The Marriage Idol, Part 3

Reorienting Objectification

So what is “The Marriage Idol”?

In Part 1, I reframe the question with language of identity, with another question: What defines you? In Part 2, I define words like love, marriage, and idolatry, all which can help us understand the framework. The challenge of this, as with any complex subject, is to avoid oversimplification. Considering the diversity of the world, it is unavoidable to some extent. Nonetheless, I have invested time and space to unpack each major word and idea because each person frames them differently, even if only subtly so. Such is the frailty of identity; for each of us carries assumptions based on our personal history.

Subjectivity should not be feared, but rather recognized as a normal aspect of interacting as free-thinking human beings. While communicating from our various frameworks can be confounding, it can also be inspiring in the introduction to new ways of seeing. Without some awareness of our limitations, however, there is little room left in public discourse for compassion, peace, and unity—for an atmosphere of learning. By unity, I do not necessarily mean agreement, but rather a desire to understand before being understood, allowing each other space for our differences without filling that space with defensive barriers.

When focusing on the subject of marriage, therefore, each of our visions for marriage will vary based on the facets of our individual identities. Yet I have come to wonder if marriage is even the real subject here. Perhaps it is merely the façade of a deeper need (and potentially idol).

How is Marriage Advertised?

I suspect that the idea of marriage is idolized more than the actuality of marriage.

In 1759, the essayist Samuel Johnson said, “Promise, large promise, is the soul of an advertisement.”[1] So what does marriage promise? What images and/or ideas come to mind?

Think about it for a moment.

(Look away from this screen and draft your own initial conclusion.)

How one defines the promise of something reveals much of his or her identity. Communications professor Dr. Greg Spencer writes that “Advertising is successful because it links products with our identity. It defines the self in the context of a particular car or phone or style of vacation.” It can be quite subtle. For example, “the message is ‘Buy Extra gum,’ but the metamessage is ‘Extra gum is the way to romance.’” In other words, we are essentially “told two metamessages in almost every ad: ‘We are happy when we buy’ and ‘We are inadequate.’ . . . Advertising often convinces us that some nonmaterial good thing (love, success, happiness, etc.) can be acquired through material means (cars, beauty products, toilet paper). Coke means happiness. Dentyne gum promotes romance. Lingerie leads to sexual intimacy. Laundry soap leads to sexual intimacy. Computers, coffee, everything leads to sexual intimacy!”

Simply put, a marriage partner can be made into the “material means” for attaining a “nonmaterial good” like happiness, fulfillment, love, intimacy. While marriage can (and the healthy ones do) navigate and interconnect such needs, the danger is when marriage—or more to the point, a partner—is viewed as the direct means (i.e. object) to attaining them.[2]

Affirmation

What do these needs suggest about one’s identity? In conversations about romance, there can be a subtext about yearning for marriage or wanting it for someone else as way to resolve some form of loneliness and/or insecurity. Married and non-married people alike can talk this way. Yet promoting marriage as the answer to fundamental human needs not only places unhealthy expectations on a partner—and a tendency to idolize him or her, or even the relationship—but also risks perpetuating conflict due to a tendency to project one’s personal framework (e.g. language, expectations) onto the other’s identity.

Why does this happen? For one, it is unavoidable because each person’s framework is limited. But it is also because of an essential human need: affirmation. Affirmation is about giving “a heightened sense of value”, support, and/or validity to someone.[3] Without affirmation, one can feel barraged by a sense of isolation and loneliness: “Sadness because one has no friends or company; the quality of being unfrequented and remote.”[4]

Ultimately, without affirmation, one is vulnerable to fear, which can slowly distort a person’s view of possibilities: “What if life is always this way? What if this feeling never goes away?” Fear breeds insecurity, which can fracture identity and lead to faltering. Fear tempts one to rely too heavily on another person affirming one’s identity, or even to demanding that one’s identity be bestowed by that person. This is not just limited to a romantic partner, for co-dependency or emotional dependency can be witnessed in any kind of relationship, whether between lovers, friends, or family members.[5]

Granted, people do need to affirm one another. But when it is sought as the sole definer of self worth, the framework of identity can collapse further: “If I am not affirmed for who I am, does that I also mean I am not accepted? Will I ever be accepted? Will I ever be loved? If I am not loved, is something wrong with me? What do I do now?”

While there are various good responses to these difficult questions, my concern is that the “affirmation” of marriage is too often clung to as a primary solution—if not from one’s partner then perhaps from one’s children. It can become destructive, while on the surface first appearing constructive, to concentrate entirely on loving someone else, whether partner or child, in hopes of forgetting one’s loneliness. For this again can lead to emotional dependency.

FOMO

Our relationship with technology offers another window through which to understand the need for affirmation. Now, more than ever, influenced by advertising, our frameworks are dominated by comparison. Spencer writes, “We love to see what’s happening with our friends, but the comparison can drive any of us to the despair of not measuring up to others’ beauty, vacations, weddings, or picnic lunches in the backyard.”

With marriages crumbling into ruin as often as they are being reinforced and built up, with intimacy feeling more elusive than ever, technology is now sometimes sought as a new source of affirmation. In the context of marriage, are people turning increasingly to technology for affirmation as a result of disappointment with their spouses, turning from one false god to another?[6] Wu Song writes, “Even when we try to rest, we are restless, and we reach for our phones or tablets because our bodies and our imaginations have forgotten what else there is to reach for. . . . As Dalton Conley described, life is constantly ‘being lived elsewhere’ as our bodies are in one place, but our minds and consciousness are focused on the stuff of our screens. . . . flattening out and editing away our discomforts.”[7] Pointing back to our propensity for co-dependency, only now infused in our relationships with technology, Wu Song asks, “What types of desires do our compulsive digital practices encourage?” For example, do such practices ironically encourage greater isolation, i.e. time physically alone to focus on the emotional “togetherness” provided by technology?

Even if the idea of marriage to another person continues to churn one’s imagination, does the fear of missing out (FOMO) remain a form of motivation; this newly heightened by the comparison inherent to social media? Missing out on what those other people are enjoying—at least as it appears or is promoted with pictures and posts. Thus we return to my initial question: What does marriage promise?

