A Joke Comes Into Reality - The Prearranged Marriage

Sometimes I will kid my friends that I’m a supporter of pre-arranged marriages. The joke typically is grounded in my lack of dating skills and my inability to find someone who will stick with the big guy for more than a month.

The joke often has some justifications for this belief, primarily rooted around the thought of a pre-arranged marriage just seems easier than the dating chase. It’s not something I would feel comfortable with, honestly, but something I joke about nonetheless after another poor dating choice or streak of duds.

You can imagine my surprise then when I found this article where the author writes how pre-arranged marriages are “coming back into style.” These marriages are not the typical ones where there is some money or property traded in exchange for the rights to marry ones daughter. Instead, potential mates are allowing their parents or someone else do the searching for them.

Marian Salzman, author of Next: Trends for the Near Future explains it this way:

“This is about picking a marriage partner — not about falling into bed for a world-class romance. There is a newfound interest in letting someone else solve the love dilemma,” she explained. “We’re on option overload, and we’re maxed out in terms of time, and we’d all love a partner. So it makes sense to enlist those who know us best to forge a proper and satisfying match.”

According to the article, the parents meet the potential partner in some controlled envrionments and then if there is an interest the other partner, I would presume, comes into the equation.

This sounds like a super-hyper blind date.

I’m not sure how I would feel about my mom picking my future wife. The thought scares me a little bit. If my grandparents were doing the picking, well my luck may be a little better, but I’m still scared.

What if I let Chuck Woolery do it for me? We could bring the Love Connection back for that, right?

The Pandemic Flu and the Church

Today, my company offered an interesting lunch discussion on the possibilities of a pandemic flu outbreak in the coming years. According to the speaker, it’s no longer a question of if but when the country will face a pandemic flu outbreak.

One of the topics that sparked my interest was the role faith organization - that’s code word for the church - will play during a pandemic flu. There are the obvious forms of providing emotional care to the sick and to workers who are dealing with so much sickness and death. But there are the “social distancing” aspects that the church may have to be involved in, such as closing worship services when the community-at-large is asked to stay home during an outbreak.

The question is during an outbreak what should the role of the church be, especially as it relates to not holding worship services. And also is the church really prepared for a role in helping to inform and to promote healthy living conditions in the case of an outbreak?

Transitioning in New Journeys

Change is very stressful. You’re moving from the comfortable into the unknown, altering what has been common place among your life (regardless of the change) and bringing on something that offsets that since of normalcy.

Transitioning is the same way, at least it is for me. It brings on some additional stress and stress and me, well, we’re not the best of friends.

The transitioning that I’ve been going through is in large part a being overwhelmed with moving from the world of journalism/public policy to a life in ministry, from the awkwardness of possibly training my replacement to going back to school. In August, I leave the comfortable (North Carolina) to head to the unknown (seminary).

Now, first, I can’t wait to go. I’m excited about what God has been doing in my life and where I’ve been and where I’m going. The thought of being able to proclaim the word of God and help to build relationships in others inspires me each day. The part that scares me is the saying good-bye, man that sounds like a bad country music lyric.

Partly that reason is the community of family (I would say friends but they’ve been more than that to me) that I have here. In every corner and avenue of my life, leaving has meant goodbye.

A friend once told me that it’s not goodbye but being sent off to do God’s work.

There are some good things to this change. I’m excited about the opportunities that will meet me in Kentucky, the new community of friends who will be there for me, and the short drive to Cincinnati to watch WVU play the Bearcats in November. (What, you thought I was going to abandon WVU football?)

Then, I’m excited about learning more about this calling I’ve felt for awhile, more about Christ’s teaching, and learning how to minister to a world that is need of Christ’s love.

I can’t wait to go, there is just about 10 to 20 people I wish I could take with me.

So, I feel stupid

Last night, I spent my evening at work, church, and the emergency room.  In that order.

It was a late night at the office, with committee meetings ending after the 5 O’clock whistle had blown for the afternoon. That caused a rush to get home to cook before church.

Made it, but that was only part of the fun. The remainder was the rest of the evening. Chest pains somewhere between Come Thou Font of Every Blessing and reading of Acts 2, causing some high-pitched breathing and some sweating. My apologies to those sitting near me who saw the man sweat.

So, I left during the service. For those who don’t know me, getting me to the doctor has to take an act of Congress, and Greg snoring in my ear.  I had neither this time, just the fear of a heart attack.

