Margaret and Jacob, while in courtship displayed exceptional love languages to each other that it was not possible for them not to speak to each other before going to bed, even when one person travelled out of their primary location. Gifts, emails, dates, hugging and holding each others’ hands IN RIGHTEOUSNESS was normal; however, when they eventually got married and had their first child, the attention they were giving each other started shifting, things deteriorated that they don’t even remember each other’s birthdays. The marriage became an enduring union rather than a peaceful union;
What do you think went wrong…?

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Daystar cell fellowship faithfuls would have noticed that for three weeks now, those who prepare our outlines have tried to make things more interactive. They started with a diagram on June the 13th and asked us to comment, and for two subsequent Sundays, we’ve had case studies; exciting scenarios that make us stay past closing time. Last Sunday’s had this case study, and we were asked to figure out why a loving courtship turned sour. I read up, saw an expression, paused, read it again, and I let it pass. In fellowship, I can’t remember who read this part of the outline, but I’m thinking its one naughty someone, she read, or at least, wouldn’t let that one line pass: HOLDING HANDS IN RIGHTEOUSNESS? Can you hold hands in unrighteousness? Is there a hidden message? Why didn’t the drafters stop at “holding hands”?

Well, I guess we acknowledged (in righteousness), the existence of this qualifier, but like that naughty someone, I have decided to make a generation out of two pregnant words. It’s not just about the outline, or these contextually clumsy words, really. It’s about asking a question that we’ve asked ourselves time after time. In love or lust, seeking justification, or out of sheer inquisitiveness, in rebellion, or on the verge of compromise or victory, all, or almost all of us have asked, on many-a-dates, whether a loving press on the hands, a side-squeeze of a hug, a full frontal hug, a peck on the forehead or the chin, oh, a kiss, a cuddle, a handle would be going too far, and slipping into unrighteousness.

I adopt a popular definition of righteousness, by the way, as right standing with God, and I ponder: when would I have touched too much to affect this standing?

So this piece is about loving touches, quote or unquote. It’s about the sense of touch as a love language, and our spiritual wholeness. In bland terms, it’s about the squeezes, the hugs, the kisses and all what not, and the trans-generational question that any guy in a relationship with a hottie (Emi ni number 1, iwo ni number 2!), or any babe in a relationship with a hulk would eventually have to ask: When does ‘romance’ end, and sin kick in? How far will be too far in God’s loving eyes?

I grew up in a church where we sat down and worshipped; where piercing your ears was a ‘sin’, and where, to date, you had to go through a series of screenings, more like trials (and tribulations). I witnessed an uncle date an aunt, no touches, hugs? lai lai! Our house was their meeting point, the poor man couldn’t even look intently into his lovers eyes. They got married afterwards, decent couple, really, blessed with children. Happily married? Never had a chance to ask them, never will. But methinks that the total bamboo dating robbed them of permissible loving touches. It also never guaranteed that the ‘bro’ kept the ‘sis’ fully clad in his heart- and we understand that Jesus gave us all a higher standard: No internally produced pornography was what I believe He was trying to tell us: don’t say it hurts nobody, it hurts you!

Anyways, that was a decade ago. What’s happening today: Brothers no longer “receive” sisters; we all have fired pastors who used to be our intermediaries, we no longer need visions, dreams and loudspeaker voices to confirm our life partners…Men now live alone and have sisters visit; youths have canvassed a right to privacy and won- so parents give us hugging and necking time and space…One date, two, three, ten , and if you’re Deeper-life bred like me, you’ll get to ask the question: Can I…Can’t I…Just this once? Can the cameras of heaven stop rolling this once? Lord, may I deliver this kiss just this once? Heaven knows it never stops at one…How far is too far?

Spare the time to make my issue yours, but for your curious minds, here’s where I stand:

Hottie and I have agreed that our first kiss will take place during our wedding rehearsals. I proposed cos I’m hoping that we have a liberal priest, and I plan to be so clumsy, (Like a JJC, you know?) so as to have our puzzled priest ask that we repeat the “you may kiss the bride” part as many times as possible. (She doesn’t know this mischievous plot, and I’m afraid I’ve blown my cover!). She’s also yet to find out if our church allows for kissing the bride and for rehearsals; (If they don’t, I’m doomed; it means no vows, no kiss (es), kai!!). Many times, I’d wished I didn’t share the idea with her, of us having to wait this long; often, I’d wished she didn’t agree- but I just can’t take the chance of letting one kiss slip by, and another, and another- and then find out that the Holy Spirit had long taken a walk. Ask King Saul what happens when He does.

A lot’s been about my big mouth and her pout, glossy, dazzling lips: Having both meet will be combustible! It’ll be too far for me, and I know it. Okay. And my hands? I remind me of King Kong: They’re huge; they type dexterously- you can see what they’re capable of already- they want to explore and conquer. If I touch anything tender, there’s no stopping them…I’m stopping at the hugs- she actually stops me before the clocks reads sixty seconds, that’s unfair, I want to hold her more…I’ll stop at the hugs; I stroke her weave on; her hands I hold, her shoulder I hold in a big-brotherly protective kind of way. I grew the liver to poke in a tickle last evening, usually; a kiss should follow…Stop D!
Truth is: these ‘adventures’ end with me rolling on the bed saying Lord, I’ve missed it before…I’ve had your spirit leave before because of these errant fingers and lips…; not with us, not this time…Lord, have I gone too far already? Help me Lord, never, never again…

I understand that it is not about the touches alone, and I tell her, really, that she’s a hottie; she’s terrifically endowed; how I know? I can see, but I can’t look. Truth is: She walks in front of me and I switch to blurry vision mode- you can’t understand, ani babe yii hot se…I’m not allowed to think about kissing and all the touches I’m, not ready to give- I’m typing this, and honest, I think I’m not doing badly, although I’d love to know what heaven thinks of my efforts so far…

My submission: When the lips touch, it’s too far. When a guy’s hands deliberately find the soft spots, then it’s too far. When a guy thinks about candle light dinners, it’s not too far. When he imagines a kiss and is like- thank God, one day…His mind’s just fleeting, it’s not too far. When he dwells in this thought and wants to build a tabernacle like Peter, then it has gone way too far.

That’s about me; and I’m in ****load of trouble already for disclosing too much. I’ll borrow two of Daystar’s fictional characters as I ask of you finally: How far can Andy touch Angie before the Spirit of God takes a walk?

Please keep your comments c*ns&r#d!

1st of all d foundation of d marriage is faulty,no mutual understandin,d 2 av totally opposite ways of thinking n handling issues of course dat kinda relationship cant last talkless of MARRIAGE

Mehn see novel now.