I Went To Church To Find A Good Man— But I Discovered Something Else Instead
Live and learn, right?
After my divorce and subsequent affair with a married man, I went through a strange period where I developed a crush on the kind of man I may not have ordinarily been attracted to — or at least I thought so.
Most of the men I had previously been with up until this particular point in my life were what most women would describe as bad boys. You know, the villainous daredevil types with lots of charisma and no bank account.
In reality, these bad boys often turned out to be wild, insecure maniacs with absolutely no plan for the future — and no plan for me either. Alas, I got totally wrapped up in their whirlwind of chaos.
After my experiences with both my ex-husband and my ex-married lover, I think I was incredibly lost. I was searching for…something.
That’s when I found myself starting to crush on a man at work. But he wasn’t just any man. He was intently religious and wholeheartedly dedicated to God. In fact, God, church, and the bible were literally the only things he ever spoke about.
He was good-looking and intensely charismatic. I worked in the office and he worked in the warehouse — so every day I would see him when he arrived to clock in. He had a fresh, genuine swagger about him and a bold, energetic aura that captivated me.
Over time, I would come to anticipate his arrival at work in the mornings and look forward to our brief exchange of pleasantries. He was at least 5 years younger than me — I was in my 30s at the time — and we certainly didn’t move in the same circles at work.
I really wanted to somehow get closer to him. I felt drawn to him.
Eventually, I made sure I placed myself in areas where I knew he would be and started up small conversations with him, attempting to insert myself into his world. It was a little bit stalker-ish, I know. What can I say?
After having some further conversations with the object of my crush, I found out that on the weekends he was completely devoted to the church he attended — organizing outings with the people from his church on Saturdays and then worshiping at the church all day on Sundays.
He invited me to come and check out his church many times — but I was hesitant.
I grew up going to a private Catholic school and going to a Catholic church until I was about 9 years old when my family stopped going to church completely. It was a decision that we discussed as a family and had agreed upon.
I had left the Catholic church behind me and, although I accept and respect that many people are devoted to their religious routine of attending church on Sundays, it wasn’t a path that I chose to follow as I grew older.
That said, I knew that I didn’t want to go to church just to hang out with this guy that I was crushing on.
Or did I?
A few weeks later, I found myself at church on a Sunday.
It was a Christian church. Everyone was very welcoming. There was a man preaching for a good length of time. There were plenty of musical interludes where Christian Rock music was played with enthusiastic clapping and dancing.
Then, people would begin to move forward to the front to be saved and released from their sins. Generally, this seemed to include those who were new to the church or who hadn’t yet been through this process.
Those who went up to the front would sway back and forth and then suddenly fall backward or pass out when a hand was put on their forehead — a releasing of evil, I suppose. It was all quite dramatic.
I went up to the front when they summoned me. It didn’t seem like I had much choice in the matter. Everyone was motioning for me to come forward. Talk about peer pressure.
I worked very hard mentally to get into the whole thing but it felt contrived and inauthentic to me. I sincerely tried to make contact with something spiritual. The best I could do was put on a smile for those around me who were looking at me rather expectantly — wanting me to acknowledge that I had been truly saved.
This particular Sunday church gathering was an all-day affair. I was not prepared for this kind of commitment but I kept going for several weeks. I really liked this guy.
However, I soon realized that I was not the only female there vying for his attention. He seemed to have quite a following. A female following.
I mostly felt like a desperate idiot for going to this church every Sunday — but I had convinced myself that it wasn’t just about the guy — it was about the journey of ‘finding myself’.
It turned out that this guy was also very much into exercise like I was and after I mentioned that we should go running together a few times he actually took me up on it and agreed to come over to my apartment one Saturday evening. I was pretty excited. I almost thought that this might be my moment.
He arrived with his running gear and off we went. It was dark outside, so that was kind of weird — but there we were. We ran and chatted. I found out much more about him. This was the first time I had seen him outside of the workplace or the church.
He was a friendly, kind guy. I didn’t know what he thought of me. I wasn’t even sure if he thought I was attractive or not. I didn’t know if he came over because we were just ‘friends’ or if he could sense that I wanted more. I’m not really a flirter. I’m an introvert. It was a miracle that I even got him to come over at all.
I learned about his jaded past and the reasons WHY he was so obsessed with being involved with the church and its activities. He spoke about being in a gang, drinking, doing drugs, having promiscuous sex, and how he almost died getting shot.
He had much more of a dark past than I had anticipated — and then, suddenly, it all made sense. He had been one of those bad boys all along. Well, a reformed bad guy, I suppose. Now I knew why I had been so attracted to him. It was like I had a sense of sniffing these guys out.
As we got further into our run, he told me about his very close friend who was a girl from the church whom he had known for a very long time. He mentioned how he wanted to settle down with her and have kids — but that they had to keep the relationship quiet for now out of respect for the church’s rules about sex before marriage.
Wait, what?
It was crushing. He was already in love with someone.
I was blatantly disappointed. I really felt like an idiot now.
Ah, well. Live and learn, right?
But what did I learn?
Actually, the whole thing was a worthwhile experience. It brought me back to the origins of my own conflict with religion. It took me to a place where I realized that this guy may have been great on the surface but he was ultimately still running from his own demons. This was not a project I wanted or needed to undertake.
I realized that if my new friend didn’t stay active within the church or stay connected with his circle of friends from the church, he may very well go back to that life he so badly wanted to escape. The life that was most familiar to him.
I guess we’re all trying to escape what’s familiar but perhaps not so good for us. Including me. However, what I saw in this man was hope. I saw a glimpse of redemption which is what I had ultimately been looking for myself.
But I wouldn’t find it in a church and I wouldn’t find it in a man. I would eventually find it within myself.