After some cold hands, tons of chest hair removing stickers, and two doctor reports, there is no heart attack. You can now do the Homer Simpson woo hoo or the Ric Flair woooo, both are appropriate.

Turns out it was an inflammation of my chest. You see, yesterday at the gym I overdid the workout and went too hard on the rowing machine, an exercise I hadn’t done in well years. The overextension caused the chest pains, which were sharp enough to make me tap out and head off to the ER for my yearly visit with the fine folks at UNC Hospital.

My job is get some rest - easier said than done with crossover deadline Thursday - and not to lift anything heavier than 5 pounds - there goes that 5-pound thickburger from Hardee’s. Thanks to those at church yesterday who called, or even visited the big guy in the hospital. I appreciate it.

Should we wonder about new divorce statistics?

New information has recently been released that indicate that the divorce race in the United State is at its lowest point since 1970.

That should be cause for celebration, since we have heard for years that the nation faces a problem with divorce. According to the study, 3.6 people for every 1,000 were divorced. That rate reached its highest levels in 1981 when 5.3 per 1,000 were divorced, during a period of time in which no-fault divorce laws were being enacted, making it easier to get a divorce in many states.

But is this really cause for celebration? Yes, divorce is down in the country and as a divorced male that in itself is a cause for celebration. However, as with any statistic you have to look inside the numbers to see what is really going on, to get a better sense of the true landscape of marriage and divorce.

Here is where we see a reason not for celebration, but for concern.

Since the 1960s, the number of unmarried couples living together has increased by substantial amounts. Also, the percentage of marriages in the United States
has dropped by nearly 30 percent in the last 25 years.

I believe you can take two lines or arguments to this.

The first is that the decrease in marriage is a concern because of children. As the Heritage Foundation’s Patrick Fagan points out, instability in a relationship could hurt the child. Of course, a bad marriage also can hurt the child.

The other argument is that marriage is a relationship covenant created by God to join man and woman together. In that regard, marriage is a religious institution and should be left as such.

Ultimately the issue boils down to two people realizing that a marriage is difficult and hard, but full of rewards. But, there is no magic theory on how to have a successful marriage. It’s all about communication, trust, love, honesty, and enjoyment.

Marriage is a religious institution, one I wish the government would not be involved in. I’m concerned about people leaving in cohabitation for long periods of time, because I fear it ruins the sanctity of the marriage, leaving too much room for temptation, and devalues the importance of marriage.

So celebrate the divorce rate being at its lowest point in decades, but be concerned for the entire picture.

Registration complete

Just a few minutes ago, I finished my registration for Asbury, which all but means it’s a done deal. I’m taking 12 courses my first semester, which my adviser said could be a lot, but we’ll play it by ear. The courses I’m taking are:

Church History I

Christian Formation: Kingdom, Church, and World

Introduction to the New Testament

and an in-depth course on Matthew

But this whole registration process has been kind of weird for me. It’s all online. Now, I’ve ordered pizzas online. I pay my bills online. I get horrible directions from Mapquest online. But, registering for classes online that was a new one for me.

When I was in college, we used the old phone dial system, which created more aggravation than trying to make sense of your Geology II professor.

The only thing that I need now is a job to pay for rent, food, my truck payment, computer, gas and current student loans. Oh, and a place to stay.

Weird dreams, Weird morning, Just Weird

So, this has been one of the mornings that I felt like I needed to share, only because I like to be like an open book. Perhaps more like a Dr. Seus book than say War and Peace, but an open book all the same.

First, a precursor to the story. I battle bouts of anxiety, primarily because I’m a little hard on myself. O.K. Maybe not a little. I’m really hard on myself. I expect to be judged more than others. I expect others to look down on me for the smallest thing, so it creates an anxiety within me that leads to intrusive thoughts, primarily around my faith (because as someone told me, the thoughts will grab hold to whatever will get my attention and negative thoughts that I don’t believe about my faith certainly will). I’ve been doing a lot better, but it is a struggle none the same that I seek help and prayers with. The thoughts, by the way, occur when I’m alone, stressed, or even when praying.

So onto the day that has been, and yes I realize that it is only 9 a.m.

I woke up last night really early, bad dream, couldn’t sleep. You wouldn’t either with the dream I had. Not to get into the whole thing, but let’s say it involved a church, a fight where I wasn’t involved, but standing in the background doing nothing about it while someone else did.