As most can attest, technology usually proves to be a poor substitute for human connection. Most people realize this in their soul. Wu Song concludes, “Part of the trouble with our growing dependence on our socio-technological practices of friendship and community is the modern disregard for the fact that we are embodied persons who bring both physical presence and voice and are impinged upon by the human voice and physical presence of others.” In other words, while interacting with or through technology may be simpler—arguably less demanding; more a mirror to our identity than an autonomous, contrasting identity such as we find in relationship with other people—human relationships, while certainly more complicated, do remind us of our shared temporality: our living in the present, not alone but in community, all the while connected to the past (history) and future (hopes).

In Closing

The reality is that each of us will always be “missing out” on something. But what that is, and whether one cares about it, is subjectively defined. Though organizing and acting upon individual priorities is not a static experience, but rather ongoing, dynamic, evolving, and though the process can feel overwhelming at times, it is not to be feared. For there is someone who offers to save us from our frailty, who knows and values each of us for our true selves (Isaiah 43:1).

We need not fear loneliness. An antonym of loneliness is belonging, and belonging is fundamentally about true friendship. Loneliness begins to be fulfilled through belief in the message of Jesus Christ; that we are beloved children of God, a value shared with all humanity. Jesus heralds the fact that we are not alone; that God is with us and that His Spirit unites all who follow him. This perfect love “casts out all fear” (1 John 4:18) and has both individual and communal significance. Jesus said, “I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you” (John 15:15). Jesus connects our past, present, and futures with the only promise worth worshipping; that “[God] will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged” (Deuteronomy 31:8). “He is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer” (Psalm 18:2).

The marriage idol is not a new idea.[8] Therefore, I set out to process this subject not with a desire to provide concrete answers—if only I could—but rather cautions. More so, I aim to elevate awareness, to foster thoughtful discussion toward compassion, which begins with acknowledging the beauty and limits of identity.

So, whether you are single or married, I encourage you to be mindful of how you talk about marriage because how you talk about it reveals more about you than anything else. Consider the implications of your language.[9] For better or worse, richer or poorer, in sickness or in health, the language we use matters.

* * *

I will conclude with two questions. For those who know me, they are characteristically amorphous, a spectrum full of possible colors and tones. In a way they frame this entire series. In a way, they defy barriers.

1. Is marriage about two people adjusting to an idea or is it about adjusting that idea to themselves?
2. Is intimacy about completing one’s identity or sacrificing it?

What do you think?

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[1] Spencer, G. (2018) Reframing the Soul: How Words Transform Our Faith. Leafwood Publishers: Abilene, TX.

[2] Needs that only God can define and fulfill.

[3] Oxford English Dictionary. Available at: https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/affirm (Accessed 30 April, 2019).

[4] Oxford English Dictionary. Available at: https://en.oxforddictionaries.com/definition/loneliness (Accessed 9 October, 2018). See also Hengtee Lim’s “Love, Sex, and Loneliness.”

[5] See “When to Marry Someone” and Kris Gage’s “How Much to Give and Take in Relationships”

[6] See “Study: Americans are Having Less Sex than Ever.”

[7] Wu Song, F. (2018) “Recovering Presence and Place in the Digital Age: Sociological and Theological Reflections on Technology,” in The Westmont College Magazine, Spring 2018, pp.17-21. See also Sherry Turkle’s Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other.

[8] See “Have Christians Turned Marriage into an Idol?” by Tyler Daswick, “The Idol of Marriage” by Tyler Braun, and Breaking the Marriage Idol by Kutter Callaway (though I have not yet read the book).

[9] For example, Google “What not to say to singles.”

The Marriage Idol, Part 2

Reexamining some Ideas

In Part 1, I introduce the beautiful complexity of identity, suggesting its influence not only on self-image, but how an individual perceives others and how others in turn perceive that individual. As I began to write this second post[1], I realized that before I can present the heart of the matter, I should reexamine some ideas to further develop the context from which I am writing. These ideas are love, marriage, and idolatry.

What is Love?

Marriage at its healthiest and most inspiring cannot be understood detached from love. In fact, a meaningful human existence cannot exist without love. But what is love? Its most powerful manifestation is God (YHWH), in history made most tangible through Jesus of Nazareth, called Christ, who lived, died, and resurrected on earth as a particular man in a particular time in history (this concept summarized succinctly in Philippians 2:1-11). In short, God is love: “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love” (I John 4:7-8).

God’s love is ultimately a call to an intimate relationship with our Creator. In this, one is welcomed to a life of belonging—not only as a child of God, but an heir of His goodness. In this, one joins a global community called the Church, which echoes God’s Kingdom on earth through participating in His “Great Campaign.” This call offers an individual and communal purpose characterized by hope and meaning. I expound upon this in “What is Love?”, relate it more directly to my personal identity in “A Confession,” and consider its effectiveness in “Hunger vs.Ambition.”

Or as the apostle Paul of Tarsus writes, “Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends” (I Corinthians 13:4-8a).

Overall, it is important to remember that God chooses to love us, despite our frailty—our propensity for fear, selfishness, hurting ourselves and others. Choice. God’s love is a gift of immense grace. For those who choose to follow and emulate the sacrificial servant leadership of Jesus Christ, there is a call to love others in the same way.

What is Marriage?

As one writer expresses it so simply and profoundly: “You don’t fall in love. You discover it. Then it’s built” (see “No One Really Falls in Love”). Writer Benjamin Sledge adds his own honest perspective in “The Single Greatest Lesson We Should Know about Love (But Forgot).” Or Tim Keller might add, “You Never Marry the Right Person.”

Marriage does not just happen to someone, in other words. It is another example of choice.

I explore the idea of marriage extensively in my three-part series, “Why Marry Someone?” so will avoid restating it all here. In short, marriage is a consolidation of love’s many forms, such as compassion, friendship, and perhaps most uniquely, physical intimacy. Marriage represents a mysterious, intense expression of a particularly kind of relationship between two people. But it is not the only expression.

What is Idolatry?

The conceptual spark for my writing about “The Marriage Idol” was Josh Fox’s analysis of the Old Testament narrative of the Golden Calf (Exodus 32; 1 Corinthians 10:1-8).[2] It led me to reconsider certain experiences and conversations about marriage. From golden calf to romance—a strange progression, I know.

