Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1

Two young Christians exploring love and passion.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.

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I sit naked in an overstuffed leather armchair absorbing my
surreal surroundings.

The remnant scents of crushed rose petals and last night's
love making fill my nostrils while the gentle glow of dawn filters through
leaded glass windows and sheer drapery. Gold-leaf picture frames and an antique
clock face give off a slight radiance that contrast against the historic
mansion's otherwise dark furnishings and wood paneling. Of everything in the
room, the object most strikingly highlighted by the soft illumination is
Emily's smooth alabaster leg extending from underneath the king size bed's dark
duvet cover. The room is silent except for faint, deep breaths of slumber
emanating from beneath the duvet.

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While my senses are filled by the early morning experience,
treasured memories of the journey to this moment float through my head.

My childhood.

God has been good to me. I was raised in a very loving home
by two wonderful parents, both faithful Believers who raised their two sons to
be Godly young men. My mom worked as an elementary schoolteacher but spent most
of her free time spearheading our church's county-wide food pantry ministry.
Dad was a jack-of-all-trades who probably had 20 different jobs over his
working career, not because he wasn't good at the jobs, but because he was a
very inquisitive person and became quickly bored with each pursuit. We weren't
monetarily wealthy by any definition, but we were a solid working-class family
and our basic day-to-day needs were met.

There were a few local main street businesses that were the
economic and social hubs for our small Midwest farming community. Linda's Diner
was the only restaurant in our one-flashing-light town, and was where the
retired crowd started their morning with coffee and gossip. Following
breakfast, the older men moved to the John Deere dealership where they spent the
morning drinking more coffee and lamenting that "they don't make tractors
like they used to." Meanwhile, the older women went to Clancy Drugs, which
was actually more of a "five and dime" store that had a small
pharmacy. The owner, Oscar Clancy, had set up an area with armchairs, a couple
sofas, and a coffee table where the women would knit and crotchet while they
gossiped.

Two other local landmarks were the towering white steeple of
the First Congregational Church, and the two-story brick Burkee Hardware
building, owned by John and Bonnie Burkee. Both were welcome visual contrasts
to flat horizons filled with endless cornfields, and both had transformational
roles in my life.

The Burkee's attended First Congregational Church, as did
nearly everyone in town, and were long-time friends with my parents. Mrs.
Burkee often helped my mom with the church food pantry and my dad was a
frequently found at the hardware store 'shooting-the-breeze' with Mr. Burkee.
Nearly every Friday night, the two couples could be found playing Euchre at
their house or ours.

Mr. Burkee knew money was always tight for my parents and,
when I was a Freshman in high school, suggested I help out at the hardware
store on Saturdays. I readily accepted and he put me to work with basic tasks like
loading customers' cars, sweeping floors, and taking out trash. Since I was
only 14 at the time, Mrs. Burkee would pay me in cash at the end of each
Saturday and usually send me home with a plate of cookies or some other treat
for my family. As a couple without children of their own, I felt a bit like the
son they never had.

The hardware store was a natural fit for me. My family
didn't have money to buy new things or hire repair technicians when something
broke, so dad always fixed everything himself. He had a mechanical mind and was
innovative with cost efficient solutions and repairs. I was always eager to
watch him as a young child, and to participate in the repairs as I grew older.
As grew into a young adult, my mind began to work like his, inquisitive and
mechanical, and that translated into a lot of practical knowledge that was
helpful at the hardware store.

After a few months, Mr. Burkee asked if I would want to help
stock shelves on weekdays after school. He gave a stern warning that I needed
to keep my schoolwork and grades in order. School was to be my number one
priority and if I didn't abide by that, working afternoons at the hardware
store would end. He had no reason to worry and I eagerly accepted his offer.
School came easy to me and I carried straight A's without much effort.

What didn't come easy to me was social ease. I was a very
introverted person and found social interactions awkward at best. I had a
couple good buddies and did marginally well holding conversations with adults,
but would stumble epically when even saying "hi" to a teenage girl.

When I turned 16, Mr. and Mrs. Burkee promoted me to be a
legitimate, on-the-books employee at Burkee Hardware and had me start
interacting more with customers. I helped them find items in the store,
answered general questions, and sometimes helped brainstorm on their projects.
Mrs. Burkee taught me how to use the cash register and record store credit
purchases for customers that were billed monthly.

I didn't recognize it until years later, but the trust Mr.
and Mrs. Burkee gave me in those early years allowed me to find trust in
myself. I was confident in my knowledge and that gave me courage in my
interactions with customers. That also spread to other aspects of my life and I
found it easier to have more meaningful conversations with friends or adults at
church.

Girls were still a different story. I had zero confidence in
that area and remained painfully awkward to the point of social paralysis. It
was as if I was on the outside of a glass bubble looking into the real world.
There were a few girls at school and at church that I found attractive and
interesting, but I lacked the ability to break through that glass wall.

Accepting failure in that part of my life, I poured my
energies into school, church activities, and the hardware store. I became more
involved at church where I took on a bigger role in helping my mom with the
food pantry, joined a Wednesday evening Bible Study group, and grew much deeper
in my personal relationship with God. Those things certainly didn't solve my
awkwardness with girls, but they at least kept my mind from constantly dwelling
on the subject.

Becoming a Man.

By the time my Senior year arrived, I was a well engrained
fixture at church and the hardware store. The Burkee's trusted me implicitly
and often left me to run the store or lock up at night when they had other
commitments. Over the Christmas and New Year's holidays, they even took their
first vacation in 20-years, a 10-day Caribbean cruise, and left me to manage
the store.

During that year, I began to think about life after high
school. The hardware store was very comfortable for me and I loved every minute
of it, but I also knew it would be difficult to support myself, and hopefully a
future family, on a store clerk's wages.

My mechanical mind dreamed of an engineering degree and a
career designing complex industrial innovations. The spiritual side of me
dreamed of a life in ministry leading people to Jesus, though that wasn't
exactly a high-paying appointment either. The problem with both options was
money.

My parents had managed to squirrel away a very small college
fund over the years but, in reality, the vast majority of college expenses
would need to be covered by scholarships and loans. Understanding the potential
magnitude of college debt made a non-degreed life at the hardware store look
more and more attractive.

Mrs. Burkee had taken a keen interest in what I intended to
do after graduation and there were occasional slow evenings at the hardware
store when she would sit and listen to all the conflicting thoughts rattling
around in my head. Every time she would give the same advice, to keep my
options open, pursue all opportunities until a decision became clear, and keep
praying for God's guidance.

I took her advice to heart and explored various community
colleges and universities, both those with engineering programs and those with
ministry fields. I found a few Christian colleges that had well regarded
engineering programs, which would give me the perfect opportunity to pursue
both of my dreams simultaneously. However, the schools were private and their
tuitions rates were astronomical.

My "top-pick" school, Powell College, was located
in a small town of the same name and was especially pricey. Mrs. Burkee
continued her previous advice and insisted I apply to as many schools as
possible to keep my options open. She backed up her determination by insisting
that she and Mr. Burkee pay for all the application fees. How could I argue
with that?

Meanwhile, graduation was a couple months away and the
entire town was abuzz about the upcoming Senior Prom. I had never attended a
school dance and had no intention of attending Senior Prom.

My mom disagreed, arguing it was a rite-of-passage and that
I would regret it for