Intense script

In a religious college in Idaho I met all types; some fine upstanding forward-leaning driven men with goals glowing in their eyes, some slumping towards the exit, some fiddling with the emotions of my roommates, some pursuing brides, some unsure of what they wanted but admiring the scenery. People count as scenery, too.

I felt that I was in the groove, doing what I was supposed to be doing. You know, you learn what you’re supposed to do in kindergarten, and then first through twelfth grade, and then college… or marriage… or marriage and then college or college and then marriage, but regardless, you keep learning until you find the man you want to commit your life to. It’s a pretty straightforward script, one I had absorbed since I was very young.

My future husband had lost his script, and was just then learning a new one. His mother stressed hard work and faith in God. His father stressed hard work and faith in friends and Democrats. My man had been living a lazy script of working some, drinking a lot, kiting bad checks and spending time with pals. The culture at the religious college where we met was a shock.

I grew up keeping the Word of Wisdom, which was interpreted as: no alcohol, no coffee, no tea, no tobacco; some meat, not huge amounts; lots of grains and plants. My script further specified that men and women are intended to pair up and have children, in families that could continue, through faithfulness, into the next life, into eternity. To that end I chose to live the law of chastity, which meant total abstinence before marriage and total fidelity to my spouse during marriage.

I have questioned the rules, but once convinced that they’re the best available rules, I stick to them. I count it a blessing that my husband, once committed, also committed permanently. We both have needed forgiveness, and we both have forgiven. He made a drastic change in his lifestyle. I am glad I could help support him in this.