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October 7, 2002 Dear Gabby…This guy and I have been dating for a couple years now. The problem is, I am not really sure where to go from here. I don’t really know what I want anymore, so I have kind of been avoiding him and stalling for a while now. I feel like I am wasting his time since I am not really ready for anything else. I feel like I am not being fair to him. What do you think I should do? Stalling in Seattle
Dear Stalling, My snide little sister Susannah collected gentlemen admirers the same way my brother Stanley collected toy soldiers. Every male of marriageable age (and even a few who were not) wanted to be the one to claim her. Freckle faced Ned-Bob Johnson, with that shock of red hair, was in love with her when he was just six. And then, who could forget ancient old Mr. Charlie Kleinheim, who was always the oldest (and the shortest) gentleman in our town, even to our parents. He tried to win her hand, too. Susannah was above them all. She looked down her nose at Mr. Kleinheim (of course, he was barely five feet tall, so everyone looked down at him.) She patted little Ned-Bob on his red hair and just went on with her own business. My parents watched the entire thing with fond amusement, realizing that Susannah wasn’t hurting anything or anyone. They figured that she’d have to know how to deal with gentlemen her whole life, so it was good for her to practice while she was still in their household. As long as she treated the gentlemen appropriately, they watched her interactions from a distance and didn’t get involved. However, the incident with Mr. Hurshell Hoffert changed all that. Hurshell was a hard-working young man, but was so homely that the young ladies could barely stand to look at him. He was very tall - even taller than our Papa - and weighed about 120 lbs., soaking wet. When you looked up at him (as everyone in our town did), all you could see were his nose holes. Big nose holes. His curly, black hair stuck up all over his head, and he could fit a carrot stick between the gap in his two front teeth. (We saw him do that one time when he was trying to impress Susannah.) Hurshell wanted to marry Susannah. Mysteriously, Susannah wasn’t interested. That wouldn’t have been a problem if she’d just told him straight out. She’d done that with other admirers. But this time, for some reason, she kept poor Hurshell hoping. My parents did nothing when he came to call on her at our house. They stayed out of the middle of it when he pursued her in the churchyard after Sunday services. They didn’t even say anything when she announced to them that she’d accepted an invitation to dinner at Dolly’s Diner. But when they overheard Susannah and me talking about him to one of our chums, Genevieve Adams, on the front porch, they decided enough was enough. Genevieve couldn’t believe that Susannah was going to go to dinner with Hurshell. “But, Susannah,” she sputtered, “I thought you weren’t fond of him.” “I’m not,” Susannah said. “I thought you weren’t interested in him as a future husband,” I added. “There’s absolutely no chance that I’d marry him.” “Then, why are you going to dinner with him?” “I don’t know, exactly,” Susannah replied. “I just find his devotion amusing. And, goodness gracious, if he wants to pay for dinner at the Diner, I’m happy to accept it.” “Susannah Elizabeth,” Papa’s stern voice boomed from the sitting room. “Say good afternoon to Miss Adams and come in here immediately.” “Yes, Papa.” “Gabrigail?” he said to me. “You come, too.” That afternoon the two of us received a blistering lecture that might make a difference in your life as well. Papa spoke to us about toying with the affections of a gentleman. He told us that it was much kinder to everyone involved if we didn’t let a young man think he had a chance with us. “Not only are you beautiful young women, but you’re also intelligent,” he said (I knew he must be talking mostly to Susannah), “and, of course, young men are going to be interested in making you their wife. But if he’s not what you want, say so in the beginning so he’s not wasting his time with you. The only young men you should be allowing to court you are the ones you deem worthy to be your future husbands.” “Yes, Papa,” we answered. “Remember, girls, every person is created and loved by Almighty God, and the way you’ve been treating these young gentlemen does not respect God’s creation.” (Actually, it was Susannah who mistreated the affections of young gentlemen, but I wasn’t going to try to correct anything my wise Papa said.) Papa required Susannah to apologize to Mr. Hurshell Hoffert that very afternoon for wasting his time and for making him believe that she was interested in becoming his future wife. Hurshell was hurt at first, but ended up marrying that adorable Polly Hanley a couple of years later, and they had a houseful of children. I’d like to suggest that you also chat with the young man who’s been courting you to tell him that you’ve been wasting his time (let alone his affections and probably his money, too). If you’re not the woman who’ll marry him in the future, you need to set him free to find her. Not only would that please my Papa (if he were still with us), but it will please God, too. Sincerely Sincere, Gabby
ninetyandnine.com © 2002, ninetyandnine.com --------- Gabrigail VanBurden has been offering advice for longer than most of you have been alive. Email your practical Apostolic life questions to Gabby@ninetyandnine.com and be prepared for some straight answers! |
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