True Love. An over-used phrase with a sort of mystical hue surrounding it, enchanting it, blowing it up into some glittering, glorious thing. A prince riding on a white horse. A knight in shining armor. A cowboy with a dashing smile…
Some people scoff at it. Some say that love—or true love, rather—doesn’t exist. Some admit it’s real, but won’t open to it, won’t believe in it for themselves. Some name it foolish, a daring sort of venture that, more often than not, ends in heart pain and agony.
And then there’s us. The younger of the living. The brave of heart. The daring, romantic, and wistful creatures, who walk about the earth with their eyes wide open and their hearts soft and ready to love…
They call us teenagers. Wise men name us fools—but then again, as the song says, wise men never fall in love. We live each day waiting. Watching. Praying. Waking each morning with the hope that this day we’ll cross roads with our true love. Sometimes we imagine it. Even go as far as to put it into detail. You’re in a lonely field when his horse gallops toward you. You’re in a train and he offers to carry your bags. You’re walking in the rain, when he speaks in gentle words, “Care to use my umbrella, ma’am?”.
Romantic, isn’t it? Beautiful. It’d be nice if it happened something like that. If one minute you were alone, and then the next minute he was standing next to you, never to leave your side.
But it doesn’t happen like that—not usually, that is. Usually it’s not rain and trains and fields. Usually, it’s one word: CHURCH.
The surest direction to your “true love” is God’s house. If you want a man that puts God first, seek him where you expect him. I’m not saying that you can’t meet someone out of the church house, because that happens plenty, too.
But since you can’t possibly know where you might “bump into him”, the most practicable place to be is in church.