When Meeting for Coffee Really Just Mean Meeting for Coffee

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be in an arranged marriage? A set-up union of 2 families. It seems to only happens to our grandparents' era or in Third World countries. You feel sad that these people doesn't have a liberty of choice. They don't get to choose who they want to spend with the rest of their lives. Yet, they are happy, or so it seems. Growing old together... this term sounds really chessy in today's society context. The S'pore Department of Statistics reports the divorce rate has doubled over the last decade, and as of 2003, for every 10 marriages registered in Singapore, almost 3 ended in divorce. The dysfunctional state of marriages is, sad to say, a normaly across the globe. Could be due to numerous social factors. Could it be that we are now spoilt for choice, in contrast to previous generations that seemed more content with the mate their parents chose on their behalf. "He got a Beemer convertible." "She's a Grade 8-er and has a Masters." "He's got chiselled looks... like a Greek God and irresistable charm." "She's got model looks and those bum seems as though they were fitted with a turbo locomotive." "He's a hunk. She's a babe." I could go on forever. There's always someone better out there. Period. Point is this: how are you gonna handle the reality that your partner will probably never measure up to those out there in the marketplace will determine the amount of bitterness and pent-up frustration and eventually how the relationship going to work out? How are you gonna reconcile the differences between those eligible singles in your workplace, in your social circle with the one right beside you. Face it: He'll never be simultaneously handsome enough, rich enough and free enough to spend quality time with her. Likewise, he grows sick of her constant mumblings, nagging and insecurity, coupled with wrinkles and after 3 kids, that pear-shaped bodyline.

Have you ever felt like you're being scrutinized or even, evaluated by the opposite sex? It's a weird feeling... looks, tick... humor, somewhat ok... stable job and income, barely make it... godly, tick... sense of responsibility, cross... drives a car, bonus points! From head to toes, the eyeballs rolled up and down. The eyeball-to-eyeball stare... feels like she can almost see through my thoughts. "How can I ditch her without her feeling lousy about herself."

I hated blind dates. The mental stress and heart palpatations before the date, only to return home hopes dashed. Talk about dealing with disappointments in life. Your mind is wrestling with the fact that what you thought she would be and how she is now, standing in front of you, in flesh and blood. Voices in your head you can't shut them off. But, she sounded all right on msn and on the phone. Drats! Looking at her now, she looked like she's in her thirties. Sigh. Somehow I wished guys don't go looks. Why can't we forgo the looks department... true beauty is not found skin deep. A friend told me once a coupl of years back, "You know, it's amazing I find man obsessed with finding the perfect one.The perfect one is a myth. IT doesn't exists. Look, human skin is only 2-3mm thick. Stripped off the skin, we basically all look the same, bloodied mass of flesh. Beneath our only 2-3mm skin, we look no different from one another. Color, skin condition, hair, looks is secondary." Words of wisdom. Sure, 'the inner beauty are more important than looks' and 'charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting' sermon. I remember that. Easier said than done. Guys are visual creatures. Stimulated by what we see, rather than the unseen. That's the way we're made and programmed by the great Creator. Personally, I admired those guys whose wives or girlfriends are erm... lesser 'visual-stimulating' than they are.

Coming back to blind dates. Not to mention the part where we've got to show the fake "You aren't what I've expected to be; but heck, it's only a meal and I need to pretend I'm still interested but there isn't really a chance I'll ever see her again in my life." smile.

A zillion electric currents bolted through the neurotic nerves in the grey matter.

"Quick Frank. Think of something intelligent to sustain the conversation. Don't look like an idiot just eating your food and keeping silent. Say something! Even though there seems to be no chemistry whatsoever. C'mon, there has to be something. Dig deeper." Your mind just went blank. Mental block. Execute Plan B.

You felt like confronting God, "Why did you let this happen to me? Is he or she really 'The One'?! What did I do to deserve this? I can't possibly accept this, Father. " Cracked your brains for creative excuses to get out of the place as soon as possible. "Oh, my friend just had a car accident. I need to rush to the hospital now. See ya!" "Oops, I've forgotten, I need to return the car to my brother later tonight as he is using it for a chalet. Keep in touch. By the way, don't call me... I will call you." When you got home, you just wanna hit the sack and hope that by the next morning, you'll forget the whole nightmarish episode. Rarely happens. As Forrest Gump cited, "Life's like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."

