My First Time

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1

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Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 1
Two young Christians exploring love and passion.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.



I sit naked in an overstuffed leather armchair absorbing my

surreal surroundings.

The remnant scents of crushed rose petals and last night's

love making fill my nostrils while the gentle glow of dawn filters through
leaded glass windows and sheer drapery. Gold-leaf picture frames and an antique
clock face give off a slight radiance that contrast against the historic
mansion's otherwise dark furnishings and wood paneling. Of everything in the
room, the object most strikingly highlighted by the soft illumination is
Emily's smooth alabaster leg extending from underneath the king size bed's dark
duvet cover. The room is silent except for faint, deep breaths of slumber
emanating from beneath the duvet.

While my senses are filled by the early morning experience,

treasured memories of the journey to this moment float through my head.

My childhood.

God has been good to me. I was raised in a very loving home

by two wonderful parents, both faithful Believers who raised their two sons to
be Godly young men. My mom worked as an elementary schoolteacher but spent most
of her free time spearheading our church's county-wide food pantry ministry.
Dad was a jack-of-all-trades who probably had 20 different jobs over his
working career, not because he wasn't good at the jobs, but because he was a
very inquisitive person and became quickly bored with each pursuit. We weren't
monetarily wealthy by any definition, but we were a solid working-class family
and our basic day-to-day needs were met.

There were a few local main street businesses that were the

economic and social hubs for our small Midwest farming community. Linda's Diner
was the only restaurant in our one-flashing-light town, and was where the
retired crowd started their morning with coffee and gossip. Following
breakfast, the older men moved to the John Deere dealership where they spent the
morning drinking more coffee and lamenting that "they don't make tractors
like they used to." Meanwhile, the older women went to Clancy Drugs, which
was actually more of a "five and dime" store that had a small
pharmacy. The owner, Oscar Clancy, had set up an area with armchairs, a couple
sofas, and a coffee table where the women would knit and crotchet while they
gossiped.

Two other local landmarks were the towering white steeple of

the First Congregational Church, and the two-story brick Burkee Hardware
building, owned by John and Bonnie Burkee. Both were welcome visual contrasts
to flat horizons filled with endless cornfields, and both had transformational
roles in my life.

The Burkee's attended First Congregational Church, as did

nearly everyone in town, and were long-time friends with my parents. Mrs.
Burkee often helped my mom with the church food pantry and my dad was a
frequently found at the hardware store 'shooting-the-breeze' with Mr. Burkee.
Nearly every Friday night, the two couples could be found playing Euchre at
their house or ours.

Mr. Burkee knew money was always tight for my parents and,

when I was a Freshman in high school, suggested I help out at the hardware
store on Saturdays. I readily accepted and he put me to work with basic tasks like
loading customers' cars, sweeping floors, and taking out trash. Since I was
only 14 at the time, Mrs. Burkee would pay me in cash at the end of each
Saturday and usually send me home with a plate of cookies or some other treat
for my family. As a couple without children of their own, I felt a bit like the
son they never had.

The hardware store was a natural fit for me. My family

didn't have money to buy new things or hire repair technicians when something
broke, so dad always fixed everything himself. He had a mechanical mind and was
innovative with cost efficient solutions and repairs. I was always eager to
watch him as a young child, and to participate in the repairs as I grew older.
As grew into a young adult, my mind began to work like his, inquisitive and
mechanical, and that translated into a lot of practical knowledge that was
helpful at the hardware store.

After a few months, Mr. Burkee asked if I would want to help

stock shelves on weekdays after school. He gave a stern warning that I needed
to keep my schoolwork and grades in order. School was to be my number one
priority and if I didn't abide by that, working afternoons at the hardware
store would end. He had no reason to worry and I eagerly accepted his offer.
School came easy to me and I carried straight A's without much effort.

What didn't come easy to me was social ease. I was a very

introverted person and found social interactions awkward at best. I had a
couple good buddies and did marginally well holding conversations with adults,
but would stumble epically when even saying "hi" to a teenage girl.

When I turned 16, Mr. and Mrs. Burkee promoted me to be a

legitimate, on-the-books employee at Burkee Hardware and had me start
interacting more with customers. I helped them find items in the store,
answered general questions, and sometimes helped brainstorm on their projects.
Mrs. Burkee taught me how to use the cash register and record store credit
purchases for customers that were billed monthly.