It is important to consider what an idol is. The Oxford English Dictionary begins to define idol as an “image or representation of a god used as an object of worship.” God is defined as “1. (in Christianity and other monotheistic religions) the creator and ruler of the universe and source of all moral authority; the supreme being; 2. (in certain other religions) a superhuman being or spirit worshipped as having power over nature or human fortunes; a deity; [or] 3.1. A thing accorded the supreme importance appropriate to a god.” The last definition is the broadest, but may be most helpful in this discussion. Furthermore, note that the verb, worship, means to “Show reverence and adoration for (a deity).”

In the orthodox Christian faith[3], God is to be directly worshipped as opposed to our worshipping some representation of Him. While there are icons and images portraying Jesus Christ or the narratives of the Bible, and while a Bible may be placed at the center of a church’s place of worship, all usually serve to remind and teach; they are not to be confused with idols. There are nuances that could be discussed about iconography, church architecture, and liturgy, but that exceeds the scope of this current writing.

In short, for the Christ-follower at least, to worship anything other than God as preeminent is to slip into idolatry. In a broader sense, it is about considering what my identity is grounded on.

For example, in the story of the Golden Calf, a majority of the Israelites invest in a shifty lie that lingers today—that God is holding out on me or us. As happened to the Israelites—in this story impatient and uncertain about Moses’ return from Mt. Sinai—this can lead to rushing God’s timing and/or to settling for less than His best, substituting Him with something else, which concurrently attempts to rob God of His glory. Granted, it can be difficult to accept a delay to personal hopes and expectations. Instead of trusting God, it is tempting to turn to something more tangible or that seems controllable. It can be hard to trust God, especially when it is difficult to understand His will. It is nice to be in control.

So in a way, idolatry is about control. In the tension between faith and fear, there is a struggle for control. Granted, some idols develop from things God intended to be good. Some common ones may be romantic love when distorted by the lie that it completes me, money when masquerading as a means to attain personal security, and success when it comes to define my worth. Perhaps even identity itself can be idolized. For how many people obsess over their image, physical or digital when provided the means to change, curate, customize and/or edit how they are each presented (e.g. on social media)?

To avoid the snare of idolatry, we are called to remember what God is like—namely, that He is not one to hold out on us. After all, the good news (gospel) of Jesus Christ is that God gave all of himself to free and protect us from our own limitations, corrupting excuses, frailty (see John 3:16-21).

God’s love proposes the truest of marriages: intimacy with our Creator. To reject this love is to choose something other than God for meaning. As God is the origin of all that is good, to reject Him is, therefore, perhaps to settle for an imitation of good. It is to choose an idol.

But that is not exactly what I mean by “The Marriage Idol.” While it could be a start to understanding why so many marriages crumble, including in the Church, I have something subtler in mind, and more related to being single or how people engage with those who are. While to reject God is the most self-destructive choice a person can make, for his or her past, present, and future; there may be a social trend that is proving almost as damaging to individual identity.

Read the Final Part

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[1] Originally, I only intended for there to be one post for this whole idea.

[2] “The Call” (Part 12). Sermon at WestGate Church on 22 July, 2018. Available at: http://www.westgatechurch.org/westgate-teaching/thecall-week12.

[3] Orthodox = “Following or conforming to the traditional or generally accepted rules or beliefs of a religion, philosophy, or practice” (Oxford English Dictionary).

The Marriage Idol, Part 1

Re-Introducing Identity

What defines you?

Before reading on, I encourage you to actually think about this question—to look away from your laptop or put down your smart phone. Try to detach from your surroundings for at least sixty seconds and bask in a moment of silent, contemplative solitude. Time yourself. An actual minute can feel long, even intimidating. But try. Truly think about the question.

(Nope, do not read ahead yet.)

What ideas came to the forefront of your thoughts?

Did your self-image begin with your external features—face, eyes, hair, body type, and whether you are satisfied with them? Did you think of your gender, race, or social class? What about your job, family, relational status, religion, or dreams for the future? Did you consider your place in time and space?

The nature of the original question is about identity, about the characteristics that make each of us unique. It is not only about self-image, but self worth. It is ultimately about being aware of how we present ourselves and are received. It is about confidence and choice.

In a common conversation, the subject of identity would probably not be broached in this way. Furthermore, to get to know someone, the leading question(s) will usually vary depending on the other’s life stage. For example: “What is your name?” and “How old are you?” might begin an interaction with a child. Later as a high school student, that child may be asked about her favorite subject or extracurricular endeavor; while specifically as a senior being pressed about what she wishes to study, and at what university. “Where are you from?” and “What’s your major?” might begin the conversation among her first-year college peers; and then “What are you going to do next?” can burden the approach to graduation.

Do you notice a thematic shift in these questions?

Granted, this example presumes a society where gender equality is fundamentally honored, both in educational and vocational opportunities. Moreover, note that though gender, race, and social class are important aspects of identity, I want to steer away from delving too deeply into their nuanced implications. In other words, while I appreciate their influence, my focus in this writing aims to be broader, as I began to do five years ago with my post, “What is Identity?”

So, consider further with me my example of questions posed to a maturing young woman: Immersed in “post-theoretical” life, or what some misleadingly call “the real world”—either way, referring to no longer being a student in a formal academic institution—our imagined heroine might be met with questions about what she does, which almost always implies profession. Yet among family, and particularly Christian church environments, another question often accompanies or is the subtext to such questions. Expressed in a variety of ways, they essentially drive at relational status (e.g. Are you married? Do you have a boyfriend? Are you seeing/pursuing/interested in anyone?). If the answer is “No,” then for the bolder or brasher inquisitor, the next question may be “Why not?”

It is on this last theme of questioning that I wish to linger.

Of course, there are a myriad of ways that a person can navigate these questions; and the tone of such—friendly or defensive, honest or evasive—will be framed by the context of trust between the people involved in conversation. In the family and church contexts, being married and having children, at least by a certain age, seem to be received as the more acceptable or understandable response. That can be true for certain vocational pursuits as well, but that is another theme.

In this writing, I aim to drawn our focus on how relational status influences self-image and “social-image” (i.e. how others perceive and receive oneself). It is interesting how being single or unmarried raises a distinct line of questioning, voiced or not, that differ from those related to being married. For the most part, this is normal and to be expected.

