Courtship is Not the Answer

The concept of courtship (viewed as an alternative to dating) is at times controversial. Greatly acclaimed by some, it is likewise highly scorned by others. There is nothing sacred about the word “courtship” as compared to the word “dating.” Courtship is not a magic wand that can suddenly transform a romantic relationship into a holy pursuit. It is not a miracle cure for the world´s relationship ills.  As a term, a concept or a set of principles, courtship is not the answer. I am more convinced every day that there is only One Answer in this world, and His name is Jesus. So why do I choose to use the word courtship at all?

Let me clarify something really important. I learned from personal mistakes that courtship is not about saying “no” when asked out on dates, it is not about potential suitors talking to your parents, it is not about going out on group dates instead of dates alone with your boyfriend/girlfriend, it is not about not having sex or not kissing your partner prematurely, and it is most definitely not about trying to be different from the world by sheer will-power. 

Courtship is deeper than outward behavior. Courtship is a matter of the heart and the heart of the matter is Submission.

Submission may not sound very inviting, but it is the most peaceful place in the whole world—a place where deep joy and freedom abound. When I use the word courtship, it encompasses principles that apply long before I meet “the one” and which continue to be relevant after marriage and into eternity. Courtship is:

1. Submitting my emotions/feelings to the truth of God.

2. Submitting my future to the wisdom and Love of God.

While our emotions are an incredible gift from God, they are not to be our guide, especially when we´re talking about life´s most important decisions. Surrendering our fantasies, attraction and romantic feelings to God (yes, even when the other person is a wonderful, godly potential partner) takes away the emotional clutter and distraction from our hearts and minds so that God can make the first move, so that God can give us clear indicators when it´s the right person and the right time.

We often are in danger of elevating ourselves above God and thinking we know more about how to bring about a beautiful future for us than He does. A true follower has cast his life into the hands of the master. Don´t you agree that the most beautiful love stories will result from casting our lives into the hands of Love itself? When we learn day by day to fully trust Him and be satisfied with Him, our hearts can be set free from concern about who or where our future spouse is.

In God´s great wisdom, He has prepared parents or godly mentors who help us take our submission experience deeper yet. Sadly, many young people outwardly go to friends, family or pastors for counsel but are inwardly not willing to submit to that counsel due to their emotions that are already invested in a certain guy/girl. In turn, many parents, pastors and mentors are unprepared to give good counsel that would draw forth a greater experience in submission. However, if you know that your parents or mentors have a true connection with the God of heaven, there should be no fear but rather great peace and rest in knowing that they are on your side, they will fight for your future happiness and will guard you from unwise decisions.   

The principles of courtship draw my eyes away from self-trust and call me towards the sweet Lover of my soul. 

Courtship should never be put on a pedestal. Courtship, in and of itself, is not the answer, but it points me to the Answer. The principles of courtship remind me Who should be at the center of my thoughts, heart and life. You may call it by a different name, but for me courtship comes down to an attitude of the heart, an attitude of dependence and submission that I believe greatly pleases the Creator.  

Imperfect

We all know a bit too much about imperfect.

It´s all around us. It´s inescapable.

Imperfect is when a college student does not return from class because they´ve been shot.

Imperfect is when the kids in El Salvador´s streets cannot avoid gangs, rape and empty futures. 

Imperfect is when families in Syria have access to no safe place on the entire planet. 

Imperfect is when the little girl still thinks her parent´s divorce was her fault.

Imperfect is the 17-year-old in court who has tried to stop smoking marijuana for two years but can´t, and all the rehab facilities have waiting lists.

Imperfect is an irregular heartbeat on an EKG that scares me.

Imperfect is the hidden tears on the young face of one I love. 

We know too much about imperfect.

Our belief in anything—humanity, reforms, beauty, God—waxes thin and our hearts grow tired of loving. But something inside of us shouts for reason…for don´t you only label things as imperfect because your soul also knows that perfect exists? Isn´t all this chaos of imperfection inversely defining some pristine and yet illusive concept of perfection?

Perhaps there is a “perfect” Love that would make us entirely less afraid. Perhaps there is a “perfect” way by which imperfect beings can be made spotless again through the grace and sacrifice of another. Perhaps there is a “perfect” sequence of events weaving itself above and beyond and through all this imperfection. Perhaps the only way for the superiority of Perfection to be made convincingly manifest is to let the ugliness of imperfection run its course. Perhaps this mess of broken and fallen realities will draw us, without force or coercion, to develop a loyalty within us that will never allow this to happen again.