During dates, we often come up with a pre-date checklist that we mentally tick against to make sure that he or she is "The One" ordained by God, sealed by fate, fused together by divine circumstances and bonded by a common destiny. The ultimate question boils down to: "Is he or she marriage material? Can I see him or her being a father or mother to my children?" If the answer is no, that's the only one-to-one date you'll ever get with that guy/girl.

Recently a guy friend told me about hanging out with a single buddy, who talked at length about a woman from their church he'd been crushing on for months. "Why don't you ask her to coffee sometime?" my friend asked. The reply? "Well, I'd like to get to know her a bit more first. See if she'd say yes. And see if she really is marriage material."

I listened to my friend's story with a little bit of glee, glad that the phenomenon is equal opportunity. But I also felt dismay, thinking this is part of why there's a dating drought in Christian circles. We're paralyzed by seriousness and fear.

While the crazy-intense thinking about potential relationships—even potential dates—seems obviously over-the-top, I totally understand where it comes from. As Christians, at the end of the day—and date—we aren't looking for just a potential one-night stand or even a possible live-in love interest. As people of faith, we know the end game for dating is marriage. And that can be a lot to swallow along with that first-date latte.

In an age of casual sex and "starter marriages," it's great—not to mention, biblical—that we single Christians are taking matters of the heart so seriously. But I sometimes wonder if we're taking them a little too seriously. I have a friend who turned down a date invite because she couldn't picture the guy as the father of her children. Mind you, she'd just met him 5 minutes earlier. Surprised by how 1st impression counts. That's how important 1st impression is. And I've heard of guys who want to be completely sure a woman is their soulmate before even asking her to lunch. I hear these things and wonder how we're supposed to get into these relationships we value so highly at this rate.

I also suspect there's some fear at work here too. Fear that any step other then a slow march to the altar is outside of God's will and wrong. Fear of misleading someone and being labeled the villain of your singles group. Fear of revealing feelings and not having them returned. Fear of vulnerability, rejection, pain. But no matter how you approach them, relationships take risk.

And avoiding the risk often involves avoiding the relationship.

Below is an fascinating article by a female Christian writer I find rather amusing and insightful:

"To say my friend Jenny was excited would be an understatement.

This single sister had accepted an invite to a pre-service Starbucks gathering with a guy from her church. In anticipation of their outing, she'd gotten a manicure and a new blouse. And she'd told her mother.

As she recounted her elaborate preparations, I fought the urge to temper her enthusiasm. I was happy with her and for her, but I was a tad fearful she was getting too worked up. What if this was just a friendly get-together in the guy's mind? What if they didn't hit it off? At this rate, I knew my friend would be totally crushed. "It's not like he asked you to marry him," I wanted to say in soothing tones. "It's just coffee."

But then I remembered back several years earlier when I'd spent the better part of an afternoon in a mint-green facemask before meeting a male coworker at the dollar theater. And I may have changed clothes about five times before deciding on the just-right outfit.
Staring in the mirror while washing off the green goo, I remember telling myself to dial it down a couple notches. "It's just a casual movie outing. Relax." But at the time, it had been over a year since a guy had extended such an invite—or seemingly even noticed my existence. Finally, I'd breathed in relief after hanging up the phone from his call. And though most of me recognized that the thought was so premature it needed a whole new word other than premature, a little other part of me wondered if he could be "the one." It's just that when dating options don't come around very often, each one carries so much weight. So much pent-up hope. And so much pressure.

To make matters worse, it doesn't help that the male species can smell this 'sense of desperation' a mile away. And when they do, they run for the hills. But really, who can blame them, when on date one they sense a woman mentally picking out their China pattern and naming their future children? Unfortunately their understandable disappearance only furthers the datelessness that helped create the craziness in the first place—continuing the vicious cycle.

So in the past couple years I've focused on letting coffee be coffee. Not being cavalier with others' feelings or totally unexcited about dating prospects (I freely admit to purchasing a pair of flirty new shoes along the way). Just casualing it up a bit so there's more room to move. Not having to know a guy is my soulmate before agreeing to share mochas. Not plotting our future together on the drive to the Starbucks. Not having to know a guy is interested before sending him a breezy e-mail to test the relational waters.

