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Print Dear Gabby, I have a dear friend whom I love with all of my heart. Although there was a time I would have dated him, we are on two very different spiritual levels at this point—so much so that I fear that dating would be a huge distraction to both of us. I can’t say we will never date, but I definitely know (through prayer) that we can’t date right now. How do you handle a situation when you want to, but you can’t, date someone due to his spiritual condition, and is it okay to tell him that you might date him someday, but not now? And if you do tell him, how do you know whether he makes improvements based on the reward of a relationship with you, or whether he does it simply because he knows it is right? Miss Dating Dilemma in Detroit
Dear Dating Dilemma, My dear friend Julietta Turner Armstrong Le Fleur is the richest person I’ve ever been acquainted with. We met the summer we were 15 years old, through our mothers who were school chums. Although I thought she’d spend the visit looking down her aristocratic nose at me, we ended up becoming the dearest of friends. That’s why I was concerned when she introduced me to Gerald Linden, the man who was working overtime to capture her heart. My dear Harry and I were newlyweds at the time, and we’d traveled to Chicago so Harry could attend a convention. I was excited about spending some nice cozy time with my dear friend Julietta while Harry attended meetings. So, over tea, and the most delicious little cakes I’ve ever tasted, I met Julia’s Gerald. This gentleman seemed perfect for Julietta: handsome, funny, attentive, and dapper. He made us laugh, telling witty stories full of self-deprecating humor. His manners were above reproach. He was absolutely perfect. But something about him just didn’t set right with me. My own dear Harry was as close to perfect as any man on the face of the earth, yet I’d discovered one or two idiosyncrasies—even in him. Julietta’s Gerald was just too good to be true. His “perfection” made me nervous. And I told her so, after he headed out to an afternoon appointment. That was the only time Julietta and I ever had a real disagreement. She was hurt that I didn’t think he was the man for her. And, I didn’t have the right words to explain to her what I was feeling, except to say that I just felt odd about him. That afternoon, we left each other feeling rather put out with each other, I must admit. And, when I didn’t get my usual weekly letter from Julietta for the next three weeks, I felt sick about the loss. Then, one day I got a telegram from Julietta. It was short and to the point: “You were right. STOP. Coming tomorrow to tell you. STOP. Sorry. STOP.” It turns out that while Gerald was at a Chicago Cubs/Boston Red Sox game, he had loudly bragged to the chap sitting next to him that he’d won the heart of the richest woman in the state and he couldn’t wait to marry her so he could get his hands on her money. And the two of them had laughed together about how naïve Julietta was to believe that all his protestations were true love. “I’m working harder than I ever have before,” he bragged, loudly, “but when I get all that money, it’ll be worth all the effort—even if I do think she’s a bit cold and probably won’t be a very amusing wife.” What Gerald didn’t know was that Julietta’s cousin Lawrence had convinced her, just that morning, to go to the same game with him, since he had an extra ticket and she was the only one available to go. And they were sitting just three rows in front of Gerald! Julietta, who’d heard the entire embarrassing conversation, along with all the people sitting nearby, stood to her full height and turned. In the same moment, she removed the sun hat that had been shading her face (and hiding her hair) and suddenly, Gerald, of the big mouth, was seeing the furious face of the woman he’d been gossiping about. “What did you do?” I asked her. “Oh, Gabby,” she said, turning a bit pink. “I marched up the steps and, oh my, I paused just long enough to fling my lemonade into his sputtering face.” A giggle escaped from one of us and before we knew it, we were both laughing—Julietta through her tears. Julietta had been convinced of Gerald’s love because he said and did all the right things. What she didn’t know was what was in his heart. And, that, Miss Detroit, is what you will never know if you tell this young man that you want to date him when he gets spiritual life in order. I believe you need to do what Julietta did when she met Mr. Jean Paul Le Fleur, the wonderful man who ultimately did win her hand in marriage. She was in her oldest clothes, shopping for vegetables at the market, when they first laid eyes on each other. He was not from the area and she never let on that she was wealthy. For several months, when he called on her or took her to dinner, he met her at her maid’s sister’s house, and she wore store-bought ready-made dresses so he wouldn’t suspect her wealth. Julietta was determined that Mr. Le Fleur would win her heart and not her money. And he worked hard to capture her—for the right reasons. And you know what was really interesting about Jean Paul? He ended up having a net worth that was three times bigger than Julia’s! So, Miss Detroit, it’s important for your friend to do right for right’s sake—not just to win your affection. It’s better not to say anything, just wait until the time (and the young man) are right. I’m sure Gerald Linden would agree. Sincerely Sincere,
Dear Gabby, My husband and I have been dedicated members of our church for over 20 years, but lately we've been having a problem. I grew up in this church, and throughout my entire childhood I had maybe three friends. None of them attend now and we've lost touch. Lately it seems that our church is nothing more than a social club, and the people who attend are snobs with a lot of money. My husband and I are down-to-earth people; we're a working-class family with a medium-size income and some kids. We're the only family like that in our church. We feel very out of place. I don't have even one friend in the whole church. My kids don't, either. There's another church in our city with a lot of families like us, and we get along great with them. They believe the same things and are even stricter than our church. I don't know what to do! We don't want to leave because we know it would devastate our pastor and confuse our kids, but it seems that something needs to happen. I feel more comfortable with my non-Christian friends at work than I do with my acquaintances at church, not because we do bad things (we don't), but because they're not rich snobs. In fact, I feel like I don't fit in anywhere because of the situation. I would really appreciate any advice you have. Would it really be so bad to leave one church and go to another if it's better suited to our needs? We just want to fit in somewhere, and it seems that would be more likely somewhere else. Sincerely,
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Southeast, Sometimes I get a letter that is very similar to one I’ve previously answered. Instead of telling you the same story that I told the previous letter-writer, it makes sense to me to just point you in the direction of that answer and pray that the previous answer will minister to your question in the same way. This is one of those cases. Although the details differ, the bottom-line answer is the same. If you’ll click over and read my answer to Miss Left Out in Louisiana, I believe you’ll find much to identify with. Sincerely Sincere,
ninetyandnine.com © 2005, 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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