A friend and I were talking today and somehow we got onto the topic of relationships. We are both frustrated/annoyed with the opposite sex. (Oddly enough, this didn’t hinder the conversation even though he’s a guy.) He told me he couldn’t figure girls out and that’s what was annoying him. I told him that I had guys figured out and that’s what was annoying me. He wasn’t convinced so I told him I knew what drove guys. Basically, sex.

He asked if that’s what I thought drove him. I said I didn’t know. I don’t think so but time usually tells.

He then asked what I thought drove him. I said hopefully his relationship with Jesus. Even in a relationship with a girl, that should be his driving force. If he strives to be like Jesus and honor Him, he will honor the girl in the process. A girl would be safe with Jesus so she would be safe with him.

Of course this lead to my thoughts wandering. I started thinking about safety. Why is it so important? Why is that something I long for? I want to feel safe. I want to know that I have nothing to fear in the presence of men (or women for that matter). I want to be safe and secure and have confidence that I am those things.

But does Jesus promise safety? He prays for us. He prays against the evil one. But He wants us to live “dangerously” as Christians. So how does that translate into personal safety? Christians have created a christian bubble of safety so that they don’t have to interact with the world. Or if they do, it’s on a very minimal scale. They think that the world is what’s dangerous. But that’s a topic for another blog.

Why do I crave safety? Is it because it was taken from me a long time ago? What would really make me feel safe? I don’t know if that’s humanly possible. I can feel better. Reassured. But safe? That’s a lot to ask of someone. (Kinda like why I avoid dating. Dating leads to marriage. Marriage is a lot to ask of someone. I can’t ask it of anyone.)

I know that ultimately my safety lies in Christ. He knows what will happen and when. But there are times when I wish I had someone to actually hold me. Like after dancing with that guy. I didn’t feel safe. I felt exposed. And I couldn’t explain it to Hannah. So, in my typical fashion, I made jokes. I made light of it. I didn’t let her see the scared little girl hiding behind the humor. I put on my tough girl, “nothing phases me” face. Because that’s what I do when I don’t feel safe.

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