You know you’re on a date with a Christian boy when he asks you to share your testimony.
This is step one in a lengthy interview process assessing your spiritual maturity and ultimately, your role, if any, as a future Mrs. Proverbs31Women. Well, as a matter of fact, I considered a field this morning. Case closed.
Now, interviews have always been my strength in both the professional context and the metaphorical one I’m presenting here. If I express interest in the job, the initial interview is generally granted. A fun activity, lots of laughter, an awkward goodnight, a follow up call.
Sometimes it fails to go further right here. The boss may realize he can’t keep up with the prospective employee. Or perhaps a deal breaker puts the kibosh on the attractiveness of the position, tendering the interviewees resignation from consideration. (Real life example which may or may not have happened? Singing like my granddad in church. Wow. You are not bringing sexy back right now. Not even a little. Pass the plate, cuz I gotta go. But you stay – the choir number is coming up and you clearly don’t want to miss that.)
Now for a tip-toer, round 2 is a rigorous series of interviews spanning months, turning into seasons. This vetting process is tricky because it’s tough to pretend he isn’t dating, yet thoroughly get a read on my character (although veteran tip-toers are regular Danny Kayes tap dancing around that one). Here cautious introductions to his buddies -ahem – small group, occur. They act like they’ve never heard my name before, but have actually been praying for our relationship for months now and somehow know where I work, where I live, where I went to college and what I’m reading right now. “It’s Megan, right?”
The most complicated proposition for this round is attending church together, especially if you attend difference churches because, ya know, “your worship is just…out there.” Who knew that a worship leader in skinny jeans could be the final nail in that relationship coffin?
Step three in the interview is where the birth of my final, and serious post comes from. The chronic tip-toer keeps digging into intimate spiritual space where he doesn’t belong. This is where I’ve learned to buck the company line: that’s IP that I’m willing share with a company I’m invested in the success of (and that’s paying into my 401k), but not for a company who cannot make a decision around me and my future here.
Ladies, let me tell you, that doesn’t go over real big. All of a sudden that tip-toer finds some running shoes and files his reason with HR: God told me we need to take break. There is not another candidate. I’ll fill this position at a later date, once I’ve bowled a few more frames with Paul.
Finding myself constantly coupled up with a tip toer I can tell you this: they are not climbing any corporate ladders. They aspire to wind up in the place where the shot gunners did but even years later they’re all still bowling with Paul, making White Russians, turning into “The Dude.”