Well, I began to try to figure out what the dream meant, half awake and barely thinking, which created some anxiety and bad thoughts. I tried reading some things to “reassure” me, but it only made the thoughts worse, not better. Some of the thoughts were the from the absurd to the near damning and when the thoughts happen - even though I can’t control them - I get frightened, scared, and ultimately hard on myself.

I know I’ve not committed any sin. These thoughts are just words, not feelings, emotions or anything with any truth behind them. Yet, they scare me, as they would anyone.

What’s funny is that through this, God reminded me how much He loves me.  A friend of mine sent me a note saying how much I meant to her over the past four years. She’s getting ready to graduate from UNC-Chapel Hill. It was there that I was reminded of something I talked about Sunday with the youth that even in our darkest moments God can do some amazing things of healing and transformation, if we let Him.

I think I need to live into that some more.

From a tired mind

This has been one of those weekends where there was a lot of running around and seemingly no breaks of rest and relaxation. It was a good weekend, though I could certainly take a day off tomorrow to recover from the weekend.

Maybe, that’s why Mark Chesnutt sang the song “It Sure is Monday.” Guaranteed, in the morning I’m going to be chugging down (in my case Diet Coke) when I should’ve been sleeping.

I’ve come to the realization lately that I’m an even bigger short-timer than what I really understood. Think about it. In four months, pretty much from today, I’ll be packed up and heading to the Land of No McDonald’s otherwise known as Wilmore, Ky., population 3. We’re not counting the college and the seminary in the town’s population.

That’s not a lot of time. In those four months, I have to find a job, find a place to live, find a church, register for classes, find some extra money, close out my job, buy a computer, figure out good excuses to not babysit my newly-born (as of Monday) cousin, and oh I don’t know clean my room here. That’s a lot for four months, while also wanting to remain in the life that I have now.

I think that’s the funny thing about transition. We’re living in two different worlds. On one side, we want to be preparing for the new challenges and journey that lies ahead. On the other, we want to hold tight to what we know, and where we are comfortable. We have our routine and we don’t want to break it apart.

Finding a delicate balance in dealing with this transition has been difficult. In some days, I’ve managed it as best as you can. In others, I’m overwhelmed by the tasks ahead.

Today, right now, I’m in between. In between land is a good place to be, I think. I’m managing, but I know the task is daunting.

Something tells me that is probably a good metaphor for my future journey in life. But, that’s another time for another blog. Regardless, I’m going to enjoy these final few months, here in this place that means so much to me. (That is a lesson I’ve needed to learn for about the last year.)

A chance to come together as one

Community is important, so I promote this event with the hope of coming together as one community.

Friday, supporters and alumni of Virginia Tech are promoting Orange and Maroon Effect Day as a way for the nation to mourn the victims of the Monday’s massacre.  Traditionally, Orange and Maroon Effect has been a way to promote Hokie spirit before athletics contests. Friday it will be as a chance for the entire nation to come together as one.

So Friday, I encourage everyone - regardless if you are a Mountaineer, a Tar Heel, a Wolfpack, or even a Thunder - to wear orange and red to work, school, or wherever on Friday to show support and love to those hurting in Blacksburg, Va.

Welcome back to college

Today, I did something that I don’t do enough. I took a “mental health appreciation day.” In other words, I used the opportunity to work from home.

While, I was able to get a good bit of work accomplished - checked emails, did some editing, updated some things - most of my day also spent looking at course schedules for the fall. I forgot how pains-taking annoying this process was during undergraduate. There are too many things you have to take into account - class time, professor, subject, graduation requirements, work, and study times.

At WVU, I always took morning classes, even if it meant always having class at 8 a.m. I was perfectly fine with an early morning class, if it meant having the afternoon to myself to study, work, or do whatever. I’m leaning towards the same with seminary, however there is an added twist - I’d like to have no class or at least an evening class on Mondays, that way if I go out of town for the weekend I have extra time to return. And of course I can work.

Now the one thing WVU did to help me was to provide a recommended four-year schedule of courses. I followed that thing as if it was made by Rand McNally, with only a few alterations. It worked. I can’t seem to find the same thing for seminary, so I’m looking at the required courses doing the “do what.”

Trying to figure out this schedule thing is like trying to figure out why Major League Baseball scheduled home games in northern cities.  Bad joke on this blog No. 43,431.