on sex, or rather, not having sex

First, the warning: Serious adult themes ahead. Be aware.

Next, the disclaimer: This post is about a book I'm reading and how it's changing my approach to sex, or rather, (as per the title) my approach to not having sex. My opinions may not be your opinions and that's okay. I hope we can share a mutual love and respect anyways.

Now, for the good stuff.

Having grown up in the evangelical Christian world, and having spent the previous 4 years at Wheaton College, that bastion of evangelical higher learning, it should not be a surprise that I have decided to save sex for marriage. I have not, however, kissed dating goodbye. I have more or less "frenched dating hello," as the joke at Wheaton went.

Right, so that's part of my life. I chose the abstinence route and have found it empty and dissatisfying. There has to be a better, more consequential, less teenaged way to describe the commitment I am now choosing to make. I'm drawing a line in the sand right now, at age 22. I just don't know what to call either side of the line, and I feel like I need to identify it clearly as I step.

There's your background. Here's the book: Singled Out: Why Celibacy Must Be Reinvented in Today's Church. The co-authors are both unmarried women, one of whom was actually a brilliant professor of mine at Wheaton (for the record, I worked harder but learned more in her classes than any other!).

This book has helped me define either side of my sand line: Abstinence and Celibacy. I don't mean to say this is what the book says. I mean to say this is a personal conviction to which the book has helped me arrive.

It's like this. What is the chorus of abstinence-promoters? "Wait." Which I will do, of course. But that punch line is predicated on the idea that something is coming next. Namely, marriage. And what's a Christian girl to do when marriage comes later than she expected? Or never comes at all?

The answer then, as I see it, is celibacy. Ah, yes, the term previously reserved for ascetics and that most holy calling of marriage to Christ. ONLY NOT. Celibacy is the new abstinence, people! We're talking everybody from Lutherans and Agnostics and Non-denominationalists and Catholics to those rebels who simply counter our sex-crazed culture are jumping on the bandwagon.

Celibacy (and this idea does come from the book) is a personal commitment you make in the face of the general attitude of life around you. Abstinence is an outward statement, i.e. sign your pledge card, and celibacy is a more mature, internal conviction.

The thing about either short-term or long-term celibacy is that it doesn't really have a place in the evangelical church at the moment. That section of the Church universal is mostly family-oriented. Which is fine, except if you're a middle-age single Christian. Then it could be difficult to truly connect with a group of believers who are, by and large, married with kids. Which is why things need to change.

Personally, I want to be counter-cultural. I enjoy bucking the system (she writes, from her flat in the middle of Nigeria on a laptop running on battery because there's no electricity, ignoring her itchy palms that may or may not be a symptom of tapeworm). See? I like bucking the system. And the "system" I've grown up in uses sex as the primary advertising tool.

Wouldn't I just be the worst consumer in the world if a product's sex appeal did not appeal to me because I was not motivated by sex? What a way to mess with economics. What a way to buck the system!

Celibacy is going to change the face of sexual purity. It's a conscious choice I make, not an unfortunate set of circumstances that has befallen me because I am unmarried. Celibacy is more than just waiting for what comes next. It's not waiting at all. You see, the place I am (which one could call "singlehood") actually has something beneficial to teach me, and if I limit myself to just waiting, or am more focused on what comes next, I might just miss the lesson I have to learn right here, right now.

That lesson, it seems, is that as a single Christian woman, I have a divine, integral purpose in the Body of Christ. My sexuality is a God-given part of me, yes, but it does not make me who I am (i.e. single vs. married or virgin vs. sexually active). Whether or not I get married, whether or not I raise children, whether or not I have sex, I am purposed. As I make the transition from abstinence to celibacy, I may slip up: I may lose my focus on the place I am by looking ahead or by "just waiting". But I don't want to lose sight of that bigger calling, ever. As I stand on the Celibacy side of the line, I need the Body of Christ to support me while I support the Body of Christ.

Bottom line: Read the book. Draw a line in the sand. And if you cross over, let me know. You won't be standing alone.

wheaton, bubbles, and the experience formerly known as graduation

A year ago tomorrow, I wore a ridiculous hat, walked across a platform chanting internally "don't trip, don't trip, don't trip," shook the hand of a man I'd never met before, and received a piece of paper covered with a whole bunch of cursive writing.