That Word

As I told the story, I cringed when I heard myself saying a certain word.

It didn´t matter that I was speaking in Spanish. It´s a word that has been diluted in every human language. It´s a word that is pure glory... and yet it now barely flickers shrouded in centuries of tainted interpretation. 

I don´t want to use it. But I have no other choice. No other expression comes any closer.

Every time I say it, I feel an urge to expound on it and explain its growing significance in my heart. But my words would probably do it more injustice.

I simply say it…hoping it can fend for itself as it travels on waves of sound. 

Sadly, its truth—a blend of beautiful fragility and echoing power—is mocked, made superficial, or misunderstood by most of us.

The word is “Love.”

I used to subtly dislike the word for other reasons. It seemed too romanticized, too emotional, too much associated with crying. People who “fell in love” often did impractical things and threw wise counsel to the wind. It wasn´t until more recently that I began identifying all the distortions linked to this word. I decided to let go of my notions about what Love was and let God define it for me. Little by little God has been adding to His multi-dimensional definition. This incredible adventure of learning God´s definition stirs me to want to share, write, sing, and be joyously quiet.

And yet I cringe, for neither my weak words nor my amazed silence are eloquent enough…and the word may continue to be misunderstood by us all.

"...for Love is of God..." 

That Was Me

She gave vague answers and avoided a few of my questions altogether. I never did find out how she had ended up alone on an isolated stretch of Highway 36 as the sun was about to set.

I´d glimpsed her sitting on a rock as I maneuvered one of the highway´s many curves. Curious and concerned about her safety, I wondered if I should turn around. In a matter of seconds I had prayed, slowed my car, and almost involuntarily found myself heading back the way I´d come.

I rolled down my window and asked if she needed help. She looked slightly nervous but accepted a ride. As we exchanged some words, I realized very quickly that she was mentally unstable and hearing voices (either due to a psychological disorder, drug use, or both, I do not know).

“Are the voices making you afraid at all or are you okay?” I inquired as nonchalantly as possible.

“I´m okay right now,” she said.

For a few moments I doubted whether it was wise to have a woman like this in my car but then remembered it was God who had made me turn around and give her a ride. I tried not to worry.

“Do you have any cigarettes?” she asked.

“No, I don´t smoke. Are you hungry?” I ventured.

“Actually I am,” she said.

After eating two scones that I had with me, she still was giving me only non-specific responses to my efforts at conversation. I turned on a Christian music CD and focused on driving. A few times I could feel her gazing at me. Our mutual silence was only broken by her random bursts of laughter and a bit of unintelligible mumbling.

As I dropped her off at the store I had agreed to leave her at, I made a last effort to confirm that she actually had a place where she would be able to stay that night. She said she´d be fine as she wrapped her shawl around her arms more tightly and walked away with barely a word of thanks.

I drove back towards home. Her strong body odor lingered in the air for a while. I wondered if there was more I could have done. God seemed to assure me that, just as He had sent me to care for some of her needs, He would continue to watch over her. I thought of how much heaven Loves that scared, muttering, broken lady and I hoped that some part of her knew that I loved her.

Had she seen God´s Love in me? If it had been Jesus in the seat next to me, would I have treated Him any more politely or any more warmly than I did that lady?  

In a way, the true answer is “no” because as Jesus says Himself, “That WAS me.”

“Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” 

Matthew 25:40

Infinite Need (Part 2)

I didn´t even know my own NEED. It was this growing sense that found me walking aimlessly and troubled through the snowy woods. “Oh, to know my poverty, to see my wretchedness, and to feel my need,” I kept thinking over and over. God´s piercing light was working to drill through my autonomy and blinding self-sufficiency. Truth be told, I was slightly terrified that He would never break through and that I would be stuck forever with a proud, lonely, and lost heart.

I sat down on a fallen tree and began to cry. The stunning sunset colors only seemed to represent an amazing love that I would never experience if I never felt my true need for redemption. As my shoulders heaved with pent up emotion, I knew that at least momentarily I was needy. I had nowhere else to turn with my desperation. I felt need…a need for something I knew only God could give…a need perhaps for God Himself. His thoughts of hope, patience, and calling intermingled with my anguished ones. He spoke my name and told me my tears were beautiful to Him. I think I knew then that it would be okay. He still wanted me with a passion, despite everything.  

