In honor of Valentine’s Day, I present something intended purely for entertainment… Enjoy! ♥
I want you to imagine for a moment that you’re a teenage girl who has rented a movie on a Friday night and invited several friends over to eat pizza and watch that movie. Of course, it’s a pretty decent movie, as you know that it will be inspected by your parents prior to viewing. You have some old quilts thrown over the ugly couches in the basement, a rather boxy, dusty old television that someone handed down to someone that eventually made its way to this very basement (the first time your family ever had a second television in the house), and some snacks (thank you, Mom).
You turn off the lights, settle in, and enjoy the show. The movie is good. There’s no cussing, no immorality, nothing offensive at all – until, of course, your dad (The Preacher…) walks downstairs to check on things. As if on some kind of heavenly cue, the movie suddenly has it’s only suggestive scene – and wouldn’t you know that the characters in question aren’t married? (How does he do that? It’s like he has radar or something!) Rather than be the cool dad who says hello to everyone, eats a few bites off the snack table, and goes back upstairs, THIS teenage girl’s father utilizes all 6’2” of his holy, pastoral, public-speaker presence to glare at the screen and holler, “RUN! Flee! Get out of there! Kids, you must RUN from immorality! Fornication! RUN!!!”
Welcome to my world.
I wish I could say that only happened one time, but it was a pretty regular occurrence. In hindsight, I guess most kids would’ve stopped having their friends over, but I just kept inviting people over and kept getting embarrassed.
Dad was actually right, for all his drama and interesting delivery of that message. No matter how hard I might’ve wanted that booming voice gone from my head, its impact can’t be doubted. And all my friends knew they were going over to a pastor’s house, so at least I had a little bit of an excuse.
These days my parents have a 90” high-definition projection-screen television with DVR and universal remote control, a wet bar, and leather reclining couches in their basement. And when I go over there and catch Dad watching a James Bond marathon, I wait in anticipation for the moment when I can use all my 5’10” and loudest and holiest pastoral public-speaking voice to yell, “Fornication! Sin! RUN!!!”
My, how times have changed.
So, kids, what’s the moral of this story? As you prepare for Valentine’s Day frivolities, if you aren’t married, remember to RUN! Or you could be like me and find that the sexiest part of your lovers’ holiday is talking to your boyfriend on the phone about the old, leaking paint gun he’s using on his mission trip in Guatemala. LOL.
P.S. If you are married, by all means, ♥ CELEBRATE! ♥