January 3rd was my birthday. I turned 41. I mean 31. Actually it’s 41 but no way you would think that by looking at me. Thank you Jesus.
I’ve always had amazing boyfriends. The kind my female frenemies would go after. Men who stood out in a crowd and had a certain charisma.
They were either extremely good looking, very intelligent, entrepreneurial, successful, sharp dressers. Something.
Very tall. There was always something about them.
I dated a British photographer in Dubai who was commissioned to take the first sunrise of 2011 on the highest floor of Burj Khalifa. He pretended I was his assistant. We also went for Formula One in Yas Marina.
In the USA, my white American ex and I who met in graduate school drove down the coast of California and visited Napa Valley, San Francisco, Carmel and then flew to Las Vegas.
I was lucky when it came to meeting guys. Actually I had no time for God; I was busy wondering what to wear on some hot date.
I decided I was just very lucky in this area and of course attributed the luck to my charm, my intelligence, my something.
This streak of luck came to a screeching halt the day I moved to Sweden. I will not go into details because I live here and people know people I know, but let’s say I had a very bad first experience. Like introduction to men in Sweden. The person was perhaps even racist so I developed a real phobia for white Swedish men. Of course it is not good to generalize a whole population because of encountering one individual, but this was deeply disturbing to me.
My first book, “A Boy Called Les” talks about what I went through and learnt about dating as a Christian single.
I talk about dating-courting as a Christian woman. For instance as I looked back, I suspect the devil used men to derail me and keep me away from God. Keep me away from my destiny.
Because seriously, good looking men would stop me in my tracks. My heart would race, palms sweat the works.
Swedish men are beyond good looking. It’s like looking at a fashion runway daily. Jesus. The only thing that makes me go on my business is the thought that someone could be racist. It’s not like you can find that out on a first coffee date.
I have suspected men were being sent to derail me, big time. I admit I was kinda whorish. Just a little bit.
Nowadays I am not whorish at all. I am celibate actually. I surrendered the man area to God. My book is about that journey.
One day I was reading Priscilla Shirer’s study The Armor of God. Lo and behold I read the following on page 28.
The enemy is a master at choosing the right kind of bait to snag you. Sure, he uses some overaching, one-size-fit- all tactics to disarm God’s people in general, but he doesn’t use only one type of bait for every person, or even the same type of bait for any one individual over time. No, he carefully considers and calculates your current situation, taking into account your weaknesses and strengths, your interests and tendencies, your history and past abuses, everything. Then, utilizing this available information, he crafts a specific strategy to hook you in and reel you in. Don’t believe it? If you look carefully, you’ll notice that the battles your enemy wages against you- especially the most acute, consistent ones – possess a personality to them, an intimate knowledge of who you are and the precise pressure points where you can most easily be taken down. Random accident? I don’t think so. These areas of greatest fear and anxiety in your life are clues to some important spiritual information. They reveal, among other things, that a personalized strategy has been insidiously put in place to destroy your vibrancy and render you defeated. It’s been drawn up on the blackboard by someone who knows from experience how best to exploit your areas of vulnerability.
OMG. She confirmed in detailed writing what my regular mind had guessed. I love Priscilla. I so want to be her one day.
She has a Master’s degree in Biblical Studies and her ministry is focused on the expository teaching of the Bible. I had to google expository.
OK so now coz you surrendered the man thing to God, does it mean you are not susceptible to them anymore?
Men are still my Achilles’ heel.
It’s just that now I know they are and I know I have to flee temptation like Joseph. Exodus 39: 12 NIV But he left his cloak in her hand and ran out of the house.
I also have a thing for black men.
I have been trying to move back to the USA since I came here.
But all my doors were closed and in despair I went to be prayed for by a visiting pastor. And she talked about how God knew where I was and He orchestrated it.
Like really God?
That’s God for you; speaking in parables.
“Details God, I need details.”
“But if I give you details, how will you exercise your faith?”
I think God is aware men are still my Achilles heel. I have a funny feeling if I lived in the USA and was constantly surrounded by good looking black brothers, I would not focus on anything. Whatever thing God wants me to do would go undone.
At least here I am not distracted. My point is men can be used to derail you. Men can be your bait or weak spot. On page 33, Priscilla describes 10 of the favorite strategies the enemy uses to attack women. Men can directly influence some of them, and can still play a subtler role in the rest of them.