I didn't recognize it until years later, but the trust Mr.

and Mrs. Burkee gave me in those early years allowed me to find trust in
myself. I was confident in my knowledge and that gave me courage in my
interactions with customers. That also spread to other aspects of my life and I
found it easier to have more meaningful conversations with friends or adults at
church.

Girls were still a different story. I had zero confidence in

that area and remained painfully awkward to the point of social paralysis. It
was as if I was on the outside of a glass bubble looking into the real world.
There were a few girls at school and at church that I found attractive and
interesting, but I lacked the ability to break through that glass wall.

Accepting failure in that part of my life, I poured my

energies into school, church activities, and the hardware store. I became more
involved at church where I took on a bigger role in helping my mom with the
food pantry, joined a Wednesday evening Bible Study group, and grew much deeper
in my personal relationship with God. Those things certainly didn't solve my
awkwardness with girls, but they at least kept my mind from constantly dwelling
on the subject.

Becoming a Man.

By the time my Senior year arrived, I was a well engrained

fixture at church and the hardware store. The Burkee's trusted me implicitly
and often left me to run the store or lock up at night when they had other
commitments. Over the Christmas and New Year's holidays, they even took their
first vacation in 20-years, a 10-day Caribbean cruise, and left me to manage
the store.

During that year, I began to think about life after high

school. The hardware store was very comfortable for me and I loved every minute
of it, but I also knew it would be difficult to support myself, and hopefully a
future family, on a store clerk's wages.

My mechanical mind dreamed of an engineering degree and a

career designing complex industrial innovations. The spiritual side of me
dreamed of a life in ministry leading people to Jesus, though that wasn't
exactly a high-paying appointment either. The problem with both options was
money.

My parents had managed to squirrel away a very small college

fund over the years but, in reality, the vast majority of college expenses
would need to be covered by scholarships and loans. Understanding the potential
magnitude of college debt made a non-degreed life at the hardware store look
more and more attractive.

Mrs. Burkee had taken a keen interest in what I intended to

do after graduation and there were occasional slow evenings at the hardware
store when she would sit and listen to all the conflicting thoughts rattling
around in my head. Every time she would give the same advice, to keep my
options open, pursue all opportunities until a decision became clear, and keep
praying for God's guidance.

I took her advice to heart and explored various community

colleges and universities, both those with engineering programs and those with
ministry fields. I found a few Christian colleges that had well regarded
engineering programs, which would give me the perfect opportunity to pursue
both of my dreams simultaneously. However, the schools were private and their
tuitions rates were astronomical.

My "top-pick" school, Powell College, was located

in a small town of the same name and was especially pricey. Mrs. Burkee
continued her previous advice and insisted I apply to as many schools as
possible to keep my options open. She backed up her determination by insisting
that she and Mr. Burkee pay for all the application fees. How could I argue
with that?

Meanwhile, graduation was a couple months away and the

entire town was abuzz about the upcoming Senior Prom. I had never attended a
school dance and had no intention of attending Senior Prom.

My mom disagreed, arguing it was a rite-of-passage and that

I would regret it for the rest of my life. She wouldn't accept no for answer
and said she would make arrangements for me to take her coworker's daughter,
Bridget, to Prom. I continued protesting and told her that I could find my own
date, but I didn't want to go to any high school dance, Prom or otherwise.
However, mom was relentless and I eventually resigned myself to the fact I
wasn't going to win the argument.

My statement about finding my own date was a partial truth.

Thanks to family genes, I was a fairly good-looking guy and occasionally drew
the interest of girls around my age. Moving and lifting of heavy items at the
hardware store had slowly evolved my body from that of a scrawny child into a
muscular, well-defined 6'-3" young man with softly chiseled facial
features. Unfortunately, any female attention I received because of my physical
appearance was quickly repelled by my awkward and unconfident nature.

Prom was an absolute disaster. Set-up dates are awkward

under any circumstances, but Bridget was very shy and just as socially backward
as me. We were simply a bad combination and spent the first part of the night
standing off to the side of the dance floor fidgeting nervously and trying not
to make eye contact with each other. Eventually, I worked up the courage to ask
her to dance when the band began playing a slow ballad. She reluctantly
accepted.