But as we prepare to investigate this theme of identity further, it is important not to lose track of the initial question: What defines me? But from that, I also want to ask: How do I define other people? These are the underlying questions. For how one answers the first influences how one answers the second.

Are any of the aforementioned questions inherently wrong? No, not necessarily. I am not really interested in making moral judgments. Rather, I am interested in building awareness; that we not only understand ourselves better (i.e. individual identity), but also the influence of identity on human interaction. That there seems to be a thematic shift in approaching identity as someone ages, particularly as it concerns relational status.

The layers of identity not only thicken with life experience, but perhaps subtly direct our attention from intrinsic to extrinsic markers. Put more simply: as we age, identity seems to transition from being centered on origin (e.g. I am a child of this family), personal strengths and interests (e.g. personality) to vocational, marital, and parental statuses. So for those who are married, identity returns to a kind of original framework: family. Not that one can ever fully dissociate from a biological family identity. As one’s parents get older, for example, the reality of being a son or daughter takes on additional meaning. Still, unlike being a child whose life is mainly orchestrated by her parents; as a more independent adult, the biological family identity can experience some tension with the additional layers, especially those related to vocation. This may be because a career offers its own definitions of security, purpose, and even family (in the broader sense). Many people struggle to resolve this tension between family and career. However, I would challenge views that define the struggle as being a simple choice between one or the other. The sources and reasons for tensions in identity are difficult to summarize. Each life has a myriad of variables, and rarely do they allow nicely compartmentalized moral conclusions.

Yet there is still another facet to consider. If there is or can be a return to an “original” sense of self (i.e. that of a child), it seems the most common bridge—a means for connection, even balance—is the search for God, for a transcendent meaning, security, and purpose. I consider this further in “What is Identity?”

Overall, the layers of identity can perhaps be organized under three main themes: family, vocation, and spirituality. None can be dissociated from the others, however; like the relationship between past, present, and future.

Do you begin to grasp the beautiful complexity of all this?

Understanding identity—not to mention the idea of communal identity—becomes more complicated when we realize how we project ourselves onto others, consciously or not. After all, we are limited beings. Therefore, it is natural to interpret the world through our personal or subjective frame of vision. This is not only about how we see and interprets the world (physically and cognitively: knowledge)—what could be called a relationship between present and past—but how we perceive reality and maintain (accept), improve (build upon), or alter (rebel against, reconstruct) that reality, both at an individual and societal scale. In these last opportunities, there is creation: an adopted view of the future united with present and past. Identity is, therefore, also influenced by our relationship with time (temporality): what we know, believe, and hope for. In this, time can be thought of as a thread that unites our three themes of identity: family, vocation, and spirituality.

But enough abstraction. What does this have to do with the marriage? And what is “The Marriage Idol”?

This re-introduction of the broader notions of identity is intended to provide a conceptual context for interpreting the influence of marriage on one’s self-image and self worth.

Read Part 2

But before I proceed, I would value your feedback (please select one of the following):

1. A Question for those who are single.
2. A Question for those who are married or in a relationship.

Not to Walk Alone, Part 3

The following is Part 3 in a series of four posts about my recent experience on the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail). Read Part 1 and Part 2. Each part has been adapted from journal entries written in the wild. The date and time listed are when the journal entry was originally written.

Revelation of Loneliness?

10 June, 2018: Sunday

c.18:00—Deep Creek [PCT Mile 304 (Mileage Today: 17.5)]

Due to the fullness and intensity of yesterday (June 9), I decided to just go to bed at 22:00 instead of journaling. Now cleaned up for the evening, I will account for the day.

Two nights ago, at Arrastre Creek, someone hiked past my camp around 23:00; otherwise, the next activity was around 5:50 yesterday morning when Bill and Candice came by. Bill’s voice, excited about the stream, was unmistakable. I rose soon after, surprised by how cold it was outside. I felt poor as a result, hands struggling with numbness. I ate a somewhat heavy breakfast, knowing I would be re-supplied in a few hours by Andrew & Meghan.

(Note: I have decided to generally avoid eating dry granola on the trail—it takes too long to chew and just doesn’t sit right in my stomach.)

Setting out from Arrastre Creek, it was not long before I was stopped by what seems to be my new morning poop routine. By then, the temperature was warm enough to strip down to my normal hiking layers: boonie, synthetic t-shirt, and swim shorts.

Hiking along Nelson Ridge provided grand views of waterless Baldwin Lake as well as the hills, mountains, and valleys descending east and northeast to the barren desert region of Lucerne Valley. While it was impressive to look out upon, I would not want to be down in it. Along the way, I caught Bill and Candice, which made me happy. I wanted to be able to say goodbye. We ultimately finished our descent to Highway 18 together where Pancake was already waiting for his wife in the shade of a tree. Andrew & Meghan had already arrived.

Saying farewell to my PCT companions, having yo-yoed these previous days, was bittersweet. Pancake’s wife arrived soon, after which I said a reluctant goodbye to all, knowing I wouldn’t see them again because they each planned to spend the night in Big Bear. I am thankful for the moments we shared together, ever reminded that it is the community that draws me to the PCT as much as the landscape.

Andrew, Meghan, and I drove into Big Bear for a hearty brunch of Mexican food at Hacienda Grill. First we stopped at a local CVS for some super glue, with which I hope to patch my pillow tonight. Brunch was delicious: chips with a variety of salsas (Hacienda Grill has a salsa bar) and then tasty carne asada. The caloric value alone would prove essential later. Otherwise, I was thankful for the 2.5 hour break with Andrew & Meghan. Being back in “civilization”, however, or “the poor man’s Tahoe” as Andrew calls Big Bear, I realized that I am not ready to return—especially to what can seem like an aura of general social boredom and escapism through material things. My spirit was still in the serenity of the wilderness, the simplicity of the backpacking life.

Re-supplied, I was dropped back off at the PCT-Highway 18 intersection. Having already completed about 8 miles earlier, I intended to hike only 9 more miles. Near Doble, I had to make an anticipated detour to avoid last year’s burn area. I took a left turn on a dirt road, but it proved to be a turn too soon, which dead-ended. Fortunately, a mine provided me a geographical reference, visible up through the charred trees. Therefore, I determined to just ascend the steep hillside to reach Road 3N16.

