Now that my finances were in order, I wanted to get back out
into the dating scene. Time to put my effort into chasing girls instead of
chasing material goods I thought to myself. Jesus had helped with that anyway
and with a better budget, I had the freedom to spend it on women. I had
recently broken up from a long-term relationship and I did not plan on anything
serious. The emptiness and loneliness without having someone else beside me
clouded my thoughts.
I soon realized that the Christian values did not help me
very much in my quest to find and date women. This negative aspect alone caused
me to doubt myself on why I had let Jesus move in, in the first place. Women
seemed drawn to me just by treating them like I didn’t care. Had I known this
earlier, I would have been the perfect relationship guru in town. Though, as
they say, it is better late than never when it comes to being every woman’s
dream. Or at least, that’s how I pictured myself as.
There was one main hurdle that I had to overcome. This came
about when I tried to bring a girl to my house. Having to let them know I had a
“roommate” didn’t quite go over so well. I played it off well, usually, but
sometimes the night didn’t go as I had planned. Jesus seemed to have this
solemn look on his face that didn’t quite sit well with me. The girls would
feel superstitious as if I had a dad that kept an eye on me and what I did. So my plan was to circumvent this issue
altogether.
My house had this back entrance that would lead to a small
room right next to my bedroom. The look that Jesus would give me, avoiding the
front entrance seemed like the smartest thing to do. Besides, I normally came
home late at night anyway, why bother Jesus? I did not want a hindrance for the
life I wanted to live.
By using the back door, it was a win/win situation for me. I
would not feel uncomfortable by the look Jesus gave me, I did not have to
explain why I had a roommate, and by the time she left in the morning, she
wouldn’t know any better nor would Jesus get in my way. This whole issue had
been easily resolved, or at least this is what I believed. Yet, for some reason,
it didn’t quite seem like I was doing the right thing. I shook the thoughts
from my head as soon as they appeared.
I wanted the women that I slept with to fill the void that
the last girl had left vacant. Instead, every morning I felt worse than I had
the day before. The temporary happiness and love from the prior night did not
heal me. It only felt as if the scab had been ripped off and the wound grew worse
the following day. As the weekends continued and the women came and went, I fell
further into a pit of despair. Why were these women not the answer I had hoped
they would be?
It became a viscous cycle that dragged me further down, just
like a drug that never satisfied. I did not come out feeling that I was cured,
rather that the medication was not strong enough. Maybe, I thought, I was not
experiencing enough? So I started to treat the women worse than I did before,
thinking that adding something new would help medicate me. The thing is, I
wanted to cure me, to fix me and the void in my heart. The means for how I got
there or who I used should not matter. Yet, the new prescription I gave myself only
added to the emptiness in my heart.
It was during one of these mornings where I finally decided
to ask Jesus why I felt the way that I did. He pointed to the Bible, but I scoffed
at him. “The view of relationships in the Bible is outdated,” I said, “how
could it know any better in this day and age? Sex is just a physical thing and
it doesn’t affect you.”
Jesus replied. “Then why do you feel the way that you do?”
I began to make a retort, but stopped myself. Why did the depression
and despair I felt grow worse after? I was seeking to fill a hole in my heart with
any woman I could find who showed interest in me. Deep down I knew this but I had
been blinded to it because of my physical desires.
Jesus wasn’t done with me. If coming to the realization that
I was using women to medicate myself wasn’t bad enough, he had to finish me,
just like the old Mortal Kombat games I played as a kid. So the dagger came,
the words that I could not forget even to this day. Jesus said, “Do you not
see, do you not understand? You are hurting me.” He paused and with a sadness
in his eyes and continued, “They are my daughters whom I love.”
The words tore through me like a butter knife through melted
butter.
I never realized the choices I had made, never understood
the consequences of my actions. I had looked at women as an object to be
worshiped, to be used and thrown to the side. My selfishness refused to see
beyond my own pain and into the heart of another. If they are his daughters I thought…should
they not be seen as my sisters?
The thought of my actions, the way I had treated all these
women flooded through my mind. I couldn’t look Jesus in the eye, I felt
unclean, evil, and dirty. All it took was a few words and my entire worldview shattered
before me.
I started to remember what the women I was sleeping with had
told me. One had come from a recently broken relationship and was seeking the
same thing I had. I looked past this only because what I cared about more was
her body, not her soul. She had left without a word the next day. Another had
told me that she was sexually abused as a kid and had looked for someone to
help heal her heart. I had looked past this pain because of my inability to see
beyond my own short-term desires.
The pain and hurt that was in the world around me was real.
I, just like everyone else, thought sex was a way to fill a void in the heart. That
the passions of the flesh was just physical. I knew this could not be true
anymore, not after what I had gone through and the words of Jesus which cut
into my soul.
I slowly took the key to my bedroom and gave it to Jesus. It
would take time for me to heal from this pain and grow, but one thing I knew, I
couldn’t view the women I was with or the relationships I had the same way as
before. My willingness to let Jesus hold me accountable while I was dating a
girl was a beginning, I knew. Maybe, I thought, I should hold off until the
right time to do so.
The road would not be an easy one, and I was glad that I still
had one place of solace left to go. The last key burned in my pocket, begging
me to follow its call.
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