One place we will never leave, throughout all eternity, is the place of needing God. Never will some spiritual level be attained at which our deep need for His love will disappear. Our desire for independence will fade away but our need for His closeness will only wax stronger. He comforted me by showing me that my struggle and tears were the beginning of me NEEDING Him more…NEEDING Him even to instill the greater sense of NEED in me. He was becoming necessary to my soul´s peace and joy.

I stood and leaned against a nearby fir. I glanced to where I had been sitting previously and realized I barely recognized “that” girl…the girl who moments before had sat dejectedly weeping with her face in her hands. Was that really me? So broken? So helpless? So needy for an understanding embrace and loving word from her God?

Yes. That was me and that is me. I found the real me in a perfect place that I cannot risk forgetting or leaving—the place where I need God more than life.

Our need for love is our need for God. Our need for comfort is our need for God´s arms. Our need for hope is our need for God´s unbreakable promise. Our need for truth is our need for His words. We truly need Him! Our inner being thirsts for Him with an infinite and undeniable need!  Our hearts will indeed wither away and perish without their Creator and Sustainer!

We can pretend that intellectual acceptance of our need is enough, but it isn´t. Mental acknowledgement of our dependence on God is simply a springboard from which to dive into a continual and conscious experience of heart-felt, emotional need. How God wishes to be unashamedly needed! Is your need for Him real?

Infinite Need (Part 1)

(previously unpublished from December 2013)

I stepped off the porch steps and my shoes crunched on the mixture of snow, ice, and gravel. My thoughts were far from confident. I was sure of only one thing…well two, actually. I was sure that God´s love was real and I was sure my only hope was in continuing to seek Him. Five days of inner tumult had worn me down emotionally and just breathing in the freezing air caused tears of desperation to form in my eyes. 

I knew I needed God. But that was nothing new; I had known that for years. The fact was I was being convicted to FEEL my pure need for Him. And that was something I had never deeply experienced. 

His Love had been crashing over me like waves of a passionate sea. I had never known love like this before. I was allured by it and wanted to go deeper. The feeling of being loved as I didn´t deserve provoked rays of love in me towards God that were more beautiful than 1000 sunrises. I truly wanted this encounter to continue into eternity. I wanted this love.

But then the question came, “Do you just want my love, or do you need it? Do you just want to be in a relationship with me, or do you desperately need me?”

I could not move past the question (for five days) because both God and I knew the answer. I was well rehearsed and practiced in the art of professing to need God while inwardly relying on the deception that “I was rich, and increased with goods, and had need of nothing.” I wanted to reply to God´s question and say, “Yes, I need you,” but I could not make myself give a response that I did not feel. I did not feel my true need for Him and thus, I could not correspondingly add one more lie to a lifetime of pretense.  

While relishing in the wonder of this new love experience, my heart was yet failing to fully acknowledge or understand my NEED for this experience with God. He knew there was no other way but to ask me directly and to let the question linger until I was broken. “Do you truly need my love? Because if you don't truly need me, I can't ever become your Everything.”

Don´t Know Why

I don´t know why it happens. Why suddenly I wake up as from a sleep and realize I´ve failed. I´ve hurt someone I love. I have said the wrong thing. I have stood still when I should have made an effort. I have been blind to things that even a blind person would have “seen.”

I wonder how and why. How I got to that place when my intentions were never terrible. Why I find myself having to fix something that I never meant to break.

Disappointment at my failures has a whole new edge to it. Beyond disappointing myself and another person, I have disappointed the God I love. It is unbearable. All I´ve truly desired in recent months is to reflect a vibrant ray of God´s own Love without distortion. I couldn´t do that. I couldn´t reflect Him purely. I stand numb and ashamed. What can a weak and untrustworthy human ever offer to a deeply faithful God?

I don´t know why it happens. But then again…perhaps I do. It drives me to my knees in self-distrust. It humbles me. It is part of a process…God´s process…a process that I won´t ever fully understand…a process that will one day find me stirring with the first morning light and waking up in His own image, His own likeness! One day I will awake incapable of disappointing Him ever again! 

