calvinists are more romantic & other things i've learned about love

A repost from a few months ago, by request.

I feel awkward writing about love. Maybe I'm too juvenile. Maybe. Probably because writing about love is sappy and when you're single I think sappy spells "desperate." Since I'm not desperate (believe me if you want to!) this makes for an obvious tension.

That, and people are too quick to take anything written on relationships as prescriptive. (I don't claim to speak to every situation, or for any of my words to become a banner for a crusade against anyone's conscience.) Finally—and this is the deepest issue—my love-philosophy is near and dear to my heart.

Every girl has a love philosophy. Every guy, too, for that matter. I've been working on mine for a long time. This article is that philosophy. It isn't meant to be the next I Kissed Dating Goodbye, nor will this be in any way based on the Song of Solomon. All I intend to do is stir the pot. What's your philosophy on all this stuff? What would you tweak about mine?

So here it is, my not-so-perfectly honed philosophy on love and relationships, as written by the light of a slivery moon (not silvery) and under the influence of the Tangled soundtrack. You're welcome.

A Mature Reality. I am not a Disney princess. If I were one, I'd probably be some combination of Belle and Rapunzel. But that's silly, because there is no such thing as a Bellezel (which sounds like the evil sister of Beelzebub.) There's a reason they have magic carpet rides, hair-that-heals, and magic wilting roses. Because they're fairytales.

It's only rational to draw a distinction between fairytales of our childhood and the reality of life in a pain-filled, bleeding world. If I am to live in this realm, I've got to be honest. This is not a place conducive to happy conclusions. But a mature outlook on pain and reality does not necessitate a rigid, depressing perspective on love. Just because there are famines, AIDS and devils stalking the earth doesn't mean that God cannot be gracious. David wrote of the hope of God being good in the land of the living. (Psalm 27:13) Whether or not that goodness translates for a happy marriage for you personally—it shows that God has been kind in the past, and will be in the future. There is such a thing as grace, and God gives it out in the form of relationships all the time. If I have an amazing love story that makes Anne Shirley and Gilbert Blythe look like shadow puppets, I won't be surprised. Because that's just the kind of stunningly gracious God that He is.

For Guys. Re-stating what is coming to be known as common sense in evangelical circles: it's the guy's job to initiate and lead. There are pastors who have elaborated on why this is. Mark Driscoll said, "Too many Christian guys are cowards. That's why so many non-Christian guys pursue Christian women, because those women are waiting for any man who's got initiative, leadership, courage. That's why sometimes Christian women are interested in non-Christian men; because the Christian men are cowards." There isn't much more I can say beyond that, except as a Christian young woman, I appreciate that someone loud and listened-to spoke that openly. Guys, he's right. Let Driscoll's belt-whipping sink in. Now go git 'er.

For Girls. Oh, girls. We talk about relationships so much. But I wonder how often we're actually preached to on this subject. Just how solid is our grasp—beyond gossip and the Christian version of Cosmogirl wisdom? We're told to wait, to be patient, to not throw ourselves at guys. (That, we know, is the best way to be desirable. It's good sense to wait, but do we adopt this as our motto in an attempt to become more attractive to guys, like becoming forbidden fruit? Is this just the old game of hard-to-get, or is this actual patience birthed in self-control?)

Patience makes sense, because if guys are going to be initiators and leaders, we have to give them space to breathe. But I do wonder if, in all the d's where we demand them to direct, define the relationship, and decide if they like us right away, whether we're calling them to a standard of bravery we've neglected for ourselves. We call on guys to decide if they wish to spend their lives with us. (And guys, you need to decide this. You really do. As pastor Matt Chandler said once, "Quit playing with their hearts. Fricking grow up…You're leaving a wake behind you of destruction.") But I wonder if, when we want all our borders and statuses defined officially (that is, Facebook officially) from the get-go, if we are calling our brothers to a braveness and certainty we don't have ourselves. Because if we were brave, we'd learn the meaning of self-control; of taking things slow, and of wise evaluation. This leads me to my next thought.

Pain. Let's just get this off the table once and for all. A friend of mine told me on the phone recently, about how she was hesitant to say anything confrontational to a guy who has given her special attention on-and-off for three years. She's afraid to do something that may cause her pain. "Okay," I said something that had been brewing in my heart for weeks but was never verbalized, "let's just forget this pain thing altogether. It's not worth being a factor in your decisions. Let's just face it right now that if you date the guy, and get engaged, and then get married—he will hurt you. In some way, shape or form, he will because he is human and to live a human life is to have pain; and there is no relationship that isn't messy. And if the status quo continues, you will be pained as well by the 'what-if's.' So let's just get this pain thing off the table forever, because pain is going to happen." Thankfully, she took it graciously. She knows I was preaching to myself.