The result? More male interaction—as I suspect they've sniffed out less seriousness and desperation. Less stress before these outings, and more of an ability to relax and just be myself when we're hanging out. Increasing courage to say "yes" and even to issue a few coffee shop invites of my own. And more confidence, as my "dating muscles" aren't quite as atrophied.
Just last month I met a guy for coffee. Did I deliberate a bit over what to wear? Sure. But there was no facemask and future planning. Just fun anticipation and prayers for God to guide, no matter what may start brewing along the way."

I've to agree with the writer that guys can sense the desperation in the opposite sex. Fact is: unless the urgency is a mutual feeling, it does drives men away. I realise over the years the reason for not settling down. One major fear of settling down with one is not marriage, not commitment... I was afraid I'd choose incorrectly. I was afraid I'd be wrong about the one I married. And thus, I was overly concerned about the choosing.

In a way, it's almost as if I was putting together a jigsaw puzzle and had one final space to fill—but many, many extra pieces in the box. Eagerly, I searched for that right piece. And instead of just trying them in the empty space, I held each one up for detailed analysis. Looking it over inch by inch, I checked the shape and size, and I tried to interpret the look, the markings, and the color—all to be sure it was indeed the one to even try in the space.

My prayer times also helped me realize my psycho puzzle search was keeping me from ever being content. I was just expecting too much—from myself, from God, and from the women I dated. My standards were too high. Of course, I'm not saying we should settle for just anyone—but I wasn't being realistic. By putting so much weight on every little quality of a woman—and by looking so hard for God's signs and the specific qualities I wanted—I could always find something that signaled this wasn't the right piece of the puzzle.

I also realized emotions can't always be trusted. Of course, emotions do speak to us in great ways. Regular happiness, secure comfort, or constant annoyance really do say a lot about the person creating those feelings in us. And God often speaks through how we feel. But momentary annoyance or anger or boredom isn't going to always "mean" something. Not only are emotions fleeting and unreliable, but love isn't immune from those things. My accountability partner at the time asked me, "Do you think I never get angry or annoyed with my wife? Sometimes, you'll be miserable."

What made a real difference in my mindset—and that specific dating relationship especially—was another realization. While I was too busy investigating whether this was the "right" puzzle piece, I forgot that love isn't a puzzle at all. It's not a search for one perfect piece or else all is lost. Instead, it's a mixture of following God's will, finding compatibility, and—the part I forgot—choosing to commit. Dating isn't about finding what you think may be the "right" puzzle piece and then holding your breath through the vows to see if you picked right. It's about choosing well (with an eye to compatibility, chemistry, and God's guidance) and then committing to make it work. Love says, "I'm gonna stick with this even if I'm angry at you. Even if I hate you right now. Even if I'm miserable. Even if I'm bored hanging out with you. I choose to love you."

With that realization, I felt tremendous freedom. No longer was I bound by undependable emotions or what I thought was the "right" one or not. Now, I could listen wholeheartedly to God, realistically evaluate my compatibility with the someone, and work to make our relationship the puzzle piece that fits.

Enjoy the companionship of your date. Relax, sit back, indulge in the lounge music and savour the coffee. It's just coffee, really.

Reminiscing 911

It began with an appalling image, the north tower of the World Trade Center spewing black smoke into a cloudless September sky.

The face of terror has never been so real, at least for myself, whom pre-Sept 11, finds 'terrorism' an unfamiliar phrase confined only to the boundaries of war-torn Middle Eastern nations. The triumph of human spirit coming from numerous testimonies of heroic, self-sacrificial acts has never been so real either. Survivors, victims' families, emergency workers and city officials united for a single day in history.

For millions of people alive today the most significant political event of their lifetimes will be the destruction of the World Trade Center on September 11th 2001.

It was, without question, the day the world changed... the day where henceforth, time will forever be distinguished as Pre or Post 911.

I still remembered vividly that fateful night 5 years ago... watching the horror 'live' on CNN unfold before my eyes. I was in my room at that time when the first plane hit the North Tower. My dad called me out to the living room. We stayed glued to the television set. History was made that defining day. Anyone who has watched it will be shocked at the unimaginable destruction. The sight of office workers dropping off the WTC Towers will be etched in my memory forever. Thoughts were racing, "What made these people want to end their lives like that?" Something terrible and untolerable I guess.