“As for me, I will behold thy face in righteousness: I shall be satisfied, when I awake, with thy likeness.” Psalm 17:15

More.

I struggle with believing. I know so very little. I am, however, convinced of the following.

There is more.

(People don´t remind me of this enough. And so I become adjusted to the self-righteous status quo and satisfied with a slightly above-average level of good deeds and efforts. I do just enough and achieve just enough to consider myself completely happy…most of the time.)

There is more to life, more to God, more to true Love…more than has ever met your eye or entered your imagination.

(Most people don´t look for the “more.” And so I don´t look either because such a search wouldn´t be applauded or understood. I fear the risk of pursuing something Intangible, because what if it´s actually not there?)

Whether you are smiling or crying, brimming with faith or full of doubt, in love with the world or in love with Jesus, indifferent or intrigued, a redeemed sinner or a hollow saint, or anywhere in between…please take a moment to consider—there is MORE.

(People like me gloss over their emptiness and others are overwhelmed by it. Either way finds us wasting away our days and years acquiring more things, debts, pride, experiences, blessings, human knowledge…but missing out on the “more” we were destined for.)

If you have glimpsed a Love of a different order—there is more to be experienced. If you have been disillusioned by people you trusted or ideologies you believed—there is more to life. If you have inherited a blurry or contradictory picture of God´s character—there is more to God. If you think you know what real love is—there is more to true Love. There is more in the limitless heart of God. Undeniable Love? Breath-taking depths? Safe places? Yes, there is more.  

Because Of The Gold.

To see God digging in the dirt is shocking at first. He digs deep into the hardness. Shoulder and back muscles stiffen with repeated effort. The dirt caves in. He starts over. His hands blister. An occasional tear traces down His dust-covered face. Never resting He does not lose the determined urgency in His eyes. When He makes notable progress, a smile breaks like the dawn. 

He evidently knows something that we don´t. What is it that He seeks?

He seeks what was lost—Divine glory that once rested upon creation. We see the crust of filthiness and dross covering us…God tenaciously sees the gold. Though lost to our view, He believes it is still below the surface.  It is valuable to Him. He is willing to risk all for it.

God drew up a plan of salvation based on the belief that His Son´s cruel death would not be in vain. God trusted that at least one sin-tainted heart would submit to the power of love and grace and be made perfect. God trusted that the pure gold in us could be found and restored. He believed we could be renewed. The Divine belief in us is beyond our understanding. But it makes sense to Him. He never considers that His ongoing sacrifice is for naught…because of the gold, because of the treasure, because of the pearl of great price that He loves, because of you.

He knows our capacity for failure. He also knows our capacity to shine and excel. He will trust us until we begin to identify more with the gold that is visible to Him, than with the dross that keeps us weak and unconfident. His trust (and the pain we feel when we break that trust) will remind us that we are called to perfection…it will also remind us that He who called is faithful to perform. If He does not stalwartly believe in us, He cannot transform us. Thus, His heart will submit to being battered, for there is no other way for us to truly grow and for the gold to start emerging.

It's not a game of "make-believe" or "pretend" for Him. God actually sees the gold in us. He put it there. He glimpses it and says, “Let us trust this soul as if it were entirely worthy of our trust. Let us confidently believe in what this dross-covered mess was created to be. Let us trust in order to make what is weak, strong…what is dirty, into gold. And presently our trust will make this soul absolutely trustworthy.”   

When I see God digging in the dirt, I have to believe too. I have to accept His absolute belief. There WILL be hearts that allow God´s love to pull them from the mire and purify them as gold.  

          

Replay the song, pick the flower

I never prayed for the miracle. It found me.

I used to be afraid of miracles. I was content reading about miracles long ago and far away in Bible stories…until pure grace turned my perspective upside down. The miracle of God in my plain, unworthy life made me face my fears…the fear of seeing my own helplessness, the fear of being challenged to change, the fear of having to invest my whole life standing by a miracle that I truly believed in.

The funny thing is that my reaction has been quite the opposite. I stretch out my hands to ask for what I was previously fearful of. Songs I´ve heard often enough now break me and challenge me to radical belief. Rain-kissed flowers reflect a love story that is changing my world. I have no desire to get over my amazement and return to my comfortable routine. My only desire is for the miracle to continue…for my breath to be taken away unceasingly…for the reality of God´s kind of love to transform me.