A mother and her two children were at the side of the road above the mine surveying the fire damage, the former saying something about how her husband (the children’s father) had been involved as a firefighter. Progressing along dusty Road 3N16, most four-wheelers courteously slowed down with a nod as they passed (to reduce dust washing over me), to which I nodded in gratitude, offering them the peace sign. The eventual ascent back to the PCT via an unnamed jeep road was brutal. At the top, however, I was rewarded with views north across the desert while the PCT progressed west. Concerned that Caribou Creek might not have water, I rationed as best as I could.

When I arrived at Caribou Creek, everything was clearly dry, but I felt a pang of hope at the sight of a water cache. That feeling was immediately absorbed as I realized that there was only a trickle left in one jug. Tired, having covered about 17 miles so far for the day, I sat for a rest. My water was about gone. Fortunately, I thought to eat one of my clementines, which revived my spirit and body. I knew or resolved to press ahead, knowing that I had 11 miles to go before reaching Little Bear Spring Trail Camp. Though there was about 700 feet of climbing to do, the steady 5-mile descent to the camp afterward made the endeavor seem possible. Still, I knew that it would be taxing and that I would arrive after dusk.

Thankfully, the path’s conditions were generally smooth. I began my ascent just as another PCT hiker (who I later learned is called “Yellow Toe”) was dropped off at the PCT-Van Dusen Canyon Road junction. I did not see him after that crossing, distinct with his small travel guitar strapped to his pack. Meanwhile, I found a deep reserve of strength within myself, buffered by feet sparing me problems as well as a few glorious views of Big Bear Lake and distant Mount San Gorgonio. Also a blessing was a small water cache halfway through, this time with water. I filled up a half liter, not wanting to be greedy in case someone behind me was also desperate.

The grandest sight met me as I rounded the bend of Delamar Mountain. The canyons and hills holding Holcomb Creek were illuminated with golden twilight, layers behind layers like waves descending to the San Gabriel Mountains beyond Cajon Pass, the destination of my journey. Truly an inspiring sight.

I spotted two hikers ahead, and ultimately caught them just as the young woman was scratching her completely exposed butt. (She appeared to be hiking in a sports skirt of some kind.) I was a little ways back at that point, so delayed actually catching up to them to prevent any potential awkwardness. When I did catch them, I recognized the couple I had seen hitchhiking outside Hacienda Grill in Big Bear.

[Pause for some much-needed dinner.]

20:10—(Same Location)

Dusk is peaceful here. I may be the first to have camped at this spot. It is a boulder field with sand, likely a flood bank from when the river overflows in late winter or early spring. I have seen many hikers pass above me—my camp is below the trail—ascending to disappear around the bend of the western shoulder that overlooks my position. Most hikers are in pairs or groups of three. It makes me feel a bit lonely. I wonder where they’re planning to camp tonight, for I know of no place for about 10 miles, if even that. I heard some talk about the Hot Springs at Mile 308, but allegedly there’s no camping permitted within a mile of it. Still, I get this sense like everyone’s going to a party, and that I’m missing it. I was very tempted to continue after exploring this creek bed—which required a hundred meter off-trail descent via the hint of a path that someone has made. The allure of discovering what is just around the bend is powerful. But it was too much of a gamble. If the Hot Springs, only 4 miles away, proves closed to camping, I definitely am too weary to push on another 6+ miles. My body is exhausted from yesterday (more on that in a moment).

I had hoped to camp at a creek side day use area this evening, but an obvious sign forbids it in order to preserve the habitat of a rare frog that is in a delicate state of repopulation. I saw a few in the water at the site. Moreover, the day use area is popular with off-roaders and their indelicate treatment of the surroundings and raucous behavior. Hiking most of this afternoon along a ravine, I am thankful for this spot, which is 3 miles farther than the day use area. Unsure whether I’d have to dry camp (i.e. have no water source nearby), I filled up my entire 2-liter “dirty” reservoir (for unfiltered water) at the day use area. Having hidden my pack up a hill behind a rock so that I wouldn’t have to descend and then ascend the dusty dirt road with it, once reunited, I then proceeded to carry the full bladder against my neck on my shoulder like a precious lamb. Having the cool water against my neck was quite nice, actually. I soon filtered the water at a gully bridge (Mile 302).

[It’s getting dark outside, and my headlamp is being frustratingly problematic again.]

Returning to yesterday evening, I was discouraged that the faucet was off at Little Bear Spring Trail Camp. There was another camper further down the trail, Jeff, who was very kind, giving me about a half liter of water and a small bag of gummy snacks—“For the extra vitamins” he said. He is attending UC Irvine and likes to come up about every weekend. I smelled weed at his camp, and noticed an alcoholic beverage beside him. I said farewell, determined to find water at the next trailside camp only a mile away.

This was all after conferring about the faucet with the PCT couple I had passed a while earlier, during which I must have seemed strange having run swiftly from Jeff without my pack and then dashed back. Nonetheless, it felt so good to run, surprisingly energizing.

Click Map to Enlarge

At last, as darkness began to settle, I reached a [German?] couple camping at WRCSO287. Before meeting them, I saw “H20—>” written with pine cones, so dropped my pack and proceeded to explore a rocky creek bed, but found nothing. (My appearing in the shadows and then vanishing led the female camper to question her sanity and feel a bit creeped out. She admitted this later.) The [German] couple was kind, and was acquainted with the other couple hiking behind me who soon arrived. The male [German] showed us to the lingering puddles of water further up the rocky creek bed, which was fortunately more than enough for all of us. I talked with “Moon”—my unofficial nickname to the female hiker, for reasons outlined earlier—learned that her male hiking partner is Danish and that she is from or has lived in Santa Cruz.

I did not get to speak much more with them. It was dark, so we promptly set up camp, ate, and completed our personal camp routines. Moon and the Dane “cowboy camped” (i.e. slept without a tent), which I felt less inclined to doing having seen (and killed, I’m somewhat ashamed to admit) a scorpion and sizeable black spider while I ate dinner. Moon and the Dane didn’t seem too concerned, though, instead quite happy with each other. I went to bed a little while later, weary from having covered 28 miles, which is my new day record.

