"Love", or Something Like It

Genesis 1:27 (New International Version)

²⁷ So God created man in his own image,
in the image of God he created him;
male and female he created them.

This is for every girl who writes about finding the "perfect guy". This seemingly elusive creature likes long walks, kissing you on your forehead and (gasp) cares about you! Well, that sounds simple enough, we normal guys may say. Where can we apply?

We wait in the foyer of the lonely hearts, checking our watch and wonder after seven hours why our names haven't been called for an interview. After twiddling our thumbs down to bare nubs, we sigh as guys looking like GQ incarnate continue to strut pridefully out the door, each making derogatory remarks about female anatomy. Surely a respectful man could never measure up to that. So woefully, each of us walk away, knowing that regardless of their prepubescent irreverence, GQ always wins.

Because if most of you were honest, your requirements for the "perfect man" have much more to do with aesthetics and much less to do with romance, or even love. Your facebook postings about moonlit walks and respect aside, it looks more like:

1. Has a six-pack
2. Is so so hot
   
3. Looks good in V-necks
4. 7-feet tall
5. Is Taylor Lautner
   
6. Has a six-pack
7. cocky
8. Has a six-pack
9. Listens to every band I like
10. Good kisser
    
11. Is nice to me
12. Has a six-pack
13. likes long walks
14. kisses me on the forehead
15. Has a six-pack
16. Has a six-pack
17. Has a four-pack
    
18. Loves God (optional)
19. Treats me with respect (if he feels like it; no biggie)
    

There we go. That's more like it. This is why the "perfect man" is so easy to find. He sleeps around. He doesn't pay child support. He hits you. He flirts with every girl he sees. He uses you. He degrades you. He won't go to church with you, but he has a six-pack and and a nice tan, so everything evens out.

Well, at least we meet two or three of those requirements (even more if you count the optional ones). Still, it's all or nothing in this "love" business, and if your abs don't rival The Situation, you're out of the running. Love, and the search for Mr. Right have been perverted into a glamorized Flava of Love. The guys you want hurt you and the ones who won't, you don't want them.

There are some of us who actually know how to love, but our physical imperfections prevent you from ever noticing. I own my imperfections. God made me this way. I'm not going to pretend my ears aren't big, or that I don't look like everyone's little brother. It's just how I was made, and when God sends me the woman of His choosing, she will understand that just as much as I.

P.S. The real "perfect man" for you is not a myth, ladies; your definition is, and your means of finding him is a joke.

P.P.S. For those women who actually waited on God's timing, I commend you!

Sharing a Beer in Heaven, Among Other Myths

"We need to look up, where he is undoubtedly perched on a crescent moon, and we need to smile."

This is a quote from Brooke Shields, delivering a eulogy for her late friend, Michael Jackson, at his service in L.A. yesterday. You can see her tearfully recite the above quote, and she does it with so much conviction that I am almost hurt for her loss...until I take a moment to digest those final words, scratch my head bemusedly, and cringe at the mental image of Jackson spending his eternal nights watching us all from the sky. This is, however, one of the countlessly liberal interpretations of heaven.

It is common for people of a particular crowd to, when lamenting the recent death of a friend, rejoice in the idea that one day, they will share a beer in heaven (or a vintage Merlot, for those of a different class). As funny as that may sound, doesn't it also sound to you, believers, like a gross perversion of God's promise, and when did heaven start allowing guests to write what they want on comment cards? We are living in a world so in love with pleasure that even heaven is romanticized and reduced to a first-class luxury resort in the sky.

At the beginning of the third chapter of Galatians, Paul says:

"O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you that you should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ was clearly portrayed among you as crucified?"

I'm not here to make any assumptions about Michael Jackson's eternal fate. What concerns me more than anything is the confusion about heaven that overshadows the truth. It seems in Hollywood, and everywhere else in the land of Pop-Psychologia, that life is for living up; eternity is for the dead. Just like the Galatians before us were bewitched by dangerous legalism, we are captivated by a scintillating world in which we naively assume our actions at night will never reflect upon our days. In a world without consequence, heaven, is effortlessly attained, and I can eat all the caramel apple swirl cheesecake I want and, for that matter, never toil over the risk of morbid obesity.

By assuming that heaven is the place for all who die, we must assume that Christ's death on Calvary was an inconsequential thing, for why would we need blessed assurance if assurance is guaranteed to anyone? As a believer, I know that anything that tries to dim the light of the Savior's sacrifice is of Satan, whether or not it is intentional. There is no shortcut and there is no bypass that will lead you to the throne of God.

The reality is this: heaven is reserved for followers, those who have been washed in the blood and born again. There is no easy button, because salvation is easy enough, yet not so simple that we can hell-raise all our years without repentance and then expect to don the white robes of eternity. This is not the Titanic: There are enough lifeboats for every passenger, but not every passenger will choose to board a lifeboat.