Dear Madam,
You probably don’t remember me. We met at the Louisiana March for Life—let’s say, between
five and ten years ago. At the end I saw a very pretty thin lady with white hair—you—leaving
with one of the “I regret my abortion” signs.
Say something to her.
I heard the words very plainly in my head. I don’t know what to say, I argued. Talk to her, the
urge continued. I’ll probably say the wrong thing, I countered nervously. Talk to her!
It was getting very insistent as we were passing each other by. Finally I blurted out “Thank you
for being here.”
You stopped, turned around, and gave me a hug. Then you looked very intently into my eyes
and asked “Are you dating anyone?”
Interesting opening line. Ironically, I could literally look over your shoulder and see my very
recent ex boyfriend in the crowd behind you. The fact that he was there was one of the things I
really liked about him. That morning I had been crying my eyes out telling God “It’s not fair! I
finally meet a man with the right attitude about children, but he doesn’t have the right attitude
about women!”
“Nooo…” I answered you slowly, glancing sadly over your shoulder.
“When you are,” you continued with that same intensity, “bathe that relationship in prayer.”
Okay, call out number one. In all of my recent stress my prayer life had been floundering. The
worst time to slacken off, I know, and a sure sign a relationship is not healthy.
“And wait,” you continued. “Wait for a man who is as pure as you are.”
Now it really felt like the twilight zone. Okay, I thought: number one, how do you know whether
I’m pure or not? Number two, how do you know what I’m going through right now? And number
three, where on earth am I going to find a man who gets as gung-ho over purity as I do?
Many years went by after this meeting, and life got harder and my dating experiences were
sometimes worse, sometimes equally discouraging. I always remembered what you said
because in the twelve years I was hoping to meet my husband, you were one of ten people who
told me not to lower my standards. Most of my Catholic peers, even older Catholics, and even a
few priests told me things like this:
- “You’ll never be a perfect wife, so you can’t demand a perfect husband who doesn’t look at
porn.”- If you’re not ready to keep your vow to God that you will stay faithful to your spouse, then
you’re not ready to make that vow. Faithfulness to your marriage vow is the bottom-line
requirement for marriage, not perfection.
- If you’re not ready to keep your vow to God that you will stay faithful to your spouse, then
- “Maybe God wanted to give you a husband free from porn but that’s not possible in the current
world.”- With God all things are possible—yes, even breaking completely free from porn. God
does not give us a commandment then not give us the means to keep that commandment.)
“You can’t expect a man living in the world to have a deep spiritual life like women do.” (There
are millions of male saints who lived in the world, not just women.)
- With God all things are possible—yes, even breaking completely free from porn. God
- “If you want to marry a saint, go to the Middle East where Catholics are persecuted. You won’t
find one here.”- God raises up saints in every place and every generation. Until you find one, it’s
better to be single than married to someone who won’t pursue holiness.
- God raises up saints in every place and every generation. Until you find one, it’s
And the all time topper that floored me when I heard it from my practicing Catholic guy friend in
his late twenties: “You can’t expect to find a man who loves God more than you because he
can’t have sex with God.” There are so many things wrong with that statement! But briefly: if he
“loves” you more because of sex, that means he loves sex more than God. A gravely serious
idolatry! And if the reason he “loves” you is having sex with you, he doesn’t love you at all, he
loves sex. Can we say “definition of lust”?
When I tried talking about what I hoped for, or when I stopped dating someone, many of my
peers declared I was hard, proud, demanding, self-righteous, uncompromising, hiding at home
instead of facing the world, couldn’t handle any guy disagreeing with me about anything, naive,
a wreck, out of touch with reality, and, in short, made me feel like everyone despised me as a
terrible person. Interestingly, the women who described me that way had always either set me
up with the guy I rejected, or were bitter about their own love lives. The guys who described me
that way were always regularly watching porn or had other addictions to lust. When I met chaste
men they described me as the opposite.
Sadly though, I was in my late twenties before I found actual groups of other young adults who
didn’t just pay lip service to faithfulness and respect for the human person. That’s true for many
of us. I’m sharing all of this because I want to give encouragement to other young men and
women the way you encouraged me. I know there are many others who are now exactly where I
used to be. They feel just as alone, demoralized, and torn up by the people around them.
So to them, I want to say: wait. It’s worth it. Never settle.
Never accept lust instead of love in a potential spouse. Impatience now is not worth misery for the rest of your life.
When I was twenty-nine, a young man who had been hanging around our young adult group for
several months asked me out. After two months of dating I started sharing more about my past
dating. He told me “Never lower your standards.” (Number eleven!) “If you decide I don’t meet
your standards, I want you to stop dating me and find someone who does.”
No young man had ever said that to me before. Other guys said “If my mortal sins and
selfishness bother you, you’re the problem not me. Lower your standards!” A year later this man
and I got married.
I’d like to tell you about my husband. He is gentle, kind, patient, humble, and pure. He is faithful
to all the tenants of the Faith. He does not look at porn. He does not commit other mortal sins.
He does not lust or grasp after me or anyone else. He not only waited for marriage, he always
insisted that once we were married how fast we moved forward physically was entirely up to me
and my comfort level. (Yes ladies! Gentlemen like this exist!)
He is devoted to the Eucharist and puts God first. He always puts me above himself. He never
demands his own way or insists he’s always right. He does not treat me like I’m stupid; he is
never rude or condescending when we disagree. He never gives me the silent treatment. He
never tears me down with his words. He never lashes out and uses my vulnerabilities,
weaknesses, or confidences as weapons to hurt me. He does not stereotype me or make
negative assumptions about me. He actually pays attention to what I’m saying when I talk to
him. He is incredibly respectful of both his parents and mine. He’s great friends with my brother,
who has Downs Syndrome. He loves children. He is my best friend and by my side in everything
I do, whether it’s encouraging me in my writing, volunteering at the Echo Community Theology
of the Body retreats, or playing hide and seek with teddy bears until two a.m. when we let my little
sister and her friends have a slumber party at our apartment.
In short, he is everything it felt like everyone was telling me I would never find.
Now I want to thank the ten people who encouraged me. Since I have no way to reach you, the
kind and wise lady at March for Life, this is my best attempt. Thank you. You were a most
beautiful consolation from God during a very dark time.
And to everyone in their own dark night of the soul: it gets better. The resurrection happens. The
other day my husband told me “I waited so long to meet someone like you, and to have the kind
of marriage we have. Thank you for never lowering your standards. Thank you for not listening
to bad advice.”
Trust me, that is worth it. Better, trust God. He will never be out done in generosity. You cannot
imagine a marriage happier or holier than the one He wants to give you.
In Christ,
Mrs. Sarah Becnel
Want to dive deeper into this topic? Tune in to one of our latest episodes on our podcast, Lust is Boring
______________________________
Sarah Becnel (formerly Sarah Larue) is the author of nine
books, who loves her Faith and loves writing, and is happiest when
putting them together. Her latest series That They Might Have Love is
for all Catholic young women who want to seek God first in their love
lives and find greater love and joy when they are single, dating, and
married.