Roller Coasters and Bananas

***Disclaimer: I am making a sincere effort to curse less. But sorry if there are still a few slipups.

Church has a way of getting my brain going. I’m not even sure if it really directly correlates even to what is being sung or discussed or preached. But man, can it get my grey matter cells firing red. And I’m thinking about men, and pardon me, but I’m not going to hold back. So reader beware. Once again.

I felt like with the last man I dated that I had asked God for a yes or no and all I got was a bunch of silence. And if He had just said “No” when I asked one of the thousand times I asked Him, it sure would have saved me a lot of pain. The two months after that relationship ended were some of the darkest two months I’ve ever known. And I’ve known some dark times. Probably darker, really. Maybe I shouldn’t try to one up myself. But those months – I felt completely devoid of any hope. I felt like an utter and obvious failure. I felt, literally, that the rug had been jerked out from under my feet. Again. That I was a silly girl chasing a silly dream, and got knocked on my duff, for all to see. My very soul bled. And my dreams and my hopes. Yes, I was crushed by something that seemed far bigger than me.

And now, in this moment, I don’t feel like that. It’s a roller coaster ride, my life is. And as time goes by, I think everyone’s must be. At least to some extent. And I have a new hill I could ride – or actually, am already riding. I met a man who I find extremely physically attractive. And he’s fun to hang out with and talk to. It’s fun. It makes me smile. 

I found myself last week on a chairlift, surrounded and awed by God’s magnificent creation, again beseeching Him to just tell me yes or no. And laughing a bit inwardly in a sarcastic manner because I feel He won’t answer me. I’m honest about that with Him, even though I know I’m in the wrong. He didn’t catapult me out of the chair lift or anything.

So in Sunday school I find myself trying to summarize the major reasons for failure in that last relationship – because we can only not repeat history by reviewing it, right? And in a complete honest assessment I came up with three major reasons, not really in any particular order. 

1) Physically we went too far, and not just because God shakes His finger and says “No, no, no! No touchy! Put the Bible between you and have 6” on each side of it!” But also because there is wisdom in God’s denying us this short term pleasure. We were not at a level of emotional intimacy. Why do I say that? I mean, I told him I loved him (the dude, not God. Although I do love God. Not saying I don’t.)Without delving into another huge major subject, let’s just say that I had not shared intimately with this man some of my own emotional and physical and mental and sexual scars. And since we were not at that level of intimacy, the – see, I would not even call it physical INTIMACY – I would just call it….. I’m making a face here you wish you could see….. I would just call it physical NESS. So since we were not at that level of intimacy, the whole thing back fired and then blew up, flinging blood and caca everywhere. That’s the best descriptor I’ve got. And boy, was it everywhere. I’m still cleaning up the pieces.

2) I’ve written on this enough so I am not going to expound much, but he was not a spiritual leader. Not only was he not a spiritual leader, but we were not even on the same page. So even though he was a Christian, we still were not equally yoked. I thought equally yoked just meant believers, and that’s it, but I think it goes beyond that. And I don’t mean to come across as some spiritual super star – because I’m obviously and most certainly not. At all. But I’m seeking God – I’m seeking Christ – and fervently. And I think that’s different than just stating you are a believer who doesn’t go to church because... whatever the reason may be. And maybe I’m a self-righteous jack ass too, but I don’t think so.

3) He was still married. Technically. And that, folks, isadultery. And adultery is a sin. I don’t think that one needs anymore explanation.

Okay, so here I am. At the start of another roller coaster ride. I’m already on the ride. We’re taxiing up that first big hill – you know, where you are going super slow, and the anticipation is building, and you wonder if you should just put both hands straight up in the air or clamp down on the bar or wonder how you ever even got on this ride in the first place what was I thinking? In fact, we might be in that split second moment when you finally crest that hill and your heart leaps up in your chest and what the heck, you throw both your arms up and suck in your breath and your heart jumps and FREEZE! I’m frozen in time in that exact moment. Right there. Complete freeze frame. 

Frozen.

[“Let it go! Let it go! Don’t hold it back anymore!” Sorry. Edith is 7 and it’s 2015, after all; I can’t help it. I need a little picture of Olaf.]

Is this the ride I want to be on? Is this a repeat of the last ride? And honestly, not yet, it isn’t. I could break the safety bar and eject myself. My thoughts circle back to the three reasons for previous failure. Physical intimacy is still safe. That’s not an issue. But I have to be honest with myself – is that only a function of time? Of where, on this particular ride, I am? Has anything changed, really? In me? Is anything different? Am I willing to put on my brakes with my hands, like I do when I’m sliding down a roof, at the expense of my own skin? They say to know thyself. I know myself. So while it seems like this one is in the bag, at this exact moment, I know darn tootin’ well it isn’t.

And at this point, I don’t even really have to review number two and three. But three is easy – he is not married. No issue there. My learning curve is not *completely* inversed, after all. But number two isn’t there, either. And the big thought that occurs to me today while I’m sitting in church is How Will I Know? How will I know that I’ve met someone with whom I am equally yoked? It seems to me I’ve put myself in the self-righteous judging chair – a Pharisee saying You-Are-Not-In-Your-Walk-Where-I-Am-Because-I-Am-Awesome-And-Holy-And-You-Are-A-Degenerate. I mean, who am I? Who do I think I am? Me, of all people, to sit in a seat of judgment? To just say, not this one, not that one, and toss them to the wind? Reminds me of a phrase I love – Who died and made you God? But now I’m saying it to myself. So is that voice right or wrong? Who is speaking that to me?

And thus I waffle. Switch from the roller coaster analogy to Mario Cart. The Will of God is the right hand wall on the race course. And The Will of Ami is on the left side of the race course. We haven’t really talked about the Will of Ami in this discourse, but I have to admit something to you. I’m human. I really am. My skin craves touch. I feel starved of touch. Oh, I get my snuggles from Edith. And sometimes, if I offer her cheese, she’ll even rub my back for 23 seconds. But that doesn’t even usually work. (I’m making myself laugh so I don’t cry). I look around, and I’m insanely jealous of women who have men to talk to at the end of the day. Men to giggle with under the covers. Men to even take out the trash. Simple things - start the car when it’s cold. Paint the front door. Mow the yard. Fix the broken door knob. And beyond that, because I can do most of that, or have friends (great friends) who can help me. And I can hire a massage therapist and a yard man. But I also yearn for companionship. Male companionship. True intimacy. I want someone to swing on a porch swing with in my old age and hold my hand. My very soul yearns to be treasured in the most intimate of ways.

And when someone caresses me, pays attention to me, desires me - I have a strong tendency to not just slightly turn the wheel, but to go crashing into the side wall and slip on a banana and completely wipe out. I guess as I learn to steer better, instead of completely wiping out, I just bounce off of that wall and then bounce off of the other wall, and thus go bouncing down the race course like a drunk, slipping on bananas. And if you’ve ever played Mario Cart before, you know that isn’t how you win the race.

At least my precipice has walls now.

And so that’s where I am. I feel I should reach some great theatrical conclusion. Yet that’s all I have right now. 

But I am thinking God isn’t as silent as He lets on.