"It didn't seem real." said a survivor. Yet it cannot be further away from the truth. The Twin Towers became a cementary for almost 3,000 innocent souls.

CNA was broadcasting a 2-part series on 911 where the film producers collected and constructed real stories of what happened to people trapped in the WTC Towers and those who went in to save them. The unbelief, shock, panic, disorientation and fear of the office occupants of the torched, smoke-filled buildings were apparent enough. You see them trying to open jammed doors, navigating though debris, making your way crowded, dark smokey, stairways (more than 200 flights of stairs each and making phone calls to loved ones, clueless what had just taken place.

The individual agony, anguish and humanity of those involved is now brought to life through that immersive drama-documentary. Unsung heroes responded to their calling. Jan Demczur, the window cleaner who managed to save the lives of his fellow elevator passengers by unimaginable methods; and the firefighters who so bravely entered the towers, many of whom never returned. One extraordinary story that struck me involved Stanley Praimnath and Brian Park; 2 men who had never met until that day but whose friendship, faith and steely determination meant that they both survived.

"It was the first time I cried like a baby.... I've never received compassion like that before.... a total stranger." recalled Stanley Praimnath.

Tuesday, September 11, 2001, began like any other day for Bethel Assembly of God deacon and Sunday school superintendent Stanley Praimnath of Elmont, Long Island. He got up early, took a shower, prayed, got ready and headed for work. The drive was uneventful. The train ride was the same. Yet, this day he would see the hand of God spare his life. "For some particular reason, I gave the Lord a little extra of myself that morning [during prayer]," Stanley said. "I said, 'Lord, cover me and all my loved ones under your precious blood.' And even though I said that and believed it, I said it over and over and over.

Stanley worked as an assistant vice president in the Loans Operations Department, Fuji Bank Limited. That morning, Stantley went to work at his office located at WTC South Tower/Tower 2, 81st floor. He wanted to evacuate his office building when the 1st plane had hit Tower 1.
However, Stanley returned back to his office desk after the security guard told him Tower 2 was secure (talk about bad advice) after the 1st plane crashed into Tower1. He found his office phone was ringing."It was someone from Chicago calling to find out if I'm watching the news," he said.

He told the caller everything "was fine." But everything wasn't fine--far from it. As Stanley was talking, he looked up and saw American Airlines Flight 11 heading straight for him. "All I can see is this big gray plane, with red letters on the wing and on the tail, bearing down on me," said Stanley. "But this thing is happening in slow motion. The plane appeared to be like 100 yards away, I said "Lord, you take control, I can't help myself here." Stanley then dove under his desk. "My Testament [Bible] was on top of my desk," explained Stanley. "I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the Lord was going to take care of me once I got there." As he curled into a fetal position under his desk, the plane tore into the side of the building and exploded. Miraculously, Stanley was unhurt. However, he could see a flaming wing of the plane in the doorway of his department. He knew he needed to get out of his office and the building fast. But, he was trapped under debris up to his shoulders. "Lord, you take control, this is your problem now," he recalled praying. "I don't know where I got this power from, but the good Lord, He gave me so much power and strength in my body that I was able to shake everything off. I felt like I was the strongest man alive." All the while, Stanley was asking to the Lord to spare his life. "I'm crying and I'm praying, 'Lord, I have things to do..., I want to see my family, Lord, help me through.' " Stanley's office resembled a battle zone--walls flattened into dusty heaps, office equipment strewn violently, flames flickering about and rubble everywhere. "Everything I'm trying to climb on [to get out] is collapsing and I'm going down," he said. "I'm getting cuts and bruises, but I'm saying, "Lord, I have to go home to my loved ones, I have to make it, You have to help me."

