Somebody told me once that chivalry is dying.
Somebody told me once that chivalry is dying.
Maybe I’m not supposed to say that. But it does.
Anytime I can’t wrap my mind around something, I have this reaction.
Take space. Space boggles my mind. The fact that you could get in a rocket ship with never-ending fuel and literally fly for-ever? You wouldn’t run into some sort of wall? That’s crazy. And that’s just space. A place people have actually explored.
When it comes to boggling the mind, heaven is like space on steroids.
Last Friday, my good friend Wendy Miller asked a very Wendy-like question. I say Wendy-like, because if you know this woman, you know the waters run deep. And pretty much everything that comes out of her mouth is either encouraging or thought-provoking or hilarious.
So anyway. Her thought-provoking question on Friday was: Righteous anger or no anger?
Which led to: Will there be anger in heaven?
Which led to: No, there won’t. Because God’s righteous anger results from sin and there won’t be sin in heaven.
Which led to my mind being boggled.
Here are just a few things about heaven that strain my brain:
*Photo by mediatunes
Call me old fashioned. Call me archaic. But when it comes to dating, I think the man should pursue the woman. I think, deep down, every woman wants to be pursued.
In high school, I was way too eager to date. Way too eager to be liked by boys. Anytime one showed interest, I’d quickly turn into that girl. The one who called too much, hoping the boy didn’t have caller ID. The one who expended way too much emotion and energy trying to figure out if the guy liked me back.
Sigh.
I wish I could go back to that silly girl, put my hands on her shoulders, look into her eyes, and say, “Stop. Please.”
Thankfully, in college, things changed. I met this really awesome girl. She taught me the art of being pursued. And I’m not talking about hard-to-get. I’m talking about old-fashioned romance. Where the man courts the girl. Where the man takes the initiative. Where the man has to work a little.
It was right around this time that a very cute guy dropped into my world. I decided to take a page out of my friend’s book.
On our first date, we talked about silly things. Like if we believed in ghosts. Random, I know. When the date ended, I refused to ask if I’d see him again. I said goodbye. He said goodbye. I really liked him. But I had no idea if he really liked me.
Until he called the next day. To ask me on another date. Any insecurity I might have felt. Any confusion over whether he liked me or not. Disappeared. Because he was the one calling me. He was the one asking me out. I don’t think I finally called him until our fifth or sixth date.
And guess what?
I’ve been married to my cute guy for a little over seven years.
Despite today’s culture, where it’s just as acceptable for a woman to ask for a guy’s digits, I still stand by my old-fashioned claim. Let the man do the pursuing. In both fiction and real life. If for no other reason than it’s incredibly romantic.
Let’s Talk: What are your thoughts? Do you think the man should do the pursuing? When it comes to novels and movies, do you feel the same way? If you’re married – what’s your story? Who did the pursuing?
I’m over at Deana Barnhart’s blog today doing an interview. I’d love for you to stop by if you get a chance!