The Next Man in my Life

Since there is no denying the romantic appeal of such fairytale sentiments as “waiting for your prince,” “Knight in shinning armor,” and “living happily ever after,” I shall not dare pretend to ignore that searching for love, or perhaps the ideal of romance is something greatly sought after in people's life.

I remember in the bungling years of my early teens, I had a particular friend who never seemed to be without a beau. Being of a more awkward, taciturn nature I never seemed to be without the intense longing to have a beau…and it bristled the feathers of my proud, quiet little teenage spirit to be unfortunate as to never have one. I remember feeling irritated when my friend once told me, knowingly, in all her fifteen years of wisdom that I was lucky to not have a boyfriend. Because when you don’t have one, you want one. And when you have one, you don’t want one. I almost launched forward wishing her then to give her boyfriend to me and let me try out such nonsense advice, but I repressed the urge.

Nearly ten years later, I review a hall of men, whose portraits hang upon the walls of my mind and lend to me some sort of memory, good or ill. I can’t hardly say I regret my little episodes with these lost loves or disappointed men, they’ve each taught me something tremendous. Some young men have shown me qualities I’d love to keep in my life…others have shown me traits I hope never to see again.

But it is all exhausting! I find the heart is only capable of loving and letting go or loving and sending away so many times before it reaches the point of weariness. The last serious intention of my love life absolutely wore me out… and the current pursuer of my affections is quite nearly driving me to consider a dutiful life of celibacy. Never in my life have I actually wanted to be single…until now. I have absolutely no desire to give another man my heart, currently. It is too ridiculous to imagine something as rigid and fragile as my heart could be given away twice in one year. This silly, dating obsession I find today is just nonsense… people change up who they date like nail polish on the fingers. One week they are in love, the next they are in love with someone else… nonsense!

It would betray my sensibilities to be so shallow. I dare to be alone rather than surrender to artificial relationships for the sake of being liked. I think if you cannot find amusement and true pleasure in the company of yourself alone, then you will never reach true enjoyment in anyone else's…

I pray that God does not bring the next man in my life very soon…oh goodness I need respite from the complications of men.

And that I believe is the very essence of what makes a relationship truly ideal to me. If you might find a man whose company is comfortable and easy, if he is the pleasant, simple, loving sort of soul that does not vex and tire your spirit (as all these men in the past have done for me) then that shall be a man worth keeping! When I meet a new boy, they appear in my mind’s eye as a potential beau… but I have determined my heart shall not be won until I meet a man who appears to me as a potential friend. Natural, easy, and genuine…intelligent and competent…a happy soul who is also completely contented with his own company. Honestly, I believe that once you get to the point where you are willing to give up what you want most, only then will you be mature enough to find it. Because if not, you shall always be desperate and hungry, pursuing romantic ideals because you think you want them, or need them… when in all actuality, you don’t need them at all. You are blessed with them… 

I pray God lets me recover before the next man...and I pray even harder that the next man, might be the last man. For this whole business of love is simply exhausting!

If you cannot tell by the verbosity of my writing, I have been lately watching Pride and Prejudice, and reading it as well. It is quite amazing how in order my mind gets after being exposed to such truths and neatly summarized ideals of love. If only I might always savor the virtuous and satisfied feelings of such pretty literature, then I dare not think a frown would ever again set a shadow upon my face!

The 1950’s Housewife vs. the 2011 Tigress

I shall freely and unabashedly admit to the raging feminists out in our modern world that I have certain 1950’s housewife tendencies. My greatest aspiration in life is to raise my children in the Lord, make my family's life happy and beautiful, be a writer, and to attempt to cook supper every night. I have no problem with the idea that my husband is in charge of the household, I have no problem with submitting to him. (As it will be I plan on marrying a respectful man who is not a control mad cad or a power hungry dad.) I also am violently influenced by the glint of pearls and high heels and often times when I find myself dressed up and lovely I will have a horrible craving to start cleaning something.

I do not like how women behave now days. They are tiger women. They are in charge of households, of companies, of associations, and yes, even of men. It seems to be the trend nowadays that if a girl wants a man, she ravenously pursues him and makes all the moves. Personally, I have never felt comfortable with that role. And even though my efficient, waste no time, get-what-I-want mentality often tosses me into tigress temptation, I am really much like a dog. When I chase a boy and finally catch him, I hardly know what to do with him. I believe it was the chase that interested me, not the actual commitment of a boy.