Graduation sounds so absurd when you put it that way.

I've had a lot of time to reflect on the end of my time at Wheaton...a whole year, in fact. As grateful as I am that I had 4 years there to grow and mature, I wish I'd had the wisdom to anticipate the transition out.

"The Wheaton Bubble" is what we named the insular nature of our college. I'm sure other Christian colleges had their own bubbles, so we're not special in that regard. Wheaton doesn't have a monopoly on community, either, but there's something about the Wheaton Bubble and the Wheaton Community that alums carry with them.

While I was still a part of both, they were simply punch lines. What does one do on a Friday night? The options are pretty limited, thanks to the Wheaton bubble. And good luck keeping secrets in the Wheaton community.

Except now that I've left, they aren't punch lines anymore. I genuinely miss belonging to both the bubble and the community. I find myself willing to overlook all the unhealthy habits, all the backbiting, all the gossip, all the ways we ignore and hurt one another when we (women in particular) live together in community. Dwelling on the negatives helps me feel better about being out and very very far away from the people that defined "Wheaton Community" for me. Remembering the positive, helpful, beautiful things about the Wheaton community stirs up an intense longing, though.

The truth is, I don't do transitions well. Had I chosen a college closer to home, I probably would have shown up for high school drama performances and home basketball games until someone gave me a weird look and said, "What are you doing here?" Except not basketball because I hate basketball. Given the chance, I definitely would have been that kid.

So it's good that I chose an out of state college, and it is also good that I spent my first year out of college on another continent. It forced me to transition (the "over-and-done-with" verb, not the "complicated-and-lengthy-process" noun), and while I've experienced the full spectrum of feelings from "Screw community who needs it" to "Please I need some place to belong," I think I've learned how to be an adult, not because I had the option, but because I did not.

As the class of 2010 walks tomorrow, I wish them both a peaceful transition out of Wheaton and another source of community, and the wisdom to tell the difference.

My Heart and the Life Verse Phenomenon, Part II

I have a confession:

Africa was never the desire of my heart.

Which, in a 20/20 hindsight kind of way, is how I know I'm exactly where God wants me to be.

Let's examine the reasons I never wanted to move to Africa:
1. I speak Spanish. I love Spanish. Why would I move to a continent entirely incompatible with 8 years of linguistic training?
2. I generally enjoy living in a nation with a stable infrastructure & an organized government, and without an international reputation for scams.
3. I bargained with God at the age of 9: I would go wherever He wanted me, except Africa.

Oh, sorry, you thought bargaining was only something adults do in the 4th stage of grief? Nope, kids do it, too. Here's how it went down for me:

I have a distinct memory of reading a collection of missionary stories which told about some place in Africa that had these killer ants that sting and bite their way into your ears and wreck your brain. Or something like that.

I sat on the floor of my basement reading about these ants and saying to God, "Okay, buddy, look. You can send me anywhere you want. But I am not going there. Got it?" We learn to bargain with God at such a very young age.

I toyed with the idea of mission work for the better half of my young life, and by my last semester at Wheaton College, my perception of mission work had changed drastically. I'm more in tune with the Humanitarian Work + Jesus model.

As in, "Yes, I'll build a well for your village, supplying you with safe drinking water that will potentially extend your life expectancy. When I'm finished with the well, can I tell you about some Living Water? It extends life expectancy, too." I'm all about that approach.

By May 2009, the "Reasons Maggie Never Wants to Live in Africa" list had grown:

4. I have a bunch of student loans, and few missions organizations will sign on full-time missionaries with debt.
5. I spent all 4 years of college answering the question, "What are you going to do with an English degree? Teach?" with an emphatic "NO WAY, NOT ME."
6. I need a salary. I'm not comfortable taking a job that requires me to itinerate support.
7. My brother Jake moved to Wheaton, and frankly, I want to be in the same state after a 4-year separation.

