My Golden Calf
When I was in my early 20s I lived in a tiny 2-bedroom apartment with my roommate, Kristin. She was a pre-school teacher and I was a floundering college student who babysat on the side. We were both single and looking for “Mr. Right.” We’d been searching in vain for so long that we resorted to imagining we had next-door neighbors who met all of our criteria. And by that I mean they were Abercrombie models who loved the Lord. (We named them Tim and Todd.) Kristin and I watched “The Wedding Planner” and “Return to Me” repeatedly on our lonely Saturday nights and ate ice cream straight from the carton. Those were the glory days of my youth.
Around that time, while having lunch with my Mom at a restaurant downtown, our waiter asked for my phone number. His name was Todd. (I KNOW! I took it as a sign from God.) I’d never been on a date with someone without being friends first, but I was so flattered at the request that I said yes. I met him at a nice little Italian bistro. I was so incredibly nervous I drank at least 5 glasses of water before our entree was even served. When Todd ordered a bottle of wine for our table I quickly realized he must have thought I was over 21. I wasn’t. I was barely 20. (I blame the outfit I was wearing. I knew I was too immature to shop at Ann Taylor and yet there I was, in a pantsuit of all things.) I couldn’t stand the embarrassment of admitting my age, but I was also naive enough to think I could be thrown in jail for sipping wine while underage, so I resorted to saying I was against alcohol for “religious reasons,” (entirely untrue). As you may have guessed, Todd never called me again after that night. I tell myself it was his loss.
That season of my life was wonderfully confusing. The friendships I had with the guys in my life at the time were solid and life-giving. I was blessed to be surrounded by young men who loved Jesus, respected women, and were genuinely fun to be around. Those relationships shaped my idea of what I felt I wanted in a spouse. I mentioned briefly in my last post the first real heartbreak I experienced after a relationship ended with one of those friends. I don’t blame him. I built things up in my head so much that the only way he could’ve kept from disappointing me was to offer me a ring, and neither of us were really ready for that. Marriage, or at least the idea of it, had became a glaring idol in my life. In his book, Counterfeit Gods, Tim Keller defines an idol as, “whatever you look at and say, in your heart of hearts, ‘If I have that, then I’ll feel my life has meaning, then I’ll know I have value, then I’ll feel significant and secure.’” In hindsight I see why God thwarted my hopes and dreams of marrying that friend. I desired marriage more than I desired Him. More than that, I desired control, more than I desired Him. My sense of worth was wrapped up in my marriage-potential. My idols needed to be unearthed and destroyed.
My wedding binder became a very tangible symbol for my idols. It’s exactly what it sounds like. A 3-ring binder filled with pages from bridal magazines, (neatly placed in individual plastic sleeves, of course). They were all ideas that inspired me to sit and stare off dreamily into my future wedding ceremony. Unless you can say you’ve never started a Pinterest board, you need to stop judging me right now. All that was missing was the groom, pesky little detail that he was. I started the binder when I was about 19 years old and over the years I kept adding to it. My girlfriends and I spent many evenings reviewing and updating the pages. Eventually I had to categorize the pages by season and color scheme, since obviously I couldn’t predict what time of year I'd end up getting married. Ya know, since I was STILL SINGLE. (I know what your’e thinking. With that level of crazy it’s hard to believe I ended up married at all.)
When my aforementioned relationship crashed and burned, my wedding binder got shelved. I could no longer bare to look at it. It became exceedingly obvious to me I had no clue what I was doing when it came to choosing a spouse. The Lord very firmly but lovingly brought me to my knees. I loosened my grip on that binder, and on all thoughts of marriage. I remembered my first love, and I committed the next 12 months to pursuing no one else but Him. I dated no one but Jesus from Valentine’s Day 2004 to Valentine’s Day 2005. For me it was more than just a trendy “I Kissed Dating Goodbye” cliche, it was one of the most transformative seasons in my relationship with God. I went to restaurants and dined alone, my Bible open on the table in front of me. I took picnics to the park and spent the time journaling and praying. I grew in confidence, knowing I was deeply loved, pursued, and delighted in by my Maker. My worth was no longer defined by whether or not someone wanted to marry me. I gave God the space and attention He needed to show me He was more than enough for me. Whenever He wanted to lead me to another romantic relationship, I would be ready to hold it with an open hand.
The Bible has a lot to say about idolatry. (1 Corinthians 10:14, 1 John 5:21, Jonah 2:8, Galations 5:19-21, Exodus 20:3-6, just to start.) The golden calf created by the Israelites in the book Exodus was manmade. As all idols are, it was made from things of this world, earthly desires, impatience and selfish dreams. Idols are not from God. What idols do you need to hand over? Maybe, like me, your heart is fixed on a wedding. Maybe it’s on starting a family and becoming parents. Maybe it’s a new house, or climbing the ladder at work. Maybe it’s an addiction you’ve allowed to consume you. Do you believe what you’re pursuing will fulfill you? Whatever it is, do you want it more than you want God?
I used to ask God to “grant me the desires of my heart,” especially when it came to romantic relationships. It seemed innocent enough. But then I looked more closely at Psalm 37:4. “Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of you heart.” Oops. Apparently we have a responsibility too. Before we can expect God to give us our heart’s desires, we need to first delight in Him and Him alone. The word “delight” means to take great pleasure or joy. It’s hard for our idols to stand if we’re taking great pleasure in God.
It’s funny how when we let go of the things we desire most, finally resigned to live without them, God often hands them back to us. February 15, 2005, the day after my year of dating Jesus was “finished,” a young man in my class, a fellow college student, approached me and struck up a conversation. He was funny, handsome, and genuine. One year later he was down on one knee, asking me to marry him. I could finally blow the dust off my wedding binder! Turns out, I didn’t like a single idea in there. Ironic, isn’t it? When it came time to plan my actual wedding, none of my saved ideas were good representations of both me AND my groom. I had planned every detail according to ME. Like all idols we create, mine was formed entirely of selfish desires. But by the time I met my husband, the desire of my heart had changed. Delighting in the Lord does that.