A taste of the miraculous has made me hungry for more. The depth of God´s love is like the call of the wild. I cannot stop hearing its echoes, seeing its beauty even in darkness. I replay the song…I pick the flower…I pause in the light of the sunrise or sunset. 

I am no longer satisfied with hearing a song in a new way…I want to hear it over and over…I want the miracle to reach deeper within. I am no longer happy recognizing God´s love in a flower…I want to touch it…I want to keep its color forever between the pages of my journal.

I want to lose track of all skepticism and realize that the miracle that began many months ago is not stuck in the glorious past. The miracle will continue if I replay the song and pick the flower and let God transform all my fears into new levels of faith. This miracle is an eternal gift from God´s heart to mine and I will not forget. This is just the beginning.   

 

What the Greatest Commandment Doesn't Say

Seven words with a type of magnetic quality. I keep being pulled back to them. The words click into my consciousness at least once a day and my brain cells fire anew trying to decipher why the phrase is so important, so unrelenting, so difficult to process and store neatly on the shelf. Why is this line of syllables distinct from the thousands of other lines of information traveling through my mind?

“Thou shalt love the Lord thy God…”  

Love Him. It doesn´t say…love the idea of Him. It doesn´t say…love what He does for you. It doesn´t say…love the blessings He bestows. It doesn´t say…love how He makes you feel. It doesn´t say…love the values that He taught.

It says LOVE HIM.

Love Him. It doesn´t say…acknowledge Him. It doesn´t say…think about Him every morning and sing about Him at church. It doesn´t say…obey Him. It doesn´t say…worship Him. It doesn´t even say…believe in Him with every fiber in your being. 

It says LOVE HIM.

The follow-up phrase drives the thought deeper. It describes a ridiculous level of loving. It articulates what true love requires. It depicts the passion-infused, life-consuming way in which He desires to be loved. Each mention of “ALL” seems to pierce our spiritual complacency…

"...with ALL your heart, ALL your soul, and ALL your mind."

My attention drifts, and then is drawn back. These words trouble me, but for some reason I can´t leave them alone. I realize that this verse intrigues and taunts me because it presents an impossibility. It shouts radicalness and depth of devotion that I am not only uncomfortable with, but completely incapable of.

Why in the world would He ask of us something that we are powerless to give?

Perhaps simply so that we would discover our need for the only One who makes impossible things possible. Love is the Truth, the Life, and the Only Way. This is what the greatest commandment DOES say!

Time to tell you...my secret

I have a secret. I´m thinking about writing it down. Is it still considered a secret if it´s saved in a Word document—black font on a screen?  I´m unsure what to do with it. Should I tell you?

Even thinking about it…it sounds so self-centered. Yet this is me—Ariana—being transparent.

I´m going to whisper it. It is a secret after all.

“All I have ever, ever really wanted…”

(deep breath) “Yeah, all I have ever, ever really wanted is to be unashamedly and steadfastly loved.”

My secret looks vulnerable typed out for anyone to see. It makes me appear needy, desperate, and selfish in my own eyes. It´s like I´m one of those people, those whiny girls, who think “everything” is about them.

Somehow today I was ready to face my secret head on. It is a truth that has caused me to hurt others or show them false kindness. It has inhibited me from purely loving because I have subtly looked for people to meet my own needs. The motives behind my actions have been so often tainted by my secret. The secret scares me because of how pervasively it has affected everything I have chosen and done in life (the wise as well as the unwise decisions). At the same time my secret thrills me because embedded between the syllables is the realization that all I have ever really needed was God Himself! Seeking this love in so many of the wrong places, my disappointment has opened my mind to the greatest reality—there is a love more wondrous than I have ever dreamed of.  Perhaps this is why I can at last acknowledge my secret…because incredible glimpses of God´s love have been enticing me with what I´ve always wanted.

As only the true Lover of my soul would do, He volunteers to share His own secret in return.

God whispers, “All I have ever, ever really wanted was for one of those who I have unabashedly loved to love me back to such a ridiculous degree that the two of us would lose track of ourselves in a joyous vortex of giving and receiving, and finally simply be one in love.”

His innocent dream melts me. I feel less ashamed, and more amazed. He IS love! I was created to be His!