Suddenly Stanley saw the light of a flashlight. For a moment, it stunned him. "What were the chances of someone bringing a flashlight to this floor?," he thought. "My first gut reaction was, 'This is my guardian angel--my Lord sent somebody to save me!' " Stanley began screaming, "I see the light, I see the light." But after clawing his way through the debris, he realized that he couldn't get out--all the exits were blocked and his "guardian angel" couldn't get to him--a wall was between him and the staircase. "He can't get to me and I can't get to him, and by this time I can't breathe," Stanley said. "I don't know if it was sulfur or what [burning jet fuel, perhaps], but I can smell this thing. I got down on my knees and said, "Lord, you've got to help me. You've brought me this far, help me to get to the staircase." But then Stanley did something surprising. While praying on his knees, Stanley called out to the man behind the wall, "There's one thing I got to know, do you know Jesus?" The man replied he went to church every Sunday. Then they prayed together to enable them to break through the wall. "I got up, and I felt as if a power came over me," said Stanley. "I felt goose bumps all over my body and I'm trembling, and I said to the wall, 'You're going to be no match for me and my Lord."

Moments later, he punched his way through the wall and, with the help of the man on the other side, was able to squirm his way through the hole in the wall. "The guy held me and embraced me and he gave me a kiss and he said, 'From today, you're my brother for life.' " But the danger wasn't over. The man on the other side of the wall, who introduced himself as Brian, was an older gentleman and they still had 81 floors to walk down, with the building on fire and, unknown to them, in danger of collapse. "We hobbled our way down, and at every floor we stopped to see if anybody was there, but nobody was..., but a man was on the floor, and his back was gone, and he was covered in blood." Stanley asked to be allowed to carry the man out, but a security guard told him it would be better to send somebody up. When they finally made it down to the concourse, only firefighters were there. "They were saying, 'Run! Run! Run!', they were telling us to run out, but they were not concerned about themselves," he said. Stanley and Brian would have ran from the building, but now the concourse was surrounded with fire. Wetting themselves under the building's sprinkler system, they held hands and ran through the flames to safety to Trinity Church about two blocks away. "I wanted to go to the church to thank God," Stanley explained, "As soon as I held onto the gate of that church, the building [World Trade Center Tower Two] collapsed." Stanley and Brian made there way safely out of the danger area. Before they parted, Stanley gave his business card to Brian in hopes of contact at a later time, and said, "If I don't see you, I'll see you in heaven."

Cut and bloodied, with clothes tattered and wearing a borrowed shirt, Stanley finally made it home hours later to his wife Jennifer and his two girls, Stephanie (age 8) and Caitlin (age 4). "I held my wife and my two children and we cried," said Stanley. After thanking God for sparing his life, Stanley told God whatever he did, it will always be for His glory. "I'm so sore, but every waking moment, I say 'Lord, had you not been in control, I would not have made it.' "For some divine reason, I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the good Lord's mighty hand turned the plane a fraction from where I was standing," said Stanley. "Because when it crash-landed, it was just 20 feet from me. I don't care who would rationalize--what people would say now or years from now, but I know it was the handiwork of the Lord that turned that plane.

Sept 11... the day the American Symbol was reduced to ashes... New York, Lower Manhanttan skyline was transformed... terror reared its ugly head for all to witness... Osama Bin Ladin and terrorism became synonymous and the day the world awoke from its slumber and took notice of oppressed Middle Eastern Islamic organisations and 'security' became an overused word for international event organisers and personnel of key installations. What a difference a day makes!

In an instant, fate decreed who had the opportunity to escape and who did not. Amazingly, some chose to stay behind and not leave their offices immediately after the first plane crashes. They didn't know. Sounds ridiculous? Many just thought it was an explosion in the building.

Man lives are no longer in their own hands anymore. Nothing could have prepare those men and women for what took place that day. So who decides who to live and who to die? Definitely not you or me. Can you ever imagine in your wildest dreams that on a typical Tuesday you left for work, a plane is going to hit your office, deliberately? Before Sept 11, nobody did. Can you fathom the intricacies and mysteries of life? I can't.

No insurance could compensate the loss of a grieving family. It's been 5 years... yet some families are still coming to grips with the pain and hollow left after 911. "I actually didn't want to have the service[funeral] for Dave until his body was found, but as time passed it seemed harder to explain to my son," said Fontana's (a NY firefighter) widow, Marian.

Life could end in an instant. We do not know how long we have on this earth. We could have 60 or 70 or 80 years to live... OR, only 24 hours to live.

Are you certain of the place you're heading when you depart from here? Somewhat certain? 60-70% sure? Whatever religious beliefs you have, just make sure you do.