During my homeschool years, I watched my 10th grade history on a set of video tapes. The amazing man, Mr. McBride, was the most fabulous history teacher; you know the kind that actually made history seem like an epic saga instead of a dry compendium of data. One thing he said always stuck out to me.

He told his class that he did not treat his wife as an equal, but rather he treated her higher than an equal and honored her.


Wow! What a man! Where do they make them like that?

I think he touched on the very crux of the entire abused verse ‘wives submit to your husband…” passage in Eph. A woman would have absolutely no problem with submitting to a man who honored her! If only more men would...


For all this woman domination aside, as females, I believe most of us have a vulnerable need inside to be protected, cherished, guided, and sought after. I will be honest, I never have had the privilege to be truly sought after…oh sure, countless boys have tried extremely to win my heart, but there is a difference to me. Deep, true, honest to goodness, hard working, knightly quest of a pursuit, is a concept unexperienced by me. I personally believe God is reserving that challenge for Mr. Right, whenever he decides to show up in my life. For there is something overpowering in the assurance that there is someone stronger than you to lean on and lead you. And in my own opinion, if you have to do all the hunting, it makes the joy of a man rather shallow. I know how emotionally unstable I am! I don’t want to relay on that as my guide! Yet while in this day in age, these powerful tiger women have turned the average man into the “I’ll sit back and let her chase me,” lazy Romeo, a few of us still yearn for the man who will pursue us, honor us, and be the example of the leading man splashed across scriptures.

I will admit I am old-fashioned. I don’t think the Justin Bieber generation may really values ideals that sound like they came straight from “Leave it to Beaver” or “Andy Griffith.” But that is who I am. And I do believe that in the Bible there is a pattern, from Paul’s words all the way back to Adam’s banishment from the garden, that calls man to be the leader, the guide, the head of the house… and most women desire to know that they are taken care of, that they are honored, and that they are protected. So putting aside the darkside of the 1950’s—women’s oppression, misogynist male pigs, really ugly shag carpet… I think we women truly only desire the husband/wife relationship as illustrated in the Bible…. And maybe, for some of the more old-fashioned of us, the high heels, pearls, and vacuum cleaning as well!


“Father, give me the strength to be everything I'm called to be
Oh Father, show me the way To lead them.

To lead them with strong hands, to stand up when they can't
Don't want to leave them hungry for love, chasing things that I could give up
I'll show them I'm willing to fight, and give them the best of my life
So we can call this our home, lead me 'cause I can't do this alone

Father, lead me 'cause I can't do this alone.” ~Sanctus Real

Why I Love History

Edinburgh

I love history. To me, it is a story...a great story to be relived and taught from.

Not so much the dry, dustier than sawdust recitation of history in which endless names and dates and policies and legislation are vomited together in something that is supposed to compel the human mind to term it as "interesting." No, that is not my kind of history. And no, dear friends of mine who enjoy this, I don’t like sitting for hours debating about who killed Kennedy, how many bullets were used, etc. That, to me, seems pointless. I love the history that tells the story of man; his heroic deeds, the colorful ancient world in which he lived, his honor, his passion, his selfless acts of bravery.

I love the Victorian period. I love to hear about the glory of Rome, the age of the Greeks, the Vikings, the crusaders, the Knights, the wars of the world…. Riding horses upon cobblestone, Keats sitting in his quiet garden, lost in composing poetry his race against time and his failing lungs, phonographs, beautiful love letters, the courage of men who fought in war, Edmund Burke’s words, “All that's necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for enough good men to do nothing.”

I love it all so much.

I also love holding old books. No not books from like 1956...I mean old...old books. I have a book that is from 1886. Can you believe that! Sometimes, now don’t think me weird, I go to the library just to browse through old books. I open the featherlike pages, run my fingers across the ancient typography and begin to dream about the world in which this book was born. Oh, what deep and learned minds must have gazed upon the pages.... eyes that never had been tainted by this noisy, materialistic, Twilight driven society. No... the minds that read these words had read Shakespeare, Cowper, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Jane Austen, Aristotle... oh what a world... I wish I had been born in such a time! This is why I love history... I suppose it is tangled within my love of writing and literature. What a pretty world of wonder!