings and said, “I found your husband—he’s my doctor! And I have another appointment with him this afternoon, so I’ll interview him some more.”

Actually, it’s not just a recent phenomenon; almost since I graduated from college “The Committee to Find Jen a Mate” (TCFJAM for short) has been active and developing new branches as far away as New York City, Cincinnati, and even London. They are a fun group—we’re all getting t-shirts soon.

When a zealous Committee member decides they have discovered The One, they must first submit to a list of questions: How old is he? Is he a Christian? Is he a minister? If the answer to the first question is over 35 (or, “Ummm….”), the answer to the second is no, or the answer to the third is yes, I used to say no thanks.

My experience growing up in the church and watching my parents lead and serve was an extremely positive one. (I now realize how careful they were to speak positively of the church and its leaders so that I would grow up feeling this way.) But even the happiest “PK” has experienced church dysfunction and politics, change at the pace of icicles melting, and just plain mean people. My own portfolio of horror stories has expanded as I’ve served churches and church leaders in my professional life for the past eight years, and I now have very little desire to work on a church staff.

So it seemed logical to veto any possibility of marrying into the position—after all, no one works for the church like the pastor’s family.

But in the last few years, I stopped asking that third question—or at least basing my decision on it. (There are usually plenty of other reasons to reject TCFJAM’s suggestions.) Like Sue Wilson writes in a recent Christian Standard, a calling to ministry can take many forms. Even as I’ve seen “the dark side” of church, I’ve also met many women who love their role as partner and supporter in ministry, and who wouldn’t trade it for anything.

I spent last weekend with some good friends who have served in ministry all six years of their young married life. They talk candidly about the frustrations, the strain it has at times placed on their marriage, and the sacrifices they’ve made. But they also speak of the joy of serving, and much of our conversation throughout the weekend focused on their dreams for the future.

It doesn’t seem like an easy gig, but it no longer seems like such a bad one. Then again, neither does marrying a doctor.