This morning, I woke at the usual 6:00 timeframe. The [German] couple had left about twenty minutes earlier. I rose when Moon and the Dane were about to depart. It was another cool morning. Not planning to hike as far, I took my time, enjoying the atmosphere. After all, that is one of my favorite parts of backpacking, and I must remember why I’m here. Being around thru-hikers awakes a certain competitiveness within me. More so, it is the desire to join their company, however.

Following Holcomb Creek further from the mountains was nice, especially the views of Lake Arrowhead in the distance and the looming San Gabriel Mountains. But while my spirit began the day enthusiastically (still needed a poop stop, though), my body quickly admitted its weariness. As a result, my pace seems to have been a bit slower. I seem to average about 3 miles/hour with breaks, 3.5 if feeling solid, and 4 if consciously pushing it, though that taxes the body pretty thoroughly.

At one point, I passed some late risers, talked briefly with one called “Balloons.” They had arrived to their campsite late last night, but Balloons said “F— it”, hopeful about meeting some “Weekenders” at the Hot Springs today, hopeful to be offered a beer. Balloon was very chill. I think I smelled weed. I later passed the [German] couple (actually, I learned that the female is from Switzerland—I cannot remember their names). The German was struggling to break in new hiking boots, his old ones dangling from his pack. I’m not sure if they’re still behind me. I didn’t see them at the Splinter’s Cabin Junction, so Balloons and his entourage must have also passed them; for I think I spotted Balloons hike by my camp area not long ago.

Anyway, marked by a large bridge, Splinter’s Cabin Junction, and many points along Deep Creek, are popular with day visitors or weekenders. As I arrived, very ready for a break, I spotted Moon and the Dane with two other female twenty-somethings. Moon and one of the other young women were sunbathing topless. Where they were all perched looked crowded, so I settled on a large nearby sand beach—this after offering a Hello and some comment about this creek crossing being a small slice of paradise. I hope they don’t think I was being sheepish about the nudity. Having grown up in Europe, it does not seem that strange. In retrospect, I should have just crossed the creek a settled where they had set their gear.

Regardless, Splinter’s Cabin Junction provided a refreshing and much-needed 1.5 hour break. I soaked my feet, washed off the dirt, and briefly napped. I couldn’t help but be amused observing a boisterous man, his Latina girlfriend (presumably), and her three kids. The latter really didn’t want to be submerged in the water, but the adults were trying to coax them into doing so as a demonstration of their readiness to camp this evening. There were a fair amount of tears from the children, but some eventually succumbed to parent pressure.

As the other PCT hikers departed, I thought I should too, even with only a few miles (or so I first thought) to go. I knew there could be an issue with my first target, the day use area, so I wanted to allow ample time and daylight to adapt. I left the creek junction at about 14:40. The Dane, Moon, and Balloon’s entourage were talking at one end of the bridge, clearly familiar with each other. Once again, I didn’t feel like intruding, even felt a bit old as they all seem in their young twenties. But now I kind of wish I had paused to at least enter the conversation for a moment.

I sometimes feel out of place, not being a thru-hiker. The thru-hiking community is unique, but I do not belong to it as a section hiker. Not that thru-hikers really judge non thru-hikers in that way, but there is a sense of heightened transience being a section hiker, knowing that we would only see each other at most for a few days. Being part of the PCT thru-hiking community remains my greatest draw to attempt another thru-hike.

Click Map to Enlarge

In the end, I powered on to select this site. Here I am.

At sunset, two [female?] hikers stopped to sit on the trail west above me to enjoy the view I unfortunately couldn’t really see from my camp. I’m not sure if they saw me, though I tried waving, but nonetheless felt a pang of wanting to be up there with them. Some company would be welcome. It has been a tiring last two days. Progressing with reasonable mileage, I should complete this section in two and a half days. For now, I need rest.

Camping next to a creek, it is curious how running water sometimes echoes with what sounds like people’s voices. I noticed that for the first time when backpacking in Yosemite National Park. Is that a real sensation or is it just a revelation of loneliness?

Read Part 4

Not to Walk Alone, Part 1

The following is Part 1 in a four-part series about my recent experience on the PCT (Pacific Crest Trail). Each part has been adapted from journal entries written in the wild. The date and time listed are when the journal entry was originally written.

Prologue

29 May, 2018: Tuesday

9:36—San Jose, California

I have much to process from this last year—so far my most stressful, demanding experience of time. This last year has aged me, taken a holistic toll. Yet there have been blessings, lessons, and provision. God has strengthened me for each day, week, and month. Hallelujah.

Yet it is time to reflect in the beauty of solitude.

I will go to South Lake Tahoe first for a few days of rest. Tahoe is one of my favorite places in the world. I will then journey south mainly via Highway 395, which follows along the eastern feet of the Sierra Nevada mountain range, including past Mono Lake. I am excited to travel an unfamiliar route, ultimately rendezvousing with my friends Andrew & Meghan in Yucaipa, California.

The PCT beckons me.

I am uncertain. I will hike it, certainly, but will it feel like running a gauntlet as in the past? I am taking great effort to pack as light as possible, to give my body a better chance. I will also be more mindful of pacing myself. Andrew will meet me at one or two points for re-supply, which will help disperse food weight during my seven to nine days on the trail. I am going to try my old neutral running shoes (New Balance RC1400s) in my ongoing quest to better preserve my feet; though their having already logged 700 running miles may make that statement ironic. I also may not bring cooking gear, but just eat cold food to save weight.

Possibilities.

I want to enjoy this hike. Perhaps a paradox, I pray that the hike is refreshing—of soul at least. The ease of my five-mile hike with Matthew on Saturday in Russian Ridge Open Space Preserve heartened me. More so, my time in the Word yesterday, Memorial Day, reminded me that God is near:

“I remember the days of old; I mediate on all that you have done; I ponder the work of your hands. I stretch out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like a parched land. . . . Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love, for in you I trust. Make me know the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul. . . . Let your good Spirit lead me on level ground” (Psalm 143:5-6, 8, 10b).

“The Lord replied, ‘My Presence will go with you, and I will give you rest” (Exodus 33:14). “This gives us courage: We never have to walk alone” (Riekert Botha, An Anchor for the Soul).

God is my companion when no one else chooses to, dares to, or does not understand. Thus past, present, and future join—a mysterious temporality.

