Poetry

Here is a poem of sorts that I wrote a few weeks ago. In all honesty, it is probably very naive and unrealistic...but I felt that I wanted to post it anyway.

"[Title That I Don't Have Yet lol]"

So late last night when I was home alone
And shaking out the laundry with a spark
You flashed into my mind and in the dark
I saw a world: talking on the phone

And walking in the rain, and telling one
By one our secrets, dining late at night
And staying snug in bed when it is light
And all those things that I have never done

‘Cause I am always outside looking in
But doing chores last night I swear I found
Our clothes together tumbling round and round
And closed my eyes and felt the world spin

‘Cause don’t you know, the night gets kind of cold
With echoes going round inside my head
I see my life and I feel kind of dead
‘Cause everything is safe and nice and old

Capri’s, vacations, pets, and weekend chores:
There must, there must be more to life than this
‘Cause it was really fun when we were six
But—dare I say it?—now I’m really bored

But maybe hope is shining like a star
‘Cause we are not entirely our fault
And just perhaps, beneath this echoing vault
Of sky you’re out there, bright and real and far

-Violet

TDOC, Chapter 9: I'm Standing Here Doing Nothing But Aging

The final bit! I promise!

Whilst vigorously searching the Internet to hear other people’s opinions on this topic, I was disappointed to see that, while there are literally dozens of websites and blogs dedicated to promoting the ideals of courtship, there is virtually nothing that even mentions the possibility of courtship having a darker side (except for the occasional Christian-betrothal advocate, who believes that the courtship system is too worldly and permissive—but that is truly another story). Consequently, I don’t know if there is anyone out there (with the exception of my sister) who has the same insider view on the courtship world, and feels the same way about it as I do. So to all you parents who believe that courtship is the only option for raising godly children, do consider my story and think of me once in a while. Think of me, who was tirelessly protected from the dangers of emotionally damaging break-ups, irresistible sexual temptation, and basic cultural competence, but was left totally vulnerable to something that often feels just as dangerous: the probability of long, long years ahead filled with female friends, Christian service, parental involvement, and complete and utter loneliness. Think of me, who seriously had nothing better to do than write this stupid article. And to all you shining-eyed sixteen-somethings who think I am just being whiny: grab a coffee with me in about 5 years, and we’ll talk. However, if there is anyone else out there who reads this and can sympathize with it, know that my heart goes out to you. Know that you are not alone in your loneliness. Know that there is at least one other person on planet Earth who is trapped, like you, between the high expectations of well-meaning parents, and an outside world that was never designed to accommodate those expectations. We are capable of understanding each other, because we are the ones who sat at home on Friday nights and cleaned the bathrooms while all our friends ate in fancy restaurants or went on long walks in the park. We are the ones who have stayed up late countless nights as if we could convince ourselves that another day was not going to pass by in which nothing had changed for the better. We are the ones who will probably spend the rest of our lives babysitting our neighbors’ children and ironing our fathers’ shirts, while every hour that passes makes it more and more unlikely that a change will ever come along. And at the risk of sounding melodramatic, we are the lost generation.

-Violet

TDOC, Chapter 7: A Good Man is Hard to Find

Some people seem to have the attitude that if they conform to all the high standards of courting, refrain from having any relationships while in high school, and don’t act in any way that is geared to attract the attention of the opposite sex, that God is therefore obligated to create their ideal wife or husband made-to-order, and promptly drop him or her off on their doorstep the day after high school graduation. This is perhaps one of the saddest things about the whole thing, and I don’t want to talk about it much because it makes me really depressed. And anyway I’m sure that if you have actually made it this far in the essay, you’re probably really wanting me to wrap it up. Suffice it to say that the immediate appearance of a potential spouse who will satisfy both your parent’s expectations and your own basic emotional needs is a blatant fiction. In my case, for example, there has always been a very definite lack of potential spouses, ideal or otherwise, but I know that even if one did show up, I would never want to marry the kind of guy that genuinely believes in courtship. But neither would I want to ask a guy to formulate our entire relationship around a process that he does not genuinely believe in. But, obviously, my parents would never let me have a relationship with a guy that is not a courtship relationship. And thus the vicious cycle continues.

TDOC, Chapter 1: The Lost Generation

I do realize that I have just entitled this little number “An Essay,” but allow me to commence by asking your permission to be a little flexible with the genre and share a narrative story of sorts. The story goes as follows. There was once a girl who always did well in school, mostly for the reason that she had basically no life, and who also had big dreams of having some sort of vaguely-defined adventurous experience, probably due to the fact that she had read far too many books over the years whose titles began with the phrase “The Adventures Of.” Time, after all, being rather otherwise than static, this girl eventually graduated from high school and attended her home school high school graduation. As her various (non)classmates share their journeys, hopes and aspirations for the future, she cringes as most of them recite a long list of grades, competitions and clubs, and she looks nervously down at her statement, which according to the recommendations of her mother consists mostly of “Violet is so grateful to her family.” However, as the ceremony drags on and on in a very boring way, she begins to notice another trend in the statements of the feminine segment of the graduating class: girl after girl describes their future plans as simply wanting to get married and have children. Imagine that! The girl tosses her head and congratulates herself on the fact that she is not like those frivolous and shallow-minded other girls. She has not wasted one moment of her teenage years on boys, dating, and the subsequent emotional damage. Rather, she has spent this time on more important things, such as preventing Awana children from killing themselves in the church parking lot, watching a set collection of about 20 VHS’s, and cleaning out the family garage an insane number of times. Right now, she is going to attend a local college, write the great American novel, and participate in as many short-term mission trips as possible. As she mounts the platform to receive her hard-earned diploma, a surge of emotional elation, or maybe adrenaline, courses through her, and she realizes the immense potential that such an decidedly single individual as she is going to bring to the world.
Fast-forward to almost exactly three years later. The very same girl, once so ecstatic and confident, is now basically an insecure, confused, 21-year-old emotional basket-case who is beginning this essay, which she will most probably never share with anyone, at 1:45 in the morning on a Friday night. What happened? No one knows for sure, but it is evident that this girl has realized that a life consisting solely of college, mission trips, and yes, even writing gets really old after a while. This girl has almost no male friends of any sort, and has at least 4 unanswered friend requests on Facebook because they are from acquaintances of the male persuasion, and last time she befriended a very, very casual male acquaintance on Facebook her mother interrogated her about it. After college graduation, which will occur in approximately one year, this girl plans to get a job in town and try to earn some money. This girl looks back at diary entries she wrote around the time of high school graduation, and feels that she is reaping what she has sown. This girl, by the way, is me. And, although she asked her dad a few days ago exactly where her family lay on the spectrum of dating vs. courtship and her dad told her he hadn’t really thought about it yet, her dad stated that definitely, if the question is made into a dichotomy, this girl’s family is a courting family.
This otherwise rather pointless little narrative makes a very nice cognitive connection to the real topic of this essay, which I have entitled “The Dangers of Courtship.” Ah, I’ve tricked you there, haven’t I. You thought I was going to say “The Dangers of Dating.” Alas, dear reader, alliteration is only the first of many things you shall be forced to dispense with when reading this essay. But I feel that you are fully capable of dealing with said deprivation. After all, I now feel that I’ve been living rather some time without any indication that my life would ever consist of anything more romantic than walking the family dog.