new to you friday–popping (a) question

I love to hear how couples met.

It’s one of my very favorite questions, both to break the ice with acquaintances or to spark reminiscing among old friends. Although love is ancient and unchanging, modern romance is very specific: he asked me out to this dance, she wrote me this letter, this friend introduced us at this party. I enjoy watching people share the details of the one love story in which they play the starring role.




These stories are, of course, as different as the people involved. There’s the woman convinced her bachelor beau was a player who would hurt her–until he slowly wore her down with his kindness and character. There’s the guy who asked his future wife to all the big college events and nothing in between, until his roommate told him to get serious or he would ask her out, too. There’s the youth pastor who developed feelings for a barely-in-college former youth group member and honorably talked to her parents about getting to know her. (They’ve been married ten years, have three young kids, and this winter alone have shared the flu among their family of five approximately 43 times.)

I wrote this blog after another sweet friend shared her story and, as many folks do, included phrases about “just knowing it was right.” Three years later I’ve decided some of this certainty is evidence of a good relationship, but some is a function of personality. I hid under cribs in the church nursery and I triple-check my alarm clock each night. I’ll probably never be someone who “just knows”—and that’s okay.


But I’d love to hear your thoughts, and I’d really love to hear your story. Pretend the coffee is hot, the evening is young, and I just asked how you met (or charmed, or chased) your Valentine. Tell us in the comments!

—————————————————————————-

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?

new to you friday–first, do no eharmony

I continue to meet couples who discovered each other via eHarmony and other online dating sites………and I continue to be skeptical based on my own experience. Bottom line: if I’m compatible with some of these people in 29 different ways, I have no business dating—I need to go work on myself.

Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone……….

————————————————————————-

Neil Clark Warren must be laughing all the way to the bank. Millions of people have subscribed (at $20-$50 a month) to his online dating service, eHarmony, since its launch in 2000. In 2006, the site announced over 16,000 eHarmony couples had already married, and hundreds more hopefuls join the site each day. Users are attracted to the Christian branding (Warren initially marketed the site through Focus on the Family) and patented “personality profile” which allegedly matches you to singles with whom you share sociability, energy levels, intellect, and other characteristics.

This weekend I’m in Colorado for the wedding of one of my closest friends, who met her soon-to-be-husband online, and in the past couple of weeks I’ve reconnected with several other friends who met their spouses through online dating services. Online dating seems to have lost its stigma (although several of those friends still hesitate to tell others they met through a website), but I remain skeptical.

Time magazine recently named eHarmony one of its 5 worst websites; “Our main beef with this online dating site is its power to cause utter despair,” they wrote. I experienced more disbelief than despair; one match was most passionate about, and I quote, “Wielding the sword of truth against the powers and principalities of darkness” (yikes). Another claimed to routinely fall asleep in the shower (how is one question; why he chose to reveal that to a total stranger is another). I “talked” to a variety of others, including one I dated for several months before realizing we were actually spectacularly incompatible. Thanks, Neil Clark.

Perhaps despair IS more like it—this is who I’m most compatible with in “29 different dimensions”? What does that say about me??

Whether it’s Match.com, Yahoo Personals, or eHarmony, I’m glad my dear friends are finding love online. But I don’t plan on trying it again. Maybe it’s pride—I’d still rather tell my grandkids a meet cute story than a met online one—or maybe it’s just dating fatigue.


“I’m terrible at matching my clothes,” said one of my eHarmony matches. “This is kind of a last-ditch effort at finding someone,” said a second. “I really like to give high-fives,” shared yet another. Even The Committee seems successful compared to this.

I’ve got your valentine right here

After four years of dating (and being dumped by) a series of men from other parts of the country, I met a great guy right here in California—just four weeks before I leave.

God has quite a sense of humor.

Nothing’s going to come of it, of course, because in addition to being kind, successful, and easy on the eyes, he’s also not stupid. Why would he invest in me when I’m bound for the faraway land of fried meat and gun racks?

Even if I were staying, chances are we wouldn’t work out any more than my other relationships have. But it’s the principle of the thing—it feels like God’s getting in one last dig to punctuate several years of disappointments, and it seems rather cruel.

Does that sentence make you uncomfortable? Cruel isn’t an adjective we typically apply to God. The Bible says he’s loving, gracious, patient, merciful, compassionate. It says he won’t give us a stone if we ask for bread. But some days I seem to be knee-deep in stones, and I bet you do, too. How should we process that?

If God is so eager to be in relationship with us, why does he so often keep his distance? (Please no cliched comments about “If God seems far away, guess who moved.” Read Psalm 44.) God keeps our tears in a bottle and cares about the direction of our lives—so why does he seem to ignore so many prayers?

In Disappointment with God, Philip Yancey writes, “[This] does not come only in dramatic circumstances….I have found that petty disappointments tend to accumulate over time, undermining my faith with a lava flow of doubt. I start to wonder whether God cares about everyday details—about me. I am tempted to pray less often, having concluded in advance that it won’t matter. Or will it? My emotions and faith waver.”

I’ve long since passed the stage of questioning God’s sovereignty or his power to do good. Instead, I find myself grappling with his desire to do good. Although I’ve known him most of my life, I don’t yet understand what I can ask for, or which of those bread prayers will result in more stone answers.

One thing I do know: for six months I’ve smiled patiently while people yank Jeremiah 29:11 out of context and earnestly quote it to me. In honor of Valentine’s Day, I’m smacking the next person who does.