More than just a stupid boyfriend

Dear reader, I hope I didn't get you overly excited with the title of this post, because it's not what you think. Honest. But now that I have your attention...

 

Ever since Macho died, I've been grieving off and on, but that's just the nature of losing a loved one. (Even though he was just a cat.) Meanwhile, Choochie and I are moving on. I really don't think she misses him at all. I think she enjoys having the place all to herself, even though she's 16 years old and not as extroverted as she once was. And I hope she's enjoying all the extra attention from me. See? I even made a playlist on my phone just for her. (Even though she's just a cat.)

Macho will not be replaced by another cat. One of the many reasons why is because I want Choochie to know that she's enough for me.

Yes, of course I'm building to something here.

"Because he has set his love upon Me, therefore I will deliver him; I will set him on high, because he has known My name. He shall call upon Me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him, and show him My salvation." (Psalm 91:14-16)

When I was in high school -- beginning a new school my sophomore year, if I remember correctly -- my birth mother instructed me to wear my birth father's class ring and tell people that I had a boyfriend. I didn't have a boyfriend. If people had looked closely at the ring, they would have seen that its owner graduated from high school in the 1960s. The whole thing was a lie. But I obeyed. Because that's what kids are supposed to do: whatever their parents tell them to do.

And my mother was a very honest woman. #sarcasm

And my father was an admirable man who ensured that his family always did what was right. #actuallyhewasawuss

And I wore his ring so that people would believe that I was already taken. #iwasatotalpushover #andineededtherapy

I'm not exactly sure what wearing a lie on my finger was supposed to accomplish. Was I supposed to keep boys away so that I could concentrate on my schoolwork? Were there dozens of boys knocking down our front door to ask for my number? Or did my parents just totally hate every eligible bachelor in the vicinity? Hmm. At any rate, their scheme definitely accomplished something: I never gave them grandchildren. #sothere

To be fair, at the time, we had just moved to a part of Texas that was a relatively short drive away from Mexico and, therefore, very heavily influenced by Mexican culture. If you were a female, there was a strong chance that any mexicano with a shred of machismo could openly flirt with you to a degree that would make you uncomfortable... without warning... on any occasion... ad nauseam. Over time, I began to expect this behavior from the male species, regardless of ethnicity.

To this day, I feel rejected whenever I like a guy and he doesn't pursue me. Because that's what real men are supposed to do: initiate. (But that's a different story for a different day.)

Regarding the fake-boyfriend ring charade -- again, to be fair -- telling somebody, "I have a boyfriend," does carry a lot of weight with it. If a guy finds out that a woman he likes already has a boyfriend, the potential suitor will usually stop pursuing, respect the existing relationship, and move on. (Unless, of course, he's a Hispanic guy who likes to holler at women as if they were dogs.) The fact that you are off the market should automatically create a safe distance between you and unwanted suitors.

Maybe the fake-boyfriend ring charade was my birth mother's sick way of protecting me. Maybe she was just doing what her mother taught her to do. Or maybe she was just teaching me to lie for no particular reason, which I think was kind of like a hobby for her. (Do you really think she stayed home from church on Wednesday nights because she wasn't feeling well? Heh. I guess that has a better ring to it than "I would rather watch TV than play church today.")

I guess I could compare her actions to what Abraham did with Sarah in the Bible ("She's my sister; just kidding, sort of -- she's my wife"), twice. But Abraham tried to cover up his relationship by trying to make it sound less intimate than it really was; my birth mother taught me how to invent a relationship out of thin air.

Perhaps I should thank her for contributing to my fiction-writing career... but truth be told, I really don't think my birth mother was even saved. If she were, I think she would have understood that I didn't need a stupid boyfriend lie. I think she would have understood that God was more than enough for me. He was more than enough protection and identity for me.

And He still is.

"The eyes of all look expectantly to You, and You give them their food in due season. You open Your hand and satisfy the desire of every living thing." (Psalm 145:15-16)

I haven't had a date in 22 years (#thanksMom), and I honestly wouldn't be surprised if I were to never have one ever again. I hear women tell awesome stories of how they met their husbands and about how God spoke to them and told them about how they were going to get married, who they were going to marry, etc. Seriously, these are really cool testimonies.

But God doesn't speak to me like that anymore. Nowadays whenever I talk to God about getting married, He's like, "You don't need a husband; you have Me." Lately when I've talked to God about a guy I like, He's spoken to me with a jealous tone in His voice, "What does he have that I don't have?" Skin and other body parts that I probably can't mention in a rated-G blog post... with all due respect, Father. Yes, these are the types of conversations that I usually end up having with God. (Which is probably one reason why I don't pray out loud much in front of other people.)

But God is enough for me. I don't need to worry about protection, because I'm covered by the Almighty King of the Universe -- the same One who blinded people and struck people dead in the Bible. (You really don't want to mess with Him.) I don't need to obsess about identity, because I'm adopted by the greatest Father in the Universe -- the same One who sent His Son to die for me just to make a way for us to know each other. (He really wants me.)

So, I don't need to cover myself with a lie, because I'm already covered by the One who is full of grace and truth. I'm good to go.

But the point of writing this post isn't to whine about not having a boyfriend or a husband. I just wanted to say that God is more than just a stupid boyfriend for me, and He's enough of a Husband for me.

And Choochie is enough of a cat for this crazy old cat lady. #awww