We slowly shuffled around in circles, clumsily looking for

appropriate hand placements and keeping plenty of distance between our bodies.
Thankfully, our respective friends rescued us shortly after the song ended and
we amicably parted ways.

Recruited.

Envelopes with college and university logos began appearing

in the family mailbox about a month before graduation. I had a perfect GPA, so
it wasn't a surprise that they were all letters of acceptance. However, what I
didn't expect was that most of them also included offers of significant
scholarships and financial aid. I was ecstatic to learn Powell College offered
an 80% no-repayment scholarship, which made my "top-pick" school a realistic
possibility. I excitedly told my parents then immediately raced over to the
hardware store to tell Mrs. Burkee.

A few days later, I closed the hardware store and went home

to find the Burkee's and my parents playing their regular Friday night Euchre
game at the kitchen table. They all greeted me as I walked in the house and,
with a strange look on his face, my dad said somewhat ominously, "Sit down
son, Mr. & Mrs. Burkee would like to talk to you about something."

I nervously pulled up a chair and waited patiently while

they finished the last couple tricks of the hand. Mom updated the score and dad
started reshuffling the cards while Mr. Burkee spoke.

"Mike, you did a great job managing the store while we

were on the cruise last winter and, well, we really enjoyed the time away. I
have a proposition for you."

I listened intently as he continued, "We would like to

go on an extended vacation this summer. Go out west to the Grand Canyon,
Yellowstone, Mt. Rushmore; maybe even try our luck in Vegas. We haven't planned
it out yet so we're not sure how long we'll be gone, but I'm guessing 3 or 4
weeks for a road trip like that. So; We would like you to manage the store
while we're away."

I was more than happy to do so and started to respond, but

Mrs. Burkee cut me off before I got any words out, "However, you won't
receive your normal hourly wage while we're gone;”

I looked at her quizzically and waited for her to continue

after a faux dramatic pause, "Instead, John and I will pay the 20% of
Powell's tuition that the scholarship doesn't cover, and also help you out with
books and course fees."

I was quickly doing calculations in my head. Their proposal

was easily worth 4 times what I would earn at my normal gross hourly rate, not
even considering taxes. I sat speechless with a stunned look on my face. Here
was the answer to my prayers. God had provided.

Mrs. Burkee excitedly continued, "I know you really

want to go to Powell. You're an amazing young man and we want you to follow
your dreams."

Mr. Burkee echoed her thoughts and added, "You've

worked your tail off for 4 years, more so than we could ask of any employee.
This isn't a gift. You've earned it."

I looked over at my parents. My mom was beaming and my dad

had a 'gotcha' look on his face. Apparently, he thought it was funny to bait me
at the beginning of the conversation.

I slowly responded, "I; I don't know what to say.

That's very generous."

I think Mrs. Burkee was even more excited than me and

blurted out, "Just say yes!" So, I did.

Cap & Gown.

High school graduation and the following summer went by in a

blur. Amid preparing to move away to Powell, I also managed to keep attending
my weekly Bible study and maintain status quo at the hardware store while Mr.
& Mrs. Burkee were on vacation. Before I knew it, I was loading up my car
and saying heartfelt goodbyes to all my friends and family, and especially to
the Burkee's for all they had done over the past years.

After arriving at Powell, I quickly settled into my dorm

room on the first day, then spent the second day on campus searching for a job.
Despite my tuition being 100% covered, I still needed to pay for room &
board and needed some spending money.

Naturally, my first stop was the local downtown hardware

store where I spoke briefly with the owner, a stern-looking man in his late
50s, Mr. Jacobs. He looked at me skeptically and gruffly asked if I had any
experience. I modestly told him that I worked at the hardware store in my
hometown. He asked for a contact person, which I gave, and he said he would get
back to me.

I spent the rest of the day applying for jobs anywhere that

had a posting, though I needn't have. Mr. Jacobs called me first thing the next
morning to say he talked to Mr. Burkee, and I was hired.

Higher Ed.

I settled into a routine of classes and work over the next

few weeks. My inquisitive mind yearned for new knowledge from both sources and
I soaked it up like a sponge. The coursework was more challenging and took more
effort than in high school, but was still manageable and left adequate time for
about 20 hours a week at the hardware store.

