I'm With Anne

(Source)

Admit it, girls - you've read the books. Several times.

And you've watched the movies. Several times.

And maybe you even imitated Anne's hairstyle(s), tried out her cure for freckles, wished you had a bosom friend of your very own, and dreamed of cycling all around P.E. Island, skirts and braids a'flying.

Well, I know I did. In my secret heart of hearts, I was Anne of Green Gables (in much the same way as I was in turn Jo March and Scarlett O'Hara incarnate, whenever I got lost in those books during my childhood).

But this post isn't about Jo and Scarlett, wise women in their own ways. It's about Anne. And a conversation that she had with two elders, discussing what she's looking for in a suitor:

* * *

"Fred is extremely good," said Anne.

"That's just what he ought to be. Would you want Diana to marry a wicked man? Or marry one yourself?"

"Oh, no. I wouldn't want to marry anybody who was wicked, but I think I'd like it if he could be wicked and wouldn't. Now, Fred is hopelessly good."

"You'll have more sense some day, I hope," said Marilla.

-From Anne of the Island by Lucy Maud Montgomery

* * *

I'm not sure what reminded me of this particular passage, other than it's Monday afternoon and my mind is grasping for any thought more interesting than my usual, long-running internal debate as to the exact shade of beige on my cubicle walls.

(Today it's looking more like "Desert Sands," but last week I was nearly sold on "Toasted Almond." Tune in tomorrow, when the tide could turn in favor of "Fatigued Khaki"!)

Nevertheless, since this passage came to mind, and since I brought it up, let's have a healthy discussion. Sistahs: would you concur with Anne's suitor criteria, or do you find yourselves in Marilla's camp?

Singing "Surrey with the Fringe on Top" In Front of Ira

I thought I had my entire day planned out, but what I hadn't planned on was running into a certain someone with his certain someone at my bus stop this morning. The possibility of such an encounter had vaguely troubled me ever since he informed me (sometime last month) that I now lived on the same block as his new girlfriend. New York is a city of infinite possibilities, millions of people, and five boroughs...what are the odds that I would randomly move to the exact same block as this girl? I marveled at God's sense of humor, wrote a bad poem, sought friends' affirmation, then tried to forget about it.

That is, until today, when the situation presented itself unavoidably at the bus stop. Though my first instinct was to run in the other direction, I reasoned that was not something an almost-29-year-old should do. So instead I smiled and said "hello," accepted his awkward hug, and politely shook her hand. Thankfully, we were relieved from our strained small talk by the arrival of their bus after only a few minutes. As they rolled away to brunch, I called Chantal for support.

I bemoaned the fact that the girl was not named "Ethel" nor did she have a lazy eye (as we had previously schemed), and Chantal very wisely pointed out that she probably has a peg-leg or something, currently disguised under winter clothing, but it would be most unsightly during the summer. This made me feel better; not so much for its likelihood, but because it reminded me that I have good, supportive friends. :) I was further reminded later in the day, when Denise supposed that it was highly doubtful the girl was a natural blonde, and that there was no way her butt looks as good as mine. These are true friends, indeed; they know just what to say to cheer me up.

The mystery remains, however, as to why I needed cheering up in the first place. I couldn't figure out why I cared. Why should a brief encounter with a boy, who I broke up with almost 9 years ago, have such an emotional effect? And why would I hope that his current girlfriend would have an ugly name or lackluster character or a prosthetic limb, even? I have come to a few preliminary conclusions:

1) Being a girl is annoying. Or at least, it can be when it comes to emotions. A wise friend said to me recently that often the things we admonish ourselves for are the things that make us human. So girly emotions, frustrating though they may be, are part of my human condition; I will try to just accept their presence, though not necessarily act on them.

2) There are lasting consequences when we do things apart from God. My relationship with this boy was certainly apart from God, so it is understandable that there may be lingering effects and messiness and awkwardness left to sort through, even 9 years later. This too is part of my human condition. Yet see #3 below for the good news...

3) God does not leave me alone to sort through the above items. I am in need of continual grace: grace to let go of vanity and jealousy, grace to heal, grace to truly seek and pray for the peace of others, grace to believe God's promises, grace to see myself through His eyes and not through other people, and grace to (gracefully) survive awkard small talk at bus stops. And happily, God's grace is abundantly available; I just need to remember to keep asking for it.