The other day, driving home through a picturesque valley on a Sunday afternoon, I came across an Amish buggy with three young women, probably teenagers on their way to some activity after church. When it was my opportunity to pass, I noticed one had checked me out from the corner of my eye, and up the road about 100 yards past, I looked in the rearview mirror and the one girl waved.

So, of course, seizing the chance, with a goofy grin, I waved at my mirror. Instantly the waving girl covers her mouth as if shocked or embarrassed for having been caught. I would love to be a PA Dutch-speaking fly on the wall for that conversation.

Anyhow, I was out with my twenty-something cousin the other night, talking to the nineteen-year-old waitress about her older boyfriend when she declares, “I will never date any guy under thirty again!” it really did floor me. I mean, the complaint of the ‘impossibility’ was that I was “thirty years old living in Milton” and here is a young woman, far more attractive in some regards, saying that she would only date guys that age!

I guess it’s just how the cookie crumbles.

Prior to even considering the ‘impossibility’ I had a teenager who had shown interest and ruled her out simply on the basis of her age. Sure, I really enjoyed her company, we even went out on platonic dates a couple times, but a gorgeous person like her would never want a guy like me, given my age, average looks, and height—especially since I was a truck driver at the time.

Do you know the profile of the guy she married?

Yup, he’s older than me, no taller, very average as far as appearance and—a truck driver.

That’s one of the reasons why I felt confident about the impossibility, that I would not make the same mistake of assuming her disinterest or letting these things be a factor. But I would have no such luck, I would be disqualified by my age, despite my accomplishments, and there was no convincing this young woman otherwise. She felt I was useless concerning her ambitions.

I really can’t figure it out, but maybe I have gained perspective:

“I used to think that my life was a tragedy, but now I realize, it’s a comedy.”

Joker

The absurdity is that when I was serious and sincere the girls that one would think would be most attracted to me ignored me. It really did hurt. My confidence took a serious nosedive after years of this kind of treatment. But since then, I’ve learned that the impossible odds that I faced were a result of false advertising, not reality, those who I thought had great faith were fake.

It’s better to laugh at these kinds of people and move on to those who can appreciate what you have to offer. They aren’t worth your disappointment or tears. Treat them like the absurdity, not an impossibility, and move on. They’re the joke, not you.

And 9 out of 10 giggling Amish girls agree!

Edit 07/16/2022: Upon reflection of my tone, I realized that my fleshly desire for justice had leaked through and had taken the blog down to avoid looking bad.  However, it has never been my desire to sugar coat of gloss over my own failures.  That is why I have decided to republish this blog with this disclaimer added.  The real point is that there has been progress.  It is far better to finally see the absurdity of it all than to be so serious and linger in the hurts.  Absolutely, I do believe there is unfinished business there, things that would be wonderful to resolve over a cup of coffee with the woman who said I would “make a wonderful husband” and yet my life no longer needs the approval or validation of the culture that she came to represent.  No, I’m not 100% free, I have my moments of sadness.  Nobody said that leaving father and mother (Matt 19:29) would be easy nor that we wouldn’t foolishly long for Egypt and slavery again.  Still, my hints of lingering bitter aftertastes aside, things are going well when I’m able to laugh rather than cry about the devastating events of my past.