Amen.

Beginning

8 June, 2018: Wednesday
20:57—Fork Mission Creek [PCT Mile 231.4*  (Mileage Today: c.23)]
*I started at PCT Mile 210

(Click Map to Enlarge)

Aside from a clogged water filter—likely from calcium buildup, which with some research I learned could be cleaned by periodically soaking the filter in vinegar followed by backwashing—I have never felt more excited, confident, and ready to hike a PCT section. I want to enjoy this experience, this gift.

I am quite tired, and a bit hungry, but feel great lying on top of my down feather sleeping bag and air pad, having covered a lot of ground today. I am ready to sleep.

Side Note: a dinner of two tortillas, each with a slice of pepper jack cheese, spinach, and peppered beef jerky, followed by a Snicker’s Bar, is delicious.

This morning, I woke comfortably and casually at Andrew & Meghan’s house in Yucaipa at 6:50. Andrew and I left at 8:15. Having feasted heartily the last two nights on Mexican cuisine, and a breakfast of crepes this morning, I visited the restroom about four times before hiking today, including a brief gas station stop near Cabazon. (Taking advantage of plumbing and abundant toilet paper, in other words. #BackpackingLife)

Driving on deteriorating roads in what my PCT guidebook calls “West Palm Springs Village,” Andrew and I parked at the gate at the end of Boulder Drive. We backtracked on the PCT to find the trail register, but there was ultimately nothing to find. I figured that it had to do with being late in the PCT thru-hiking season. Most thru-hikers should be in the Sierras by now.

Andrew joined me for the first mile out on my journey. I welcomed his company and conversation, but had to say goodbye when he reached as far as he dared without water. He left me just before the trail reaches the Mesa Wind Farm.

I hiked alone, feeling strong at a relaxed pace, appreciating a few hours of gusty wind until I detoured a half mile to visit the Whitewater Preserve. The Preserve is an oasis in the desert. I met a ranger, signed the PCT registry, and then enjoyed the Preserve’s piped water and cool wading pool. Sitting in the shade, refreshed, I enjoyed lunch (two Cliff Bars) while reclining on the short stone wall of a bridge. Overall, a lovely place.

The remainder of the day, 13:30 until about 19:00, was quite warm (probably the mid 90s F). Most of it was invested crossing the Whitewater River region, ascending and descending ridges with views of Mount San Jacinto to the south and Mount San Gorgonio to the north. In some areas, the wind blew so hard that I had to work to keep my hat on. As the sun dipped below the canyon ridges, I welcomed the shade.

A highlight of the day was meeting some PCT thru-hikers, which I did not expect. I came across the first group at the Whitewater River crossing at Red Dome. They are three friends from high school in Philadelphia who just graduated college. A guy from Ohio was ultimately also hiking with them, though I did not learn this until further up the trail. I mainly talked with Christian, but unfortunately have forgotten the others’ names. We yo-yoed a few times this afternoon, including at the first Fork Mission Creek campsite where I took a first dinner break (second dinner was this evening at camp).

At that same site, a couple going at a slower pace also caught up with me as I was preparing to set forth again. I had passed them a few miles back during a ridge ascent. At that first trailside meeting, the young woman offered to share their shade, but I graciously declined. Reunited at the creek, lingering in the shade, I learned that the man has hiked the AT (Appalachian Trail). We had a pleasant conversation. They stayed back as I continued up the trail.

I had also caught a young hiker named Dan earlier on the ridge before descending to Fork Mission Creek while he slowed to text home. He passed me again shortly after as I took a brief break to air my feet and duct tape the hot spots on my heels (which worked well, I might add). I officially met him later, miles further upstream along Fork Mission Creek, when I conferred with him about our location on the map. I had become slightly confused about my exact location on the route, having hiked ahead about 400 meters to scout for a campsite before backtracking to Dan’s camp thinking he might be at Fork Springs. Scrutinizing the terrain in comparison to the contour map, we determined that such was not the case, so I pressed on. I bid Dan goodnight, and ultimately settled for this nice spot this evening. I passed the “Philadelphia Boys” (as I have come to call them) along the way while they were soaking in a pool. They passed me again after I had set up camp.

It has been a relaxing evening, trying to regain a sense of camp routine. It is always refreshing to wash the dust of the trail off with cold creek water (finishing with a wet wipe is quite satisfying). My feet are looking good. Alas, my air pillow may have a hole. Time to tend to it, stretch, massage some sore areas, and sleep.

Thank you, LORD, for a solid first day. Amen.

Read Part 2

Hunger vs. Ambition

Our mission as disciples of Jesus Christ is not faithfulness—the method is faithfulness—but to be fruitful. In Jesus’ parable about the talents (Matthew 25:14-30), it is fruitfulness that garners affirmation from the Master. For even the servant who buried his talent was faithful in protecting the investment. It is just that he did not steward its growth.

A life of faithfulness without fruitfulness is, in other words, a passive existence. Jesus calls his disciples, therefore, to a life of hunger. Hunger is “a craving or urgent need for [something]” (Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary). It is about being hungry for more of God, pressing further into the center of His presence. Pressing more into him, we become more fruitful.

What does it mean to be fruitful in following Jesus? To begin with, “the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22-23).

Faithfulness in the presence of God begets fruitfulness—connecting not only with Him, but with other people through His Spirit—which in turn begets more faithfulness.

Hunger is not to be confused with ambition, however. Ambition is defined as “an ardent desire for rank, fame, or power; desire to achieve a particular end; a desire for activity or exertion” (Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary), which often is about circumnavigating the presence of God in an aim for acclaimed productivity. For example, when leadership only measures its church’s growth or the effectiveness of its ministry techniques quantitatively, which is also an exercise that tempts ego, there is a great risk of neglecting God as the compass—not to mention overlooking the more mysterious, subjective, and qualitative wonders of human relationship (i.e. spiritual fruit).

The journey of Jesus Christ’s disciples and Church, therefore, must principally be to press ever further into the heart of God. Hunger looks to engage in relationship, in presence, in encounter—faithfulness. But pursing the presence of God is only the first part of the story. It must lead to fruitfulness to find wholeness. Relationship with God must lead to relationship with others, ripe with all the blessings that Paul addresses in Galatians 5:22-23. For when that happens, life brightens like a sunrise with renewed purpose and beauty.

