As you may well know, gentle reader, I met my favorite person on okCupid. Before our fateful first date that Friday in September 2014, though, I did quite a bit of internet dating. There were four main phases in my internet dating history: several months 2007-2008 (one meet-up in person, which led to my own first panic attack – and not remotely because the guy wasn’t great; it turns out I was a wreck); spring of 2012, which led to a few dates (then I got horribly, horribly sick for a year, which cut that short); fall 2013 (kind of a lot of dates); and then late spring 2014-September 2014 (a LOT of dates). Even the one-off dates (of which there were many) were a pretty positive experiences. Internet dating did me well – obviously.

This is not a post about whether or why you should be online dating. It’s not about what I think of all the sites I was on at one time or another (in addition to okCupid, I did Christian Cafe, eHarmony, Christian Mingle, and Match). It’s not about the cultural impact of this new way of forming romantic connections (check out this article if you’re curious about that). It’s also not about my stories (although I have some good ones).

What I want to talk about is how to do this thing. I learned a couple of lessons I think are worth passing along – maybe you will find something I learned useful.

When you’re on a date that isn’t going anywhere, be charitable. One of my friends used to talk back in her single days about helping awkward guys learn some dating skills if she found herself on a date with them, just by being a good date herself. She didn’t do this over multiple dates – she wasn’t leading them on or anything – but she chose to see each dead-end date as a different kind of possibility than romance, not a waste of her time or energy. I found that sometimes that chemistry just wouldn’t be there face-to-face, or something would come up in discussion that made it clear we weren’t a great match, and it was tempting to abruptly end the date, be a bitch, or regard the fellow with animosity. But not once was he actually a bad dude with nefarious intent; he just wasn’t the right guy for me. And that is not his fault. Not once would my antagonism have been warranted. I really think kindness is clutch here.*

Another way to think of it is this: especially with the way you end things, whether you’re just chatting online or have been dating for awhile, try to be a positive experience that will encourage good men and women to go out and try again. Putting oneself out there is tough and scary work; be the kind of person who makes others feel it’s worth their effort – and that they have something to offer – even if you didn’t turn out to be “the one.”

Don’t lie. I never struggled with lying until I started getting “maybe we could do this again sometime” from men I didn’t want to go out with again. I am totally ashamed to say I had a terrible habit for awhile of saying, “sure,” and then emailing or texting “Actually, I’m so sorry, I was nervous and I lied; you’re great but I’m not interested.” It was a huge step for me to learn to be honest to men’s faces. Just being frank without being mean is plenty for most people – you don’t need to “make a statement” with your “no thank you.”

When you get super-judgy and cynical, you might need a break. I felt my heart hardening in the spring of 2008. I noticed I was trending toward this nasty attitude when I caught myself looking at profiles and thinking, “Not cute enough for me…Not godly enough for me…Not smart enough for me.” That is not the person I wanted to be, so I quit online dating for 4 years. And when I came back, it was completely different. For me, a big part of guarding my heart was keeping myself from becoming mean and cold and hard.

* I do want to note that having boundaries is important, and you might be justifiably “rude” by putting your foot down and insisting on being left alone, etc., when you’re being pursued past the point at which you said “no thanks.”

I ran this review on my old blog over four years ago, but since it became relevant again this past weekend at The Gospel Coalition Women’s Conferences 2016 in Indianapolis (which was awesome, by the way), I thought I would repost it here. 

When I started seminary, I was in a bit of a unique position – I was the only full-time female student in the entire school. My professors were rather fantastic about the gender-thing (as well as everything else), but obviously, there are just some things women need other women for. As it happens, one of the women who really shaped my seminary years is married to my favorite seminary professor (who also happened to be a pastor at my church). Right about the time I left Charlotte, Melissa was hired as the Women’s Ministry Coordinator at our church.

I’m sure the wisdom of Melissa Kruger will come out in various and sundry contexts on this blog, but today I just want to flog her new/first book.

The Envy of Eve: Finding Contentment in a Covetous World is a convicting, challenging book. Melissa guides us to look unflinchingly at the sin in our hearts, unwaveringly at the Savior Who redeems our hearts, and hopefully to the Spirit Who heals and sanctifies our hearts.

The Envy of Eve argues that there is a consistent pattern in the way that coveting affects people: we see, we covet, we take, we hide. Sounds like Eve, right? She sees the fruit, she wants it, she takes it, and then girlfriend is sewing up fig leaves and ducking behind bushes. This pattern is all over the book, and I’m pretty sure it’s all over my life too. Melissa spends the first half of the book discussing the pattern – what it looks like, where it comes from, and how it meets its end – and the second half demonstrating how this pattern works itself out in our coveting of different things. This “see-covet-take-hide” thing is not Eve-specific, and Melissa makes sure we can’t deny its effect in the men and women of the Bible and in our own lives. I, for one, would not have done such careful self-examination if I had not been led through it; thankfully, I can flog this book with a metaphorical steak over my metaphorical black eye and tell you gleefully that the beating is totally worth it.

One particularly helpful point for me was that we can “take” because of our coveting in a way that has nothing to do with obtaining the actual thing we are coveting. In other words, coveting rarely will goad someone like me to steal the thing I want, but boy, I sure can steal from what I owe or am called to give others when I am under its influence. Here’s a snippet from the chapter entitled “Coveting Seasons and Circumstances” that really kicked my butt:

…[We] take because we are unable to love our neighbor as Christ loved us. When we simply view our neighbor as a means of measuring ourselves, we will never care for him or her well. We will fixate on what is easier in that person’s life and fail to sympathize or support what may be difficult for him or her. Our prayers will be centered on our own cares, instead of on those around us. (210)

Though this book is easily applicable to all kinds of Christians, Melissa specifically is writing for an adult female audience. The only way you can really tell this is her examples – her exegesis, analysis, and systematic theology are top-notch, and her frank, straightforward tone is refreshing. I feel like I have to say this, because the assumption is often that books written for women are “theology-lite.” Maybe some of them fit that category, but this book is not one of them.

One of the best things about this book is that Melissa does not aim it at single women, or married women, or married stay-at-home moms with kids, or empty nesters, or any particular subset of women who belong to Christ – I was made to feel the communion of the saints in a new way, because women 50 years older than me and 6 life-stages away were addressed alongside women like me. We really do all have the same problems, and in the same Savior we find the redemption and restoration for us all.