I share my secret with you for one reason…I thought perhaps it might be your secret too. God and I didn´t want you to think you were the only one. Oh, and that kind of ridiculous love you´ve always secretly longed for…well it TRULY EXISTS!  

“I have loved you with an everlasting love, and with loving-kindness I have drawn you.” Jeremiah 31:3

“That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us…that the love wherewith thou hast loved me may be in them, and I in them.” John 17:21

Keep Falling

I can still picture the scenario. My friend urged me to go over a relatively easy jump on my mountain bike. I couldn´t resist the challenge in her voice and sped up towards it. It was in mid-air that I realized I hadn´t really calculated my landing and I was pretty much headed for a large ditch to the right. Either way I knew I was going to be unsuccessful in staying upright with my bike. With my inexperience, I´d either crash into the ditch or crash trying to swerve away from it. 

The feeling of falling through the air lasted only a split second. But in that second I winced and braced myself for the impact.

Lately, the falling sensation has come back more than once. The feeling of having my assumptions, my petty ideals, and my comfortable self-image being snatched out from under me. I look up at the starry sky and realize that I´m not what I thought I was. Just like that…the ground disappears beneath me and I am falling!

It´s disconcerting. It´s humbling to know that I have so many platforms of complacency and self-delusion to fall off of as I try to earnestly seek God. I often cry as I fall—tears that taste of both remorse and relinquishment. I don´t like the falling sensation. It´s intimidating not knowing how or when I´m going to land. As gravity pulls me downward, I sometimes begin to think that God must have forgotten me. I brace myself to be hurt. 

The impact surprises me every time. For some strange reason, I land gently on a rough, solid structure. My arms cling to the warm wood that has stopped my fall through space. It is a cross. It is the cross where justice and mercy embraced. It is the cross where true love won. It is the cross where Jesus and I can be one. It is the cross where death means the promise of new life.

My heart relaxes. This landing was nothing like I had imagined. Just as I was fairly unscathed from the tumble on my bike, this is a safe place to fall. I don´t mind falling onto the cross—onto the efficacy of heaven´s ultimate sacrifice. I don’t mind even dying here. I don´t mind being impacted by genuine love.

Again the cross catches me and my plea becomes, “Keep me falling…falling on love…falling into love…falling deeper into my Savior’s heart.”

   

ON FIRES AND LIFE

I bound down the stairs a couple of steps at a time. Gravity faithfully helps me accumulate speed on the descent. As I land at the bottom, I see my mom tidying up the living room.

“It´s much colder down here compared to my room,” I say with a slight shiver. 

“It is,” mom assents softly as she stacks some freshly folded laundry.

The wood stove sits cold and black a few feet away.

I glance at the floor and pause before finally announcing, “Maybe I should offer to start the fire.”

Mom smiles a bit as she turns to go upstairs carrying some clothes. “That would be nice,” she replies with a hint of surprise and irony in her tone.

Newspaper and kindling. Tiny splinters in my hand from the fir bark. But I can´t get my previous statement out of my head. Something about the phrase calls me down a trail of thought. “Maybe I should offer to start the fire.”

If you think the statement betrays selfishness, reluctance, lack of enthusiasm, and laziness on my part, you couldn´t be more right. I want someone else to do it. My own words are an attempt to convince myself that I´m it. Audibly persuading myself to be a “hero” and keep the house warm for my mom.  However, the same words condemn me and confront me with dark revelation.

That deeper revelation is that I avoid starting fires at all costs. It matters little what kind of fire—controversial fires that instigate change, revolutionary fires that inspire, compassionate fires that bring hope. I am instinctively drawn to these fires and admire their power. But when it comes to starting one, I wait. I almost ALWAYS wait. I save my energy. I shiver a bit inside. I stare out the window for a while and dream of warming my hands. I pray for God to send an expert fire-builder. I promise to help tend the fire once the flames are strong, as long as someone else starts the fire.  

Striking the match becomes a very deliberate act.  The blossom of flame grows and begins to blaze. Warmth emanates.  I forget so often that the fire benefits me just as much as those around me. A desire fills me. Perhaps one day. Yes, perhaps in the near future, I will rush towards opportunity. I will start fires without thinking twice about waiting for someone else to do it. I will pick up some wood and strike a match without pausing first to consider whether "maybe I should offer to start the fire."