Between the hardware store paycheck, some help from my

parents, and a moderate size student loan, I would be able to cover the cost of
room & board and my general living expenses. Once again, God provided.

During those first few weeks, I also began attending Faith

Bible Church, which was located a couple blocks from the hardware store. It was
a typical church in many ways, but also had a large college-age ministry given
its proximity to Powell's campus. They had a worship service on Sunday morning
and a variety of study and support groups throughout the week, including a
'young adult' (a.k.a. college student) study group on Wednesday evenings that
they called Next Gen, just NG for short.

Due to my schedule at the hardware store, it was a few weeks

into school before I could attend my first Wednesday NG study. I followed signs
through the church building into a large lounge area furnished like an
oversized but cozy living room, complete with an artificial electric fireplace.
I would guess there were about 40-50 students socializing in informal clusters
around the room. I recognized a couple students from my engineering classes and
decided they would be my safest point of entry into this new group.

My eyes casually scanned the room looking for other familiar

faces as I purposefully walked toward my engineering classmates, that is until
I plowed into someone. My hands instinctively reached out to steady whoever I
just clobbered and grasped the shoulders of an extremely petite girl. I looked
down to see a bob of strawberry-blond hair face-planted into the lower portion
of my chest.

Socially horrified, I quickly stepped backward and squeaked

out a timid, "Sorry. Are you ok?"

The girl's head tilted upward to reveal pure beauty with

amazing blue eyes and a welcoming smile. Ignoring my question and the clumsy
circumstance, she cheerily thrust her hand out to shake mine, "I'm Emily!
Emily Fulton. I haven't seen you here before so I was just coming to say
hello."

A pang of nervousness clenched my stomach as her delicate

hand came to rest in my big mitt "Hi, I'm Michael; er; Mike."

"Nice to meet you Michael," she said

emphasizing my formal name, then warmly continued, "I saw you at worship
service the last couple Sundays, but you left before I could catch you."

I stood with Emily's soft hand in mine, frozen in an awkward

conversational pause and unable to formulate an intelligent response.

Again, she ignored my ineptness and continued, "I'm

glad you came to NG tonight! I'm a Freshman at Powell, but I grew up in this
church and already know most of the students here. Let me introduce you to some
people."

Her hand slipped from our handshake as she turned and began

walking toward a group on the far side of the room. I followed behind,
curiously observing Emily's petite form as her short legs took 2 energetic
steps for every one of my lazy strides.

While small, her 4'-11" body was perfectly

proportioned, and her tastefully conservative attire gave an impression of
style and elegance not exhibited by other students in the room. Tasteful white
shorts highlighted subtly athletic legs and graceful hips, while a tailored
pastel-blue sleeveless blouse accentuated her narrow waist and modest chest.

Emily proceeded to introduce me to nearly everyone in the

room before the study began, skillfully prompting conversation and filling
awkward pauses in a way that made me feel at ease. That continued into the
Bible study as we sat in adjacent armchairs and she effortlessly integrated me
into the group discussions.

As the study ended and people began to informally mingle

again, Emily turned toward me in her chair with a genuine smile, "I'm
really glad you came tonight. Will I see you Sunday morning?"

The inquiry was rote social courtesy for most people, but

Emily's smile and voice radiated true sincerity that meant much more than the
face value of the words. The genuine kindness caught me a bit off guard and I
stumbled a response, "Ye; yes, I'll be here Sunday."

She enthusiastically replied, "Great! I'll see you

then!" and moved to join a group of her friends across the room.

School  Work.

Over the following weeks, I fell into a routine and became

integrated into life at Powell, Faith Bible, and Jacobs Hardware. Classes were
going well, and the hardware store atmosphere felt like a reunion with an old
friend. Whatever tensions I had melted away when I entered through the old,
creaky screen door on Main Street.

At church, I began to build friendships with a few of the

guys in NG and, on more Sundays and Wednesdays than not, Emily would initiate a
few minutes of friendly conversation with me. Over the course of those brief
chats, I learned she was an Early Childhood Education major, her dad was a
tenured seminary professor at Powell, she was a cheerleader and president of
the quiz bowl team in high school, and; she always dressed impeccably. In turn,
I told her about my engineering major and a little about my family background,
including how the Burke

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