All Aboard the eHarmony Karma Train

So, this one time, I joined eHarmony.

It all started late on a Thursday night. Part need for a distraction to avoid pursuing what I know is wrong, part narcissistic tick to talk about myself, I found myself filling out page after page of ‘would you rather’ questions. Channeling my 8^th grade self, I dug in like I was filling out Seventeen magazine quizzes, but instead of finding my perfect jeans, this would result in my perfect man, according to the 92.3 compatibility characteristics identified by the chemistry police.

Apparently 42-year olds named Gary who dig Comic Con and thought about traveling to Thailand one time are right up my alley.

Karma-1. Me-0.

This is what I get for joining just because I had a bad day and an hour to kill and not because I am ready to 'find the one'.

They recommend you read several articles and really take time to ‘understand your deepest needs’ before you craft up the perfect profile. I’ve never been one to take advice; so instead, I dove in head first, touting my love of fanny packs and my not-so-secret love affair with cheeseburgers. Look, Guy, if you can’t appreciate a no hands required carry-all and don’t recognize when you are knee deep in sarcasm, we won’t work. I’ll ruin your life. You’ll bore me to tears. Let’s high five it up and call it a day.

Summing yourself up is no easy business. Who am I? The first thing the future father of my children will ever see is that I dig fanny packs. Probably not a solid strategy, but I’m sticking with it.

Suggestion article Number 1 says to ask your friends. “What do your friends say about you?” it asks. “They will typically give you really insightful answers.” Oh yeah, eHarmony? Have you ever met my friends? Their response would be dripping in sarcasm and full of really unhelpful jokes about my hygiene and love of flannel. Above all, they would be long-winded.

Nevertheless, I am still tasked with figuring out who I am. When it comes down to it, all jokes aside, what do I consider the deciding factors of my character, my needs and my must-haves.

Daily, I think I just grab a strand on the rope of my life and run with it. Today, I will be funny. Tomorrow I will be determined. The next? Let’s go with creative. All are pieces of me, but none are the end-all answer.

When Jesus asked Peter “Who do you say that I am?” Peter’s answer was concise. Direct. Not messing around. “You are the Christ."

Is my faith so ingrained in my soul that my essence is simply ‘a follower of the Christ’? Or have I so diluted it by slowly lowering him, one rung at a time, down ladder of my priorities that ‘christian’ is merely a footnote in the novel of my life?

While eHarmony is all up in my grill asking me to define myself, I have to wonder, who do people say that I am when my back is turned? What legacy am I leaving? My legacy doesn’t start when I turn 83, or when I will the kid down the street my Hannah Montana scooter. It starts the moment my reputation is formed and a sentence is uttered about me when I’m not around. Have I set myself apart to accurately represent the holiness of Christ? Or do I look no different from those who think that Jesus is a sham. Peeking into the looking glass of my life, will they be able to see past the dingy panes cause by bursts of anger, unkind words and judgement, or do they see the image of Christ?

Who do they say that I am?

Who do you want to be when they ask? 

Disclaimer: Stop freaking out. Do I think eHarmony will send me the love of my life? No. Will it provide hours of ammo for my blog? You betcha. Do you get to reap the benefits of the hilarity of it all? Absolutely. Stay tuned, dear reader, there are plenty more where ‘Gary’ came from.