Sarah and I were up chatting for 4 hours into Saturday morning, after which I drove home in a half daze, half adrenaline fuelled crze (hey it rhymes!). We were talking about B-O-Y-S becoming M-E-N. Despite the lack of one letter in the final sequence, we more or less deduced that they didn't lack anything innately due to a mere technicality in spelling. The male-ridden thought process in my head had been churning and analysing since the early hours of the evening when one of my brother's friends, asked me if I had a boyfriend. Not that I mind saying, "No" but the boy's 10. When I was 10, I was more concerned about elephants being poached in the world rather than if my friend's sister/ brother was next in line to throw a few red packets (money in red wallets of paper that only married people give out) to feed my piggy bank. Part of me felt the bairn insolent for addressing me with such a question but then I sighed as I realised kids 'now-a-days' grow up SO much faster than we did in my time. They are generally taller, bigger (scarier) and use I-pods and camera phones the way I used to work a giant pencil sharpener. It's not that I mind the question but if I knew the answer to the bigger question of when, where, who and how, I probably wouldn't mind as much. If I knew for certain that the only knot I would be tying was for mountain climbing, I would admit it in a shot with impish glee, especially to well-meaning people would might otherwise think that yet another life has gone to waste down the celibacy chute. I guess I don't really want questions asked that have answers I don't yet have. It's the being in limbo (almost), the will I or won't I that agitates me because I'm the kind of person who likes to know where she's going, what time she'll get there and whether they serve hash browns all day. Hopefully I'll stumble through this era relatively unscathed and when I reach 30, fingers crossed, I'll be elderly enough to stop being asked questions to which I have no answers, namely girl-boy-relationship related ones.
I know I want to do mission work. I know that if I had to choose between getting married with 2.5 kids or going on a 15-year mission trip to Timbuktu with no running water, I would choose the latter. I'm not against getting married. If Mr Husband was also called to Timbuktu and due to poor contraception avoidance tactics, we end up having 9 children, all within a year of each other, that would be comical and my call would then be to my husband and children with other ministries beside, but if I had to choose either or, I know that world mission would always come first. I know that if that decision comes, it will not be an easy one to make. Afterall, spending a certain amount of exclusive time with the opposite sex naturally sets up emotional roots which will have to be uprooted should a relationship turn out to be, not necessarily unbiblical, but insufficient; insufficient in giving God the glory He rightly deserves, above earthly intuition, above earthly desires, above earthly loves. A lot of people say and believe that security is important and that for me as a woman, my security should lie in either wealth or a husband who can provide. I defy those opinions with the same fiery possessiveness I have over my relationship with Christ; my identity is in Him and Him alone. Money and safety are pitiable idols if my feet are not firmly planted and watered in God's Word. I understand concerns about needing money in this world; as a missionary the pension fund is somewhat limited and as for safety, well, as hazardous as the world is to walk through, how much more safe can I be in the hands of the God of the heavens, earth and seas, everything in them, under them, over them, past, present and future, allowing them to live and sustaining them to perform even the simplest of tasks such as producing the most miniscule amount of energy (mytochondria) or contracting and expanding by way of moving (paramecium and others)? Do I feel threatened by this world? Many times. Do I feel mauled by images from television and movies causing havoc with my mind? Yes, I do. Do I feel like I can barely sustain myself physically or materially, let alone provide for a family? Yes. But at the end of all that doom and gloom, my Saviour awaits and His arms are open and I am straining to finish this race to be with Him. I can't wait to cross the line and jump into eternity, flying free. It doesn't automatically solve the problems now but it does give me something to purposefully aim for. It's hardly idealistic; reality hits hard where it hurts the most, Christian or not, but the true reality of being hidden in Christ surpasses all my worries and even though they niggle at me and I still try get to college on time and pay my rent and plan my future, I do so with the assurance that it will not be futile. It will not be in vain.
What I said before about being in limbo... I am in the position to make decisions that will impact the rest of my life. I could, if the opportunity arose, say yes and possibly be on my way to an automatic Vios and maybe in time a metallic forest green Mercedes SLK-230 with dark grey upholstery and power steering. Or I could say no and have a 4x4 BMW Z series :p But probably, until such a time arises, I don't have to worry about my answer and focus more on now.