That being said, pain is real and will always be present in this body. Instead of running away from it, the Christian call has always been a unique one—that we must learn to view pain as a carrier. Pain carries us to the arms of the Father. Pain brings us to a place where we are moldable, pliable in the hands of God.

Pain is a product of the Enemy, but still subject to our Father, who allows nothing to happen in vain–no agony is by Him wasted. (2 Cor. 4:17) As the poet, Auden said, "…in the prison of his days, let the free man learn to praise." If the contents of your days imprison you, you'll find freedom in the learning of praise. Real freedom–the kind prisons can't keep locked.

With that in mind, rather than fearing pain, wouldn't it be infinitely better to fear mis-using the pain we've been given? If we're going to be given prisons (we know we are), neglecting to learn joy-amidst-suffering would make the pain a waste. That would be the truest tragedy.

Fate. My Chinese sister, Wei, told me the story of Yue lao (月老), the Chinese matchmaking god. Legend has it that he connects two people together by tying a long red cord to their wrists. They may pass through life and never meet, but for the duration of eternity they will be soul-tied. And gosh, that's a gorgeous legend, as far as legends about matchmaking deities go.

But hearing her story made me glad that the Christian view of sovereignty is different. Unlike Yue lao, who doesn't care whether his beknotted earthlings ever meet, God not only plans our days–He guides them. This is not to drift into arguing for an all-too-elusive One-True-Love. That's another conversation. What I'm saying here is that God outlined our storylines long ago. (Psalm 139:4-5, 16)

Calvinists may not be the people you first think of alongside such romantics as Keats and Tennyson, but my Arminian friends must admit they do have something nifty going on. When you believe that God is sovereign over your life and that means that He guides your steps, plans and puts limits on your wanderings—it is a comfort. Because our God is kind and will bring about His good purpose. (Provebrs 16:1-4) That knowledge frees us to joy, obedience, and eyes set in hope on the Father. And it means you believe that it's within God's jurisdiction (seriously? what isn't God's jurisdiction?) to choose someone for us to marry. Nice.

How do you know if someone is THAT SOMEONE? Probably the sweetest thing I've ever heard a pastor say about deciding whether someone is the one you should marry, "I always say there's the one you can live with, and the one you can't live without."

There are probably thousands of guys that would roughly fit the qualifications I made in my head, even if I my list were arbitrary and choosy ("He must appreciate Mumford and Sons, and a good cup of chai…"). Heck, I could walk into a Starbucks and half the guys would qualify. But it's not a question of checkmarks on a list. When it's that person, it'll be the one you can't live without. You can't let go. You can't bear the thought of separating forever—and half the time you aren't even sure why. It may not be because your personalities or interests necessarily "fit" in a rational way, but because something does in an irrational way, and you can't explain it.

Taming. It's a concept a friend recently brought up. She was re-reading The Little Prince, an unconventional French fairytale that is a must-read for all whimsical and romantic. At one point, the prince comes across a fox in the field. The fox says they cannot be friends unless the prince tames him. "To you I'm nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you'll be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…"

Ah, that is some truth.

What if we are not perfect for each other because we are perfect people, but because we tame each other? What if, by relationship, we work out each other's snags and snarls—and even though a half a million other boys would check all the same marks on my list—you become, you, to me? If we were to draw this into the theological zone, I'd say that we sanctify each other. God made me to sanctify you. We fit.

I think my friend's fairytale stretches deeper than a fairytale, into the realm of the mystery. Love, if it is real, is ultimately not about qualifications or perfections. Qualifications might be guide markers for us, but they cannot cause love on their own. Love is a process, an active, interacting state of being as much as it is a word for Hallmark cards (if not more). To love is to be moved, transformed and changed into the image of love. (Is that not what our Bibles teach us already?) So in the end, I distrust people who have set guidelines; guys who have a "type" that narrows to a specific look, girls who go after guys with a specific sense of humor. Because they do not know yet much of the transforming nature of love.

Don't choose someone based on a type, because after love comes like a hurricane, they will no longer remain the same person. Maybe that's just the currently-single romantic in me. But I think not.

Love is LOVE. Finally, don't forget what it is we're talking about here. This is a celebration; something to sing about (even if that song is something by "Regrets-and-mistakes-are-memories-made"-Adele). There is grace in that, too. Don't listen to the break-up's, the 500 Days of Summer and all the voices that would argue for a "realistic" view of love that is entirely hopeless, faithless, and unexciting. I understand that kind of thinking–the kind that is quick to count sorrows but not to count gifts and blessings. Sure, this world hurts a lot, and the odds against good things happening aren't pretty.

God is bigger than that.