
I am the Salmon. Not in the psychedelic, drug infused, Beatles, "I am the Walrus" kind of way, but in more of a metaphoric, poetic, analogy kind of way.
I don't know if I was just naive, or if i was overly hopeful, but I realized today that I am most certainly swimming against the cultural torrent. During class today I was able to have a conversation with some of my students about what I am like outside of school. Somehow they had the impression that I am just like every other person they know and that I drink and cuss and sleep around when I am not teaching. They also thought I was 30 or older, so that gives you a hint about their powers of perception. But the sad thing is, once I started telling my students what I am like, they didn't believe me. They were convinced that I was lying to them.
I realize that the cultural norm is far different from the way I choose to live my life, but am I really that much of a minority? These kids had no idea that someone like me existed in this world. They had never met someone who holds the same values that I do. What a grim realization. No wonder these kids face the things they face and have the attitudes they have. It is a dark world they live in. A world in need of Light. A world that is so dark they are blinded when confronted with the Light (H.G. Wells' "Morlocks" are not a bad analogy here...).
As much as I care for my students, I found it frustrating that at the end of the conversation a number of them were pitying me as if I am the one who is missing out on something. I wanted so badly to confront them with the truth, but they couldn't understand. They have a "now" mentality. How do you share a message of hope (which is by necessity about the future) with someone who is incapable of thinking about the future?
I realize now more than ever the importance and beauty of waiting patiently and prayerfully for my bride, whoever she may be. The odds are against me in finding someone with the same values and faith as I have. But that doesn't matter because my hope is in my Savior. No matter when, where, or how I meet my bride, I can trust in Him. It is unlikely that I can find someone who will measure up to the standards God has given me to expect in a woman, which is why I can't find her. I'm letting go. It's no longer my responsibility to find her. Instead I am living with the expectation that she will be God's gift to me, because there is no better way.
So I am swimming upstream. At times it is tiring and I wonder if I will make it. But there is something inside of me driving me to keep pressing on until I reach the headwaters.