Soli deo gloria. Amen.

Inspired by Andy Robinson's sermon, “Called to Fruitfulness” (Kings Church Horsham, 9 April, 2017).

When to Marry Someone

Of course, the literal date of a marriage ceremony is usually determined by a myriad of factors subjective to the lives of the affianced couple (e.g. preferred season of the year, work responsibilities, availability of family, venue, etc.).

What I am interested in asking, however, precedes that discussion. I want to know what brought a couple to the point of proposing and saying “Yes,” to the confidence of committing to that most binding of relationships called marriage. Simply put, the question asks, “Why now?” which is meant to welcome a holistic discussion—one that presumes the presence of a very conscious choice in the matter.

The fact that not everyone can specifically answer the question is both curious and sometimes disheartening.

Granted, there can and probably should be a subconscious instinct sparking the choice. It could be called inspiration, an indescribable sense of goodness or rightness in the relationship. It could be interpreted as an affirmation of the heart, a feeling or even spiritual influence. For the Christ-follower, that inspiration could be deemed a sense of revelation or divine blessing (guidance). It could be called faith: being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see (Hebrews 11:1).

While this less conscious layer of choice is certainly valuable, it seems more trustworthy when grounded on firmer, deeper-rooted affirmations about the relationship—from the couple’s community and absolutely from how their love is growing in friendship and intimacy. These foundations help answer the question, Why marry someone?

However, the When still remains, and should not be ignored. Aside from the more peripheral variables included in stage of life—and without addressing here the subjects of dating or cohabitation—the title question should be approached conscious of personal wounds—whether relational, emotional, or spiritual—and their healing.

Healing
The journey of healing can be difficult and winding, and is certainly unique to each person’s story. While I will not address the nature of that journey here, it seems healthiest for one’s wounds to at least have begun to heal before marrying someone. It is not that simple, of course, but that is the ideal.

A wound left to fester, ignored or buried, is dangerous to the relationship. It is dangerous because it can infect the marriage with fear, too often driving one toward self-made and self-serving bastions founded on ego (i.e. pride). Unchecked by humility, active awareness, forgiveness, reconciliation, and unity toward win-win outcomes, fear and ego will rot love to the core of the relationship—every pillar of friendship and intimacy. Too often intimacy is the first to suffer the torturously slow or bitter relational collapse. From there, the likelihood of marital ruin tragically increases.

Whatever shape the fear takes, rooted in whatever wound—whether a feeling of abandonment, loneliness, or insecure identity, for example—it must be identified for healing to begin. Fortunately, the stirring hope and power of a relationship is how it can expose one’s wounds and fears to the light.

For example, what about the other person or about your relationship triggers a sense of anxiety in you? What triggers frustration? These kinds of triggers can help point to the need for healing.

More specifically, in communication, are there times when you or the other is deafened to truly listening? Have you found yourself filling in a conversation, assuming the outcome before it even happens or despite what the other person is actually saying? What fear or stronghold of pride does this attitude echo?

Overall, healing must begin personally—between oneself and God—before it can expand relationally with the greatest strength. Otherwise, the relationship is at risk of having one person rely too much on the other or the relationship itself for meaning, which is too large a burden for any one person to bear. Any one person, that is, except Jesus Christ. Only God can provide that kind of transformation—that kind of love.

Deal Breaker
By the gracious power of God, healing is always possible. But it is not always so with that particular person.

A trigger can take the form of a “red flag” in the relationship, a characteristic cautioning of a surmountable or insurmountable barrier on the way toward intimacy. One’s significant other could directly or indirectly influence it; or it may be entirely separate, rooted in another relationship or experience, such as with a family member. I am not referring to the obvious problems, such as a propensity to verbal or physical abuse, which should likely be immediate deal breakers, but rather to more nuanced concerns that may materialize, such as hints of insecurity, irresponsibility, or indecisiveness. Still, each of the latter “red flags” can become a “deal breaker”, a reason to end the relationship. But not always.

The essence of love is selfless sacrifice. Therefore, if one or both in the relationship are unwilling to engage his or her wounds, if one or both are unwilling to seek healing and grow, the relational foundation will not be not strong enough to support a marriage. Therefore, until that trajectory of change begins to occur, it is probably best not to marry—at least not yet.

While I understand the intent behind the saying that each of us should just be accepted for who we are, the idea is too often used to justify immaturity—for selfishness, doing things the way one wants to do them. With “red flags”, I am not talking about personality, but integrity of character.

Now, it can be dangerous to enter a relationship with the agenda to change someone, for only God can truly transform a person. The strongest love is inspired by the goal of growing together, and personal growth connotes change in the depths of each person’s being. It is both a gradual and subtle maturation, and another full subject.

How long one should wait for another to change—to heal, reframe, and/or be free from a burden—is a difficult question, and one with its own series of subjective responses. Regardless, a lack of growth will surely stagnate a relationship. Furthermore, waiting indefinitely for change while enduring an unhealthy relationship may suggest another wound that needs healing (e.g. fear of being alone).

In Conclusion
Again, it is difficult to address the subject in broad terms. My point is that an unwillingness to grow individually as well as relationally most often indicates a relationship unprepared for marriage. More so, it suggests a relationship that may not be approaching marriage seriously or with awareness. Such unwillingness and unconsciousness may even be cause for a break in the relationship, whether temporary or permanent, to reexamine motives and priorities.

There are many facets to consider in each scenario. But the truth is that the state of one’s heart and mind, one’s state of maturation and being mended, is a fundamental indicator that the timing is healthy and good for a relationship to enter marriage.

For without an awareness of our need for growth, and actions that demonstrate that understanding, how can a marriage hope to succeed? Without that kind of intentionality, the couple chooses a more trying road. Marriage is challenging enough when the couple has found or begun to find healing, when it is intentional about personal growth and sacrifice. So why plummet into marriage with extra burdens, handicaps, and risks?

This discussion is about the timing of marriage. It is about making a thoughtful holistic decision to say “I do.” Whatever relational stage each of us is in, whether married or unmarried, may we all find the healing we need. May we all grow in the awareness and capacity to love. And may we together identify the important questions to ask.