The list was getting longer, you see. But as I added bullet points to that list, another list was forming: The "Reasons Maggie Will End Up Moving to Africa" list:

1. The economy tanked. Any job is a good job.
2. My English degree does allow me to teach in private schools. Talk about keeping options open.
3. 6-month and 9-month grace periods on federal student loans have this tendency to creep up on you.
4. As much as I love my parents and appreciate their hospitality, the whole being a jobless bum thing was really unflattering. It was the first time I'd been unemployed since the 8th grade, and I hated it. I wanted out.

I have a feeling God knew I would flake out on the living overseas thing. I spent 13 years second-guessing, doubting, questioning, evading, avoiding, ignoring, making excuses, and running in the opposite direction. I imagine God was shaking his head, because I played the part of Israel perfectly.

In Hosea 2, Israel was unfaithful to God like a wife returning to a life of prostitution. God's response?
6 Therefore I will block her path with thornbushes;
I will wall her in so that she cannot find her way
7 She will chase after her lovers but not catch them;
she will look for them but not find them.
Then she will say,
'I will go back to my husband as at first,
for then I was better off than now.'

I was so content in my mud that God had to frustrate me relationally, economically, professionally, physically, financially, and emotionally just to get my attention.

All the while, Africa waited.

God was blocking my path with thorns, backing me into a corner with job loss and breakups, making sure that when I tried to get out of my corner, the open path was Nigeria.

Honestly, I feel that all the events of the past 15 months of my life occurred if solely for the purpose of getting me to Africa, which is both terrifying and relieving. It's terrifying because that means that "such a time as this" is really important. It's relieving because for all my wandering and wrong turns, God still brought me to this place. I didn't screw it up. God is bigger than my ignorance.

For 13 years, Africa was not my desire, but it is now.

That's how I know I'm not in the mud anymore.

My Heart and the Life Verse Phenomenon

I don't remember exactly when, in my churched childhood, I first came across the idea of "The Life Verse." I must have been young, because I can't recall ever hearing the phrase and not immediately comprehending it.

In my opinion, The Life Verse exists at the place where the church meets consumerist culture. Which is not to say that the concept of The Life Verse is heretical or blasphemous. It's one way that we make Scripture pertain specifically to ourselves as individuals (i.e. "How can Scripture meet my needs?") and another way that Christians succeed in marketing religion back to ourselves. If that statement made you angry, I would be happy to forward you my senior-year thesis on the purchasing of Brand Jesus, which will help you understand where I'm coming from. You could also read Tyler Wigg Stevenson's book of the same name.

The timeline goes as follows: somewhere in my early childhood, I learned that I could claim a Scripture verse to be the theme of my as-yet-unlived life. I could claim it and it could be a guidepost, a veritable memorial stone--just like in Joshua 4--representing the times when God showed up: a testament to enduring faithfulness. Some time after this, I came to see Psalm 37:4 as my Life Verse:

"Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart."

Fast-forward ten years. In the fall of my senior year, during a quarter-life crisis (in which the soon-to-be college graduate freaks out about the impending doom of her aimless life), my very wise roommate Sarah shared with me that my life verse can be understood in two ways. Yes, she said, most people interpret it in the way I had, believing that delighting oneself in the Lord will result in assured happiness, indeed, in the things you most want in life: the deepest desires of your heart. But, she informed me, some read it this way: when you are so deep in the will of God, when His will is the only thing you care to pursue and when His face is the only thing filling your line of vision, you will find that the things your heart wants most are--in an ironic twist--the things HE most wants. Those, she said, are the desires of your heart when you delight yourself in Him: His desires.

Can I get an amen?

It took a few days to sink in, but I cannot be more convinced that this second, newer (new, at least, to me) interpretation is more accurate. The first seems too consumerist to be true: that God would give me what I want as long as I am delighting in Him (whatever that unidentified term delight means). It seems much more probable that in my love affair with a God who knows me better than I know myself, He would exchange what I think I want for what is actually better for me to have. We recognize this today as a mother's love.

