As a young practicing Christian, who is by no means devoid of other sins, the one sin that has been a cause of constant worry for me is pre-marital sex.
In reality, I could wake up one morning and give up drinking, give up the occasional puff of ‘loud’, love my neighbor, avoid lying and the rest. But celibacy? That’s another story.
I am an individual who lives her life in full consciousness of the fact that life is temporary. Death is inevitable. And Heaven and Hell are very much real. A lot of the pleasures that we currently seek are temporary.
I understand the fact that chasing an eternal crown of glory is a much better way to spend one’s time than chasing five minutes of pleasure with an individual you most likely are not going to settle down with.
A part of me always worries that if something happened to me and I lost my life, I would arrive at the gate of Heaven and Angel Gabriel would read out all my good deeds and the 1001 reasons my Father in heaven is pleased with me, only to follow the list with a massive “BUT”.
“Remember last week, when you were bent over the table, in X’s office?”
“Remember one month ago, when you were canoodling with that your ex boyfriend, in that expensive hotel in Abuja?”
Then I would be banished to the eternal flames of Hell for eternity, simply because I couldn’t keep my legs closed.
The Bible is clear on premarital sex. There is no “but”. No exception to the rule.
You are only better off health wise & reputation wise, if you only indulge in sex within a relationship. However, at the end of the day, whether it’s a one-night stand or a night with your boyfriend, you are still committing a sin if you are not married. But we live in a time when, even those who aren’t promiscuous are sharing their bodies with their boyfriends and girlfriends. A committed relationship automatically comes with a side of hot steamy afternoon debauchery with said committed partner.
With all this in mind, I want you to judge whether my friend would have been better off saving herself for marriage and marrying this guy or trying out the merchandise before marriage. I mean, it is not a toy, it’s not like you can return it. This is a true-life story.
Funlola is 26. She is single and searching, somehow born-again (lol), has a great job and a crowded CV. She is dark-skinned, bold, brash and very beautiful. The dating streets had not been kind to Lola, as we fondly called her. Like the rest of us, she had focused on school and her career and somehow convinced herself that by 25, a husband would magically appear and walk her down the aisle.
Well, guess what? 26 was well and truly here, and there was still no sign of the much sought after husband. What everybody fails to tell you is that, the closer you inch to 30, the more you realize that you’re competing with leggy, thinner 23-year-olds, who are still fun, care-free and don not come with a side of “Where is this relationship headed?” or “You know my biological clock is ticking!”. You’re competing, and losing woefully.
I know you are about to say marriage isn’t everything, but when you have everything you could ever want at a particular stage in life, you start to crave the things you don’t have, like marriage and, more importantly, companionship.
Maybe God had finally gotten tired of her whining, but on that fateful Sunday afternoon, just as she danced to the altar to deposit her tithe, their eyes met. Ore. What better place to meet the man of your dreams, than in the house of God. She had no doubt at the back of her mind, that God had orchestrated this meeting. Ore was perfect on paper. God-fearing, patient, hard working, from a decent family. And yes, he was fine. More importantly, he wasn’t sexually pushy.
Five months into their relationship, the most they had done was a less-than-steamy make out session which he cut short before it had a chance to blossom into anything else. Initially, it felt like she was back in her second year of university. Since she became sexually active, she had never dated a guy without going all the way.
She did worry that perhaps he wasn’t that into her. Normally, she was used to the guy initiating sex, and then having to play the role of holding him back. This time, nothing. As her friends however, we felt she had absolutely nothing to worry about. He was perfect; he showed no signs of wandering. Perhaps it was for religious reasons he wasn’t that sexual. One of my girls sympathetically offered that he was probably saving it for marriage. So she soldiered on, on her involuntary journey towards celibacy.
By the sixth month, still nothing. After a dinner date, that somehow rounded off with one too many cocktails, she decided to make her move. When they got into his car, she pounced. And to her utter surprise, he responded. 20 minutes of intense making out, and no hard-on. Then suddenly he stopped and mumbled something about rushing home to tidy up some things. Again, things ended. Yet again, she went home unsatisfied and feeling unattractive. She wasn’t Beyoncé or anything, but this was a first for her. It never even required a full-blown make out session, to get the sails up. Maybe he wasn’t that into her after all.
That weekend she decided to try again. And this time, he stopped her, sat up, held both hands and came clean. It turned out the sails just couldn’t go up. It had absolutely nothing to do with her. He had seen a doctor and spent a lot of money, all to no avail. He promised her the world. Promised to love & cherish her all the days of his life. He promised to give her everything but sex and, inevitably, children. She said nothing but she knew it was over.
In another six months or so, she could have been marrying this guy thinking she was getting the perfect, sexually pure man of her dreams and shaming the devil. She would have made this major discovery on her wedding night, after she had signed the dotted lines in front of God and family. What would she have done then?
Lola’s story really shook my initial beliefs about premarital sex. What is your take? Would she have been better of marrying him, without any attempts to have sex only to later find him to be sterile? Or was she better off trying the merchandise before marriage, and then finding out that something was wrong before making a life-long commitment?