Surely I wouldn’t be so brazen as to say such needy thoughts spring to mind nearly every time I attempt to prepare a meal for myself! ;-) (I suppose the true effort goes into getting it down and keeping it down.) In cases like that, how much easier to learn it yourself, and then have something to offer another, right? But, yes, how can I deny that sometimes the little things call this to mind even more than the big reasons that I successfully keep at bay? For instance, it sure would be nice to have someone color coordinate my socks. I still can hardly tell the difference between black and dark blue, and my suspicions are high that I’m inept at other matching as well. I also wish I had help almost every time I run two loads of laundry in a time pinch, and have to tote it all between Lehi (my place) and Provo (my place of choice). (Yeah, I live in two places in order to just barely meet my social needs. What of it?) It really is funny watching me try to fold things that are longer than I am tall and lug around huge laundry bags that thump my ankles. Or staring at all the furniture I have to move for a mop job.
More shockingly, what about a simple rub once in a blue moon? No, I’m not soliciting that from anyone. The other week apparently I somehow let it drop in casual phone conversation with my mother that I hadn’t had a genuine rub in a very long time. (I almost conned a back rub out of my little nephews once, but their attention span’s too short.) Then this Monday I ended up taking time off work in anticipation of my parents arriving in town on a brief visit. I was a tad sick and achy, so I fell asleep on my sofa. I faintly heard my father calling at me to wake up, and then my mother hushing him and saying, “This is how you do it.” She proceeded to rub my feet. Yet one more in a vast multitude of reasons my heart overflows with gratitude toward my dear mother.
One prayer attributed to Elder James E. Talmage exhibits the universality—and correctness, at least in part—of these desires:
Lord, Thou knowest that I have very few acquaintances among the young women of Zion, and Thou hast full knowledge of them all. Guide me to her who is meant to be my help-meet in life. (John R. Talmage, The Talmage Story: Life of James E. Talmage—Educator, Scientist, Apostle [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1972], 68)
Now if you’ll please bear with an unusual unveiling of my own feelings, little changed over the course of six years, I promise it’ll all prove relevant to my points. From my journal entry, August 20, 2002:
I’m not seen as one of the guys in the fullest sense of the word—and I’m also not fooled by [some] people’s lame attempts to say that’s because they respect me so much above most people. If such be true, it is better to be loved than respected! A member of the bishopric for my Budge Hall ward once hugged me and said he’d always had a kind of special love for me. That apparently only extends so far in various spheres, since I stood by him at a reunion as he told someone else they should date his daughter, since she’d asked him if there were any good men in his ward. . . .
A couple of months ago I thought to myself that I was “friends with all, but close to none,” which proves strikingly similar to something President Hinckley wrote in his recent book about being friendly to all but cautious of personal association. . . .
I’m not obligated . . . to take the first person or first few people who demonstrate interest. . . . I will want to be with someone and she will want to be with me. Certainly not too much to ask! . . . But I return to my now-prudent stance. It is insufficient for me to find girls I’d like to be with, and hope. The obstacles are insurmountable. I only pray that God will send me some to choose from, and He’s fully aware of whom I could feel drawn to.
The quotation from President Hinckley?
Everybody wants friends. Everybody needs friends. No one wishes to be without them. But never lose sight of the fact that it is your friends who will lead you along the paths that you will follow. While you should be friendly with all people, select with great care those whom you wish to have close to you. They will be your safeguards in situations where you may vacillate between choices, and you in turn may save them. . . .
There they are, nine Be’s which, if observed, will bring handsome dividends to any young man or woman. . . . They will bring you friends of your own kind. They will protect you from associations that would pull you down and deflect you from your course. (Way to Be! [New York, NY: Simon & Schuster, 2002], 48, 123)
In curious ways, my abnormal height (or lack thereof) has stripped me of the initiative that is ordinarily the man’s in dating. Once, when someone challenged me to start sitting beside girls who were alone in church meetings, I startled them by countering that I’d thought about it, but it was a nicer favor for me not to put them in that awkward position. He raised his eyebrows at this, but perhaps my dear readers will believe me when I say that I could fill volumes on how I’ve activated the fight or flight response in women socially.
Anyway, along different lines, there may be a girl upset with me right now because I haven’t seized hold of her advances. I sought objectively to give her the chance that I seldom get, and have learned all that I needed to. Laughably, I recollect a girl in a long-ago ward who certainly treated me coldly for doing nothing at all other than a nicer version of what’s playing out all the time. I look on almost dispassionately, capable of saying from a deep, dark well of experience that we all get our turn(s) at rejection. I have this very odd hankering to be able to say something akin to (and pardon the blasphemy, as it’s being wrested from context), “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you” (John 15:16). And naturally I’d like fairly rapid reciprocation. :-) Once I asked a girl out and she queried, presumably in a complimentary fashion—and I do know more about our prior and subsequent interaction than you do—why I’d chosen her out of all the girls. I came home and wrote, “Because I wanted to, that’s why!”
For more spiritual thoughts on seeking companions, here’s a source which I gather from my garbled notes may also be contained in Robert K. McIntosh, How Do You Know When You're Really in Love? [Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 2000], 30-31:
Many years ago while serving as a full-time missionary, I had the privilege of meeting Elder Bruce R. McConkie. He was a new General Authority and had come to tour our mission. My companion and I were assigned to drive him from Missoula to Butte, Montana. As we talked along the way, one of us asked him, “How can we know whom we should marry?” To our surprise, his response was quick and certain.
