For the Love of the Game

Conveniently enough, I get Chrissie's blog in my inbox any time she writes something new and fabulous, and she recently turned me on to this post. (it's short, go check it out) In it, the author talks about how love is a choice, describing the metaphor of God's pursuit of Israel as seen in the book of Hosea. Hosea (and God) continued to pursue his prostitute, not because she "made him happy" or "completed him," but because he made a covenant choice to love her.

Not really new stuff for me, but something in the article triggered a conversation I had a while back with a friend of mine (a churchie, at that). He argued on behalf of his crew of Christian guys, saying that they didn't want to feel pressured by the women in their lives to date--that they, frankly, wanted to be "allowed to fall in love." What's with that?

My mind starts breaking things down. Taken as fact:
1. Love is a choice.
2. Marriage is a choice.
But the problem is that we want the storybook stuff. Dating and marriage can't be like buying socks: you scan your options, checking things like price--and don't for a minute think that girls don't come with different prices--, color, softness, and so forth, then grab a pair (pun?) and head for the check out. (Or for the more simple, snag the first pack you see and get out of there) Shouldn't love tug at your heartstrings a little more than that? When it comes to analyzing Biblical ideas, I feel forced to be so black and white. Godly: picking an appropriate mate. Sinful: getting all mushy about it. I hate that we so often associate emotions with sin. True, those little boogers (emotions) can be tricky, but I know for a fact that stoicism isn't godly either. God himself has emotions, and he likely created emotion in us to reflect it in Him. So where do we draw the line?

Which brings me to my next point: why am I so obsessed with drawing lines? I feel like most of my posts are me trying to analyze and define all the areas of my life (ok, maybe just those parts that deal with relationships--are we seeing a theme?), asking a lot of questions and never really getting anywhere. And no, this post isn't leading to my vow to make a change--I'll probably continue as the same nut job I've always been--but it might explain why I haven't written as much lately. Because it's hard to write about life when you're busy living it.

Tangent aside, I feel like people know by now--because our culture is obsessed with psychoanalysis--that it's common to fall in love with the idea of love. We realize the benefit of couples' counseling and always cede to the relationship advice of Dr. Phil-types. In the church, we do sermon series on love and intimacy just so that we make sure to get it right. And of course we read and blog about it to cover our bases, so love doesn't sneak up and bite us while we are off guard.

On my more pessimistic days, I think that all men should, at a certain, marriageable age, sit down with a book about how to choose a woman--or better yet, with an older couple who can choose one for him--then pick and get hitched. (Of course if that were the norm, I'd probably be blogging my complaints about that system.) Still, I'm pretty old fashioned about the promises we make "for better or worse," and hope that if I marry, I won't break that covenant without a fight. On the other hand, I'm a dreamer, a self-proclaimed princess/damsel in distress type who is easily captivated by the sweep-her-off-her-feet fairy tale. Somehow I think that marriage for me will be super-easy because I'll be "in love," because I'll do everything right, because I was bred and raised to be wife and mom. How do those two worlds coexist within one tiny me? Well, they do, and I don't really feel like figuring out how it works exactly, except to assume that there must be some sort of balance and meshing.

Now it seems that I've run myself into so many circles that I don't know how to end this thing. God forbid I save it so that I can go back later and fix the structural lack-of-integrity. Why thoughtfully consider, when I could rant? How else could I secure myself humbling (or frightening and inappropriate) correction via the comments section?

A friend's recent wise words come to mind. It doesn't take any faith to earnestly desire things like health and happiness...because it is natural to hope for those. When prayers for health aren't answered, it's not because we just didn't believe hard enough (or have enough faith) that God could heal. It's not that we didn't want it enough--who are we to manipulate God by our petty desires, anyway? What takes faith is believing that the way God wants to orchestrate things is actually the best way...that whether or not I understand it, He does. So I guess the wisest way to handle this love stuff comes back around to a choice: however He plans to work it all out for me, I'm game.