Virtue by Default

I am a virgin. This is very likely not a surprise to anyone reading this. Anyone who knows me knows my constantly date-less life. I’ve never kissed a guy, been on a date… done anything even remotely romantic with one. As I’m sure you also know, this is an unusual state of affairs in today’s world. Most 24 year-old women… well, you’ve seen the stats. 

I used to be (so I thought) justifiably proud of my purity. I’d hear the girls at work talking about birth control, and would think to myself (but not say, because they’re smart enough to see the pompous, goody-two-shoesiness behind something like that) “I’m on the best birth control there is!”  But one day, I had an epiphany. As I was mentally lamenting the lack of men in my life that I would even consider dating, I realized something else… I’ve never wanted to NOT be a virgin. I’ve never been tempted to be anything else. And it’s kind of foolish to be proud of something I still have simply because there’s been no opportunity to lose it. Now, please understand, I have every intention of waiting until marriage. That’s not the issue here at all. 

I grew up fairly sheltered—most of my friends were Christian homeschoolers, we didn’t watch a whole lot of tv, and neither of my parents used any sort of foul language. Consequently, I didn’t even know of the existence of the f-bomb until I was 13 or 14. And I certainly never used foul language, even once I entered college (community college, let me just say here, is quite a shock initially). I would go on mini-rants about how the English language has so many words, yet people use only a small handful to express frustration and anger? Well, foul language is just uncreative.  And then I started working in a restaurant… Forget just about every movie you’ve ever seen about chefs.  Most of them swear worse than sailors, and if the counters were as dirty as their minds, the health department would shut them down instantaneously. Suddenly, I was spending hours with people who used vulgarity like a tweenager uses “like”.  Don’t get  me wrong, I love my coworkers, and they’re some of my favorite people, but that’s an entirely different blog post…

For a very long time, I held out. My language barely suffered, and I was rather proud of the fact that I didn’t swear. And life got more and more stressful, and I kept hearing more and more vulgarity, and my language started slipping. But at least I’d never dropped the f-bomb. And then one memorable day, I did. I can no longer be proud of the fact that I’ve never said a bad word. Really, I never should have been proud of that fact, because I had no idea how hard it was to not say it once you’ve heard it. I’ll be honest, swearing can be temporarily extremely satisfying. 

Here’s my point… I was proud of my clean language,  when I only had it because I was born with it. And when I had never been tempted, never wanted, to swear, it was very easy to stand on my little pedestal. But push came to shove, and I tumbled right off, because I had had no idea just how hard resisting would be. 

I’ve come to realize the same principle applies to sexual purity. I still have my virginity– by default, so to speak.  And hopefully, with God’s help, I’ll have it till my wedding day. But until I’ve been tempted and have successfully resisted, I have no right to be anything but thankful for it, and certainly I have no right to look down on anyone who has been tempted and failed—because I have no idea what that temptation is like. 

Now, I have to add a couple disclaimers. I’m not trying to justify my slips of language. I also am not trying to minimize sin. But I think it’s far too easy for Christians in general, and certainly me in particular, to be unsympathetic to someone who is struggling because of a sin that we have no familiarity with. It’s easy for me to be sympathetic to a coworker dealing with the consequences of oversleeping (ie the sin of laziness), but much harder for me to be sympathetic to one whose heart is being broken by a cheating boyfriend when “none of this would have happened if you hadn’t slept with him in the first place!”  

Too often, I’ve looked down on someone who has sinned or struggles with something, and taken a holier-than-thou stance (hopefully never to their face, but sometimes in conversation about them, ie “I just don’t understand how they could do that!”), when their sin or struggle isn’t even appealing to me. I was talking to a friend one day, and she said it was like judging someone for eating too much cake, when you’ve never tasted cake yourself and so have no idea how hard it is to stop. 

Now, I know how good cake tastes (and cuss-words too, unfortunately). And while I’m thankful that I don’t truly understand sexual attraction yet, maybe I need to work a little harder on being gentle and understanding to those who struggle with it. After all… There, but for the grace of God, go I.