Olive skin, shoulder-length hair, well-kept beard.
Confusion Looms Around Release Date For Kanye West's "Jesus Is King" Album
Never judges, loves unconditionally, able to read your deepest thoughts. Nonsmoker, but enjoys wine on Sunday.
Choose the people you like and create affinities. Chat your way to a date.
It was an open relationship I shared my love with an estimated 2. Once, at a meeting of single, twentysomething evangelical Christians sort of like an episode of No Sex and the Cityone of my girlfriends described her romantic encounter with Jesus the night before. Actually, what this woman described is a pretty common occurrence in evangelical circles like the one I grew up in — circles where dating is rare and sexual purity is paramount.
You would find yourself alone, again, in your bedroom on a Friday night, and into your life walks this tall, dark, take-away-all-the-loneliness dude named Jesus.
Naturally, your heart starts pounding. And yet here was my mom, singing a love song not to my dad, but to Jesus.
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As I got older and even more wrapped up in the culture of evangelical Christianity, my romantic love for Jesus picked up steam. After all, as our relationships with Jesus got deeper and deeper, our standards for future IRL relationships were getting more and more out of touch with reality.
What Jesus Taught me on my Dating Fast
With each Bible study evening, our hopes and expectations were drummed up to new and feverish heights. Stuck in wifi-free missionary housing during our early 20s, my girlfriends and I would compile lists of every ethereal, desirable quality in a man — and an ominous gulf opened between expectation and reality.
What about the pool of available, eligible, Jesus-loving men who are both as outwardly attractive as Tom Hardy and virtuous enough to qualify for a halo? And now the picture of loneliness is complete.
While the typical evangelical woman smugly perceives her secular sisters as hopelessly lost in self-sabotaging Tinder trysts and doomed to marry a partner of less-than-saintly character, she herself is hopelessly stuck in the Jesus-is-my-boyfriend camp.
Yearning for a relationship and social fulfillment, but paralyzed by a tyranny of unattainable standards, she distracts herself with a pseudo-romance that she can share with her entire community.
They pray desperately for a man to come into their lives. After a decade-long domestic partnership with Jesus, I eventually cut romantic ties with my maker and started a real-life relationship with a real guy.
At first, it was exhilarating.
While Jesus held my metaphorical hand, this man held my actual hand — and told me he loved me, with a voice that was audible. He was also frustrating, though; he made a habit of misreading my thoughts, and was notably short on patience.
For me, having an actual boyfriend has meant dismantling many of the constructs I lived with for years. So while there are moments when I long for the simplicity of the just-Jesus-and-me times, bringing a third party into the relationship has, ironically, brought me closer to my maker.
Mary Murphy is the pseudonym of a writer living in the United States.