He asked us to turn to the 88th section of the Doctrine and Covenants, 40th verse, which reads: “For intelligence cleaveth unto intelligence; wisdom receiveth wisdom; truth embraceth truth; virtue loveth virtue; light cleaveth unto light; mercy hath compassion on mercy and claimeth her own; justice continueth its course and claimeth its own; judgment goeth before the face of him who sitteth upon the throne and governeth and executeth all things.”
We showed some consternation. Elder McConkie explained to us that if we were men who loved the truth, we would be attracted to others who loved the truth. If we were men of virtue, we would attract others who were virtuous. If we loved light and justice and mercy, we would be attracted to a person who loved these qualities. He then said, “If you are men who love truth and virtue, go and find a young lady with these attributes, and then proceed to fall in love.” (L. Aldin Porter, CES Young Adult Fireside, 13 Sep 1998)
I narrowly escaped having as mother-in-law someone who did not value truth and virtue, indeed, was also impossibly unfair. She sat down with her daughter to have a long talk about what she assumed she wouldn’t have if she happened to have the misfortune of marrying me. That reminds me—um, only by slight comparison—of the battle waged against the future Elder Mark E. Petersen for other largely irrelevant circumstances over which he had no control, who was forced to wait out on the porch for his date (Peggy Petersen Barton, Mark E. Petersen: A Biography [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1985], 62). Much, much later, his mother-in-law “often, while speaking of him, . . . would say that although he was an apostle, he definitely had some improvements to make . . .” (Ibid., 93).
By contrast, I often reflect with delight on Elder McConkie’s courtship. Very early on, his future father-in-law, President Joseph Fielding Smith, became one of his greatest advocates. Amelia’s parents were favorably impressed when Bruce departed early on Saturday in order to be properly prepared for the Sabbath the following day. These days sometimes I wonder if there aren’t many Joseph Fielding Smiths around to approve, or Amelias either, for that matter. For one instance, my strong views on the Sabbath, intended for my own life and benefit, have alienated me and even drawn some abuse in one ward. They’ve theoretically lost me opportunities now in yet another, simply because I choose to reallocate frivolous socializing time from Sunday to any other day, when for some reason the Sabbath has become the day most used to advantage to further flirtatious interests (and I don’t mean in the “proper courtship” manner referred to by the Brethren). I can follow edifying conversation and videos, but not frolicking. Somehow declining on Sunday is often viewed as an affront, worthy of ostracization the remainder of the week.
I try not to sorrow over the cost of this and many other things, but the apparent scarcity of opportunity within my desires. Even if subject to pain and death, at the heights of discipleship one should only sorrow for the sins of the world (see 3 Nephi 28:9). In furtherance of developing the appropriate friendship theme:
I want to acknowledge to the brethren and sisters that my obedience to the laws of the Church has never been a drawback to me in my life; and I want to testify, upon the other hand, that it has been a strength and a power to me, and I have never lost a friend that was worthy of being a friend, from living as near as I could to the requirements of the gospel. (Reed Smoot, CR, Oct. 1916, 39)
To enhance its pertinence:
Remember, my young brethren and sisters, you will never have an occasion to be embarrassed—among people of character, people who count, real men and women—because you live according to the standards, the teachings, and ideals of the Church. (The Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson, 461)
Setting aside all that trivial talk in the very beginning, what’s number one on my list of things it would be nice to have? A confidante. When I say this, I mean someone capable of caring, cheering, contributing, correcting. And I don’t hold any minor definition of capability there. Is it too much to ask for such that arises naturally from an equal participant in a shared future, shared aspirations—someone hoping to give no less than I also wish to give for the kingdom of God? I’m reminded of a returned missionary I asked out on the strength of a tearful testimony that she’d do anything for the gospel; I was content to let the date die its usual fate, and quit trying to put myself forward, when she managed to offhandedly disclose within thirty minutes that she had absolutely no testimony of visiting teaching.
As it is, the thoughts running through my head reverberate like thunder, but I can seldom release more than about 25% of them. Also...can I be taken care of? Just a little? Every now and then, on a little selfish whim? But nobody get any ideas that I’m vulnerable! You’ll not be seeing my soft side!! ;-) To make this more poignant, I’m listening to Richard Marx’s “Hold on to the Nights.”
And one good yardstick as to whether a person might be the right one for you is this: in her presence, do you think your noblest thoughts, do you aspire to your finest deeds, do you wish you were better than you are? (The Teachings of Ezra Taft Benson, 546)
I’m playing(?) for keeps here, as with everything else I undertake! I have to confess that at various times the dating scene has managed to make me feel petty, sad, upset, jealous, demeaned, daydreamy, even condescending or bored myself, in the presence of women. But that’s not the right idea. All my noblest thoughts and finest deeds have been on my own, which is definitely not to say I’m all that fine and noble...just that I have yet to experience inspiration from an earth-based source. ;-) (At one time in my life I was pressing forward in spite of, and not because of, someone.) Is that too much to ask for? My faith and confidence in the Lord lead me to exclaim, “No. It isn’t!”
