A long obedience: On marriage and other covenants
There are many people with whom I have not had an affair. Billions. There is also one man in particular.
It is strange to think of a particular person as the person with whom I did not have an affair. There are, in fact, many people with whom I have not had an affair. Billions. I have never slept with the mailman, or kissed my ex-boyfriend, or flirted with a stranger (at least not on purpose—sometimes I can’t contain my natural charm). Since I’ve never been unfaithful to my husband, there are a remarkable number of people with whom I have not committed adultery.
And yet there is one man I cannot help but think of as the man with whom I did not cheat on Benjamin. We had no improper physical contact, no inappropriately intimate conversations. I don’t even know if the attraction was mutual. There was, however, temptation. I felt desire. And when it comes to marriage, temptation and desire are nearly as shameful—nearly as sinful—as actually giving in. Just ask Jimmy Carter, who infamously confessed to Playboy magazine, “I’ve looked on a lot of women with lust. I’ve committed adultery in my heart many times.” Carter’s words made the nation cringe. But Jesus was the first to equate lust with adultery of the heart.
It doesn’t seem fair. When my jeans start to fit too snugly, I track my diet. I don’t have to tally up the slice of German chocolate cake I didn’t eat. It doesn’t matter how hungry I am, how badly I long to devour that frosting with a spoon and let it dissolve on my tongue until only flakes of sweet coconut remain. I could look up recipes for German chocolate cake in my ridiculously large library of cookbooks. I could buy all the ingredients at the grocery store after work. I could bake the damn cake, and so long as not a single morsel passes through my lips, I haven’t done anything worth reporting to MyFitnessPal.com.
