Sunday, September 25, 2011

How to think about marriage

So my pastor preached on Colossians 3:18 today. I sat in the first row rapt with confusion over those five simple words: "Wives, submit to your husbands." The message kind of stepped all over the last shreds of egalitarianism I was mulling over in my mind. What then, does this submission look like? . . . I guess I have a while to figure it out. 

It made me realize that I'm in that awkward phase of growing up when I don't know how to think about things. Like that kid who finds out Santa Claus isn't real, and needs to find a new way of thinking about Christmas. I'm that girl who's gotten one too many wedding invitations in the mail and is only just now realizing, "Wait, this is a thing?!"

You see, years of homeschool conferences and careful reading lists clearly spelled out how to think about marriage when I was younger. And it was so easy, too! The doctrine basically was, you're not old enough or mature enough to get married, so don't think about it. Don't think. So much freedom! So I militantly pushed it out of my mind, rolling my eyes at those way-ward girls who were constantly "in like" and sprayed their relationship status all over Facebook. (I spend a lot of time throwing flame-retardant on my judgmental streak.)

But I don't know. Then I got a little older. (I hear that happens to younger people.) My friends started getting married and "not thinking about it" is beginning to cease to be an option. Because even though marriage is still very much out there in the "someday", I'm moving closer towards a place where I ought to be cultivating myself into someone who will be worthy of marriage. And, that's kind of weird.

And the homeschool conferences don't really tell you what to do in this stage. 

On the one hand, I do want to get married. I feel all self-conscious admitting that in black and white, but, I do. On the other hand, it's more than just possible God is "calling" me to singleness. It makes me a little sad and a little terrified, but also very excited to think I could be facing the rest of my life depending not on a person but on God alone. But back to the one hand, it's definitely a little soon to be making these kinds of judgments all around! So maybe you see my thought-process here; I'm kind of caught in a loop.

Getting older just keeps getting more and more complicated. 

Thursday, September 22, 2011

I bought expensive shoes today

This has been a week of gross sleep deprivation. The weird thing is, it's not like I killed myself staying up late to get homework done. It was more like, I never got around to going to sleep. I do things that are bad for me without knowing why I did them.

This morning it all caught up with me. Even though my class isn't until 9:30, I got to campus at 8am to get some homework done, and as I sat outside my psychology classroom, I talked myself into cutting class. I don't know why. I like the class, like the material, like the professor, was on track with the reading . . . hm, no, wait, I remember. I think I wanted to avoid one of my friends who is also in the class. 

I just never know what to say to him. The professor is always late, so we usually have a good fifteen minutes to make conversation, and, I never have anything to say. Last semester we stayed up late into the wee hours talking about humanity and biology and the existence of God. Now it's a feeble "Hey, have you started your project? Me neither." Riveting. 

I think this ate up my mind this morning because I finally got to go to Intervarsity last night. Which always gets me thinking about my missional focus at my school. And how epically I'm failing at it. I'm failing with my friend from psychology class. And my mood worsened as I walked to work, where I am also failing. (I wonder if the new hires even know I'm a Christian.)

So I've made myself sick to my stomach, and I don't know why. Thinking about "my missional focus" stresses me out, so I don't think about it. I'm disturbed by how neatly I compartmentalize my testimony, and how my vigor for God's work has faded. But then, I don't do anything about it. And so, I'm troubled by how untroubled I am, and I feel helpless over how pathetic that is. 

Part of me is sensible and says, "You're overtired. You're not feeling well. You've worked yourself into a frenzy over an existential non-question, and you'll feel better in the morning." The other part of me is honest and says, "You've got to deal with this sometime. Stop procrastinating your liberation. It's so close, if you'd only take it."

They were Sperry topsiders, the shoes were. I'm such an old lady, I ordered them online. I'm probably going to return them when they arrive, that seems like the sensible thing to do. I guess I'm one of those people who spends money when they're upset. I think I felt guilty about skipping class. I should sleep. Hm.