When working in a 24-hour facility, a single vacation day can muck up the schedule. I happen to be the "muck recipient" to another's vacation this week, trading my free Friday for a five day work stretch. It will make for a long weekend, but I figure it will make my free day that much more appreciated. I'll be ready to go out on the town, or I could catch some college basketball at a local bar and grill. Let's see: Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday...ugh. Seriously?
For the first time in years, I will not be working on Valentine's Day, a service that had provided a welcome distraction among company that would prefer not to mention it. For the record, this is my ninth straight without the prospect of a meaningful relationship. This does not elicit state of depression, as I generally content with my position unless I am enticed, but it does remind me how increasingly difficult satisfying the desire for family has become, at least through my own efforts.
At an early age, I recognized my limitations. I would never be athletic, physically attractive. or disciplined enough to be a scholar. Rather than sulk over these limitations, I decided to emphasize what I did have. I could charm. Not every girl took to it; those that didn't were usually repulsed. But it was plenty useful.
Charm can be defined as "the power or quality of pleasing or delighting" or "attracting through personality or beauty." The ideal is sought enough to conceive the fairy tale Prince Charming, and it can overcome a myriad of physical insecurities. To some degree, charm is an art of deception, from the exhibitor to the pursued. I had to believe that my words made me worthy of a girl's affection, and she had to believe that I was doing her a favor to choose her.
As easily as we are deceived apart from His truth, charm served its purpose. But the foundation of charm is ultimately a house of cards: if at any point I recognize my shortcomings, I immediately lose my appeal...and she we will come to her senses.
I could never play the game long enough, and I'm thankful for that. But it did have me considering what was left. To humbly subject myself to the whims of a woman's affection (without control) is an incredibly unattractive quality; it is the catalyst for the "friend zone." In a world full of pain, most people want to be with someone they feel they don't deserve, as twisted as that may be.
Not so coincidentally, I dropped the charm game shortly after my last summer of camp directing. Sadly, church leadership often employs the same character deception, and kids are too trusting not to be an easy target. They told me how great I was, and they boosted my ego. The coolest boys wanted to be like me; the cutest girls adored me.
But the more I pursued God, the less I could fake it. The lousy foundation caved at the recognition of my depravity. It's a recognition that isn't easily undone, and most subjects of my charm weren't crazy about the change.
I find it funny that the English word charm is often used synonymously with an older Greek word: charisma. Used seventeen times in the New Testament, the word implies a favor given without merit of our own -- contextually speaking, it is a "gift of grace."
The established church gave charisma a different connotation, as those considered to have specially divine or "chosen" abilities were dubbed charismatic. Sociologists soon secularized this connotation for those particularly talented in the art of influence through personality.
Granted, it is just a word. However, I find it ironic that a word intended to demonstrate the reliance of man upon God has evolved to indicate a power of man.
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I have questions, but I don't have an answer:
What if the mess I see in the mirror -- when I view everything society perceives as weakness: an unattractive, unathletic, undisciplined, 32-year-old virgin of modest resource -- what if the only magnetic quality I can offer is the same "charisma" by which Paul boasts? I have nothing of my own, and this gift can only be granted by His willingness to suffer the cross. What if grace is so ridiculously unbelievable and countercultural that the messenger's depravity only speaks more highly of the gift?
I have to be honest, because of my Prince Charming past, I am immediately suspicious at the presence of worldly charisma. Every charming man that I've ever met has held an ulterior motive. But what of a romantic relationship resting solely on the distribution of God's good grace? In this America, can the best gift be enough?
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