This is how I picture it. I was sitting, happily mucking about, in puddle of mud, completely oblivious to my own filth. In comes Jesus Christ, who takes me by the hand and leads pulls yanks me out of the mud. I protest; I kick and I scream. "But I like it here," I say. "I want to stay; I want this - it's fun!"
As He washes the mud from body, he quiets me in a whisper: "My child, you don't know what you want. That is, what you say you want, you don't actually know it. It's mud. You're dirty. I want to give you what I want for you."
It's then that I realize the mud is washed away, pooled on the floor at my feet. I'm standing, shivering, wet, cold, and naked. I can see that the mud is dirty, filthy, wretched and has been drowning me in its filth and making me dirty and wretched. And I want nothing more than to have what He wants to give me: a garment of praise and a crown of righteousness.

That's what Psalm 37:4 means to me. It means that all the things I want in this world, all the dreams I can dream up for myself, all the places I want to go, all the plans I make for my future- they are all mud. I think I know what it is I want, I think I understand what I'm asking for, but what He wants to give me is so. much. better. than what I desire. And as I busy myself in my mud, perfectly content with the nearsighted visions that placate me, Psalm 37:4 reminds me that when I delight myself in Him, the things I want fall away and are replaced by the grandiose treasures He desires on my behalf.

Please understand that this new reading of my so-called Life Verse does not, in fact, make my life easier. It's more complicated now. It involves deep internal questions: These things I want, are they what He wants? This situation I'm sitting in, is it mud? That goal I've set, is it too narrow in scope?

In the midst of my questions, though, comes the reassurance that as long as I'm delighting myself in Him--seeking His will instead of living for myself--my desires will align with His until mine don't even exist anymore.

That is worth climbing out of the mud for.

I have a social life!

Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back my social life! After an extended absence, featuring several instances of lesson planning on Friday nights and various weeks of going only to work and straight home, I'm pleased to announce that my extroversion has made a long-awaited appearance!

All joking aside, I spent Friday afternoon at the home of a lovely American coworker. She's been inviting me over since August, and we finally got around to it! Mrs. C is married to a Nigerian and has two delightful young boys. It was so wonderful to spend the afternoon and evening in the midst of a family. We had lunch - some delicious Nigerian rice and plantain and chicken - and the boys kept bringing me balloons to blow up for them. It brought me so much rest to talk about adapting to culture and staying in touch with family and making long-term decisions that affect everything.

Saturday morning Jan and I made our way to another friend's home. Their daughter is currently at Wheaton (my alma mater) but spent Christmas visiting her parents, who work for the U.S. Embassy. They made us brunch (Waffles and fruit? Sign me up!) and then we spent a delightful afternoon at their pool, chatting and catching up on everything Wheaton.

It was so refreshing to speak with someone who feels such a deep love for all that Wheaton is, as opposed to some of the disillusioned, jaded Wheaton "survivors" I spent the last year talking with. I share this young woman's appreciation for the ways Wheaton has shaped us as individuals and helped us grow, and it felt something like closure for me to reminisce on my Wheaton experience, reflecting on the positive, instead of the negative. The sunshine and 92 degree weather only sweetened the conversation. (Don't worry, Mom, I wore sunscreen!)

This morning was church, and though Sunday mornings look a lot different than it did in August, what with the absence of an official pastor, I know that God is still present in our continually-changing community.
I give thanks today for the blessing of a church family: people who noted my absence and welcomed me back, people who nodded with understanding when I said that leaving home this time was infinitely more difficult than in August, people who asked eagerly if I will return next fall because they want me to come back. People want me to come back. I am wanted here.
As difficult as it is to leave behind the familiar and come back for another 6 months in this place that is not home, it is easier knowing that my presence is desired, and that people will miss me when I leave (and come June 18, I will leave).

On that note, I have not decided yet if I will return for a second year. Some days I lean one way and some days I lean another. Making an objective decision is impossible--emotions are implicitly involved--so prayer is my method. I am praying that God will reveal His plan to me. You may agree with me in that prayer, but I will ask that you do not pray that I will come home (or, conversely, that I will stay).
I'm serving a holy God in a place that makes me uncomfortable, and I'm finding joy and fulfillment in that obedience. Obedience, then, is my primary objective. If obedience means Nigeria, America, or the Galapagos Islands, I will follow where He leads. Pray, please, that I will be obedient, whatever that means for my future trajectory. Thank you for praying. It is sustaining me in this Hot Season.