The Preacher Contemplates Matrimony

                                                     

 Lord Jesus, I come to You again, asking for a helpmeet--a nice little woman to stand by me, to welcome me home to a clean house and a hot meal on the table. I am sick and tired of doing for myself and eating frozen pizza.

You know everything--so You know how I've strayed and rambled, playing the wolf rather than the shepherd.

(Reckon I'm lucky He don't strike me down when I come a-begging. . . after the way I done my first wife.)

But, Lord, You promise in the Book to forgive sinners, and they say there is more rejoicing in Heaven over the redemption of a sinner than a good man . . . Lord, give me a helpmeet to keep me straight, and I will praise and glorify Your blessed Name to the end of my days. A man needs a woman . . .

(I don't know. . . Him and His disciples didn't have much use for women, now did they? 'Cepting that Mary who washed His feet and dried them with her hair... Now wouldn't it be something to have a woman like that . . . probably long, thick red-gold hair like . . . long enough she can sit on it . . . her crowning glory . . .not like so many of these young women today . . .lesbians and femi-nazis and ugly to the bone.)

A young woman, Lord . . . (she is right much  than me . . . young enough to bear my children. It's a judgement on me, not having a son to carry on my name. Maybe I hadn't ought to have made Sarabeth get rid of that baby--but a young man just starting out didn't need that kind of burden.)

Lord Jesus, I have erred and strayed, but with a good woman, a young woman to give me children and to bless my old age . . .

(She has the one child--that pretty little girl--but I reckon she's good for several more. And I know she's a hard worker--had to be since her husband got killed in that car wreck. She's a good Christian too, don't run around far as I know. If she did, the old biddies at church would for sure let me know.

(Old biddies--they's a sight of them at church what brings me casseroles and rolls their eyes at me. Any one of them would jump at the chance of being the preacher's wife. But what use is a wrinkled old woman past child-bearing to a man like me? I need to raise up sons to carry on my name.)

Lord Jesus, I believe You are speaking to me, leading me to set an example of Christian marriage--Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve. In these end times, a pastor must lead by example. I admit and repent of my past failings and fall on Your precious mercy to turn her eyes and heart to me . . .

(She's a nurse, too, a nice income and when I get older, should I go to ailing . . .)