As a youth pastor, I’ve talked with countless young couples that want to know what God has to say about relationships. Although they humor my rants about commitment and transparency, they really want to know how close they can get to having sex without having God strike them dead. I don’t blame them. I wanted to know the same thing. “How far is too far?”
Having been raised in the church, I’d heard all the answers, or opinions anyway. “You shouldn’t make out. It’s like having sex in the mouth.” “Don’t hold hands until your honeymoon.” “Butterfly kisses make babies.” I found an ironic correlation: Those with presently extreme views tend to have had extreme failures in the past. Perhaps it was a type of compensation, but it also may have been the wisdom of those with a greater appreciation for the potential dangers. Either way, with everyone’s standards set at various heights, I decided to prompt these excitable singles in a different direction: What if we were to stop asking, “How much can we spend?” and start asking, “How much can we save?”
The money analogy
Money has always held a special place in my heart, even as a kid. I remember one day my parents brought me to a ghetto Burger King that housed a cheap imitation of a Play Place. It was comprised of little more than a static-inducing slide and a pool of colorful plastic balls. The entire unit smelled of children having too much fun to visit the bathroom. Despite my better judgment, I got to work. While other kids spent their twenty minutes jumping, rolling and giggling with delight, I scoured the floor of the pit for loose change. Though I can’t remember how much I found that day, it wasn’t out of the ordinary for me to find five to ten dollars per visit.
Not only was I strange (I mean opportunistic), I was also a saver. I could easily save a hundred dollars without buying a single G.I. Joe. It wasn’t that I didn’t want G.I.Joes, it was just that I valued the idea of something greater even though I wasn’t yet sure what that might be. Saving money just made sense to me. I enjoyed the security it provided, the potential is possessed, and the promise it predicts. It wasn’t a rule that I submitted to but rather one that I subscribed to.
How will this perception change your new marriage?
I believe the economic illustration plays out well. Much like my saving tendencies as a kid, I see the value in saving our sexuality for the one we will marry. It’s not that we won’t want to partake in immediate gratification, it’s that we should value the idea of something greater even though we’re not yet sure what that might be. Saving just makes sense. We can enjoy the security it provides, the potential it possesses and the promise it predicts. It ought to be not only a rule that we submit to, but one that we subscribe to.
I’ll never forget, I was with my Dad in the electronics aisle at Walmart and had finally set my heart on an item that I deemed worthy of my savings. Something that would justify the countless hours spent below the plastic ball surface sifting through used chapstick and aged french fries. It was the CD player of all CD players and portable to boot. It came complete with a wired remote control, cassette player adapter, and a backlit screen. Yes, this was my treasure. The cashier and I exchanged pleasantries and products and I was out the door without regret. That day has obviously marked me. My friends all received CD players for Christmas, but none loved theirs as much as I loved mine. I’m convinced that the reason that purchase meant so much to me was because I had worked so hard and waited for so long.
I wasn’t nervous all morning until the moment I saw her at the back of the chapel. It was my wedding day. I had finally set my heart on someone that I deemed worthy of my savings. Someone that would justify the countless trials endured and temptations resisted. Her name is Melissa. Yes, this was my treasure. Her father and I exchanged responsibilities and I was out the door without regret. That day has obviously marked me. My friends have had intimacy with their own partners, but none love theirs as much as I love mine. I’m convinced that the reason that she means so much to me is because I had worked so hard and waited for so long.
None love theirs as much as I love mine.”
What if we were to stop asking, “How much can we spend?” and start asking, “How much can we save?”
