Saturday, December 29, 2007

The Walking Hunters

Again, a true story. I thought of it as I was preparing to step out on my own hunt on this long weekend. Perhaps when I return, I will be fortunate enough to share with you my wife's amazing ability to skillet fry quail. Add some fried potatoes and some homemade cream gravy, and we're talking about something worth writing home about. Without further adieu, I present to you my next offering.
The old Ranch House on an icy cold morning.
It was the best photo I could find.
The Walking Hunters
I grew up in the country in West Texas on a cattle ranch. Every fall, we were besieged by would-be hunters who wanted a free place to enjoy their sport. My father was constantly heading off trespassers who claimed to have permission from the owner to hunt. Well, my father was the only one who could grant permission, and seldom did he allow anyone access to the land.
One particular day, he was hounded by phone calls of people wanting to pay us a visit. To each person the answer was the same—no. Well, around 2 o'clock that afternoon, we came across a vehicle parked in the middle of our ranch road, about 2 miles from our house. My father fought his temper and decided that he should try a more diplomatic response in order to impress on the hunters the importance of integrity and honesty.

He pulled off their hubcaps and removed all the lug-nuts save one on each of the tires. With the lug-nuts gone, the vehicle couldn’t be driven anywhere, as the wheels would come off. He then wrote a note to the owner that said, “If you want your lug-nuts back, you can find them at the house.” He then drew a map where “X” marked the spot.

Three hours later, an angry and weary mob of four was making their way down the long dirt road to our home. My father was waiting for them on the porch—and in the shade—I might add. By the time the rag tag hunters walked all day hunting and then walked another two miles in the heat… well, they were nearly exhausted. They had worked themselves into a lather with anger and threats of what they would do to that “so in so, what stole our lugs.” They were so worn down by the time they reached us that most of the starch had been taken out of their shirts.

Oh, they were mad all right, but one look from my father told them all they needed to know—now’s not the time to start something.

He’d backed them into a corner and won the battle long before it ever began. If we had waited there by that vehicle in the pasture, then we were in for a show down. He taught me that patience and creative discipline could outsmart brawn and anger. Those men had to apologize to my father before he would return their lug-nuts. If they didn’t cooperate with him, then they faced a much longer 17 mile walk to the nearest town. The story got out about the walking hunters and we started getting fewer inquiries about hunting. It seems the master plan was indeed borne from a master.

Saturday, December 22, 2007

A True Story

I want to do something unexpected.

In the light of our new presidential race, (this will be a stretch, so bear with me), I thought of this old article. This story is also a tribute to our soldiers. For many years, our Army faced a daunting enemy in a war that seemed impossible to win. Here is the story of one soldier who paid the ulitimate price so that others might life free. It's a true story.

I wrote this article many years ago for the Texas Highways magazine, but it was never published. I now offer it to you.

An American Hero

On April 5, 1849, Captain Randolph Marcy left Fort Smith, Arkansas with 4 officers, 76 enlisted men, a doctor, a guide from the Delaware Nation, and around 2,000 emigrants bound for Santa Fe and ultimately the gold fields of California. They arrived 85 days latter and Captain Marcy prepared for his return trip. While in Santa Fe, Marcy learned of a trail that ran from El Paso to California that would be more direct than his previous northerly route. He enlisted a Comanche guide named Manuel who knew the country from Dona Ana, New Mexico to what is now Big Spring, Texas. They made camp on October 3 at the immense reservoir where the water came from the rocks. On October 5, Manuel left Marcy to return along the trail to New Mexico. They set up camp on October 6 approximately 8 miles south of present day Snyder in Scurry County. Marcy was ill and decided to maintain their camp for one more day, a decision that would forever haunt him.

After lunch, on October 6th, Lt. Harrison went to scout Deep Creek only two miles from their camp site. Night came but Harrison failed to return. Thinking that he might be lost, they fired a cannon hoping that he would hear it and return to camp. At dawn, they fired the cannon again but Harrison was still missing. Marcy sent scouts in all directions. Lt. Updegraff and a scout named Black Beaver followed Harrison’s tracks for a mile and a half past Deep Creek. The tracks left behind told the story.

Harrison was met by a party of Indians and joined them riding south. Marcy then sent Lt. Sackett and the dragoons to follow and retrieve Lt. Harrison. They found his naked and scalped body two miles later, just a mile north of present day Dunn in Scurry County in a ravine among some rocks. Marcy moved his camp three miles to the East. By this time, it was too dark to see the trail so they put off pursuit until morning.

A wagon was sent for the body. They dismantled a wagon bed and fashion a coffin for Harrison. His body was smeared with coal tar and packed in charcoal. The box was sealed with coal tar to be hauled to Fort Smith.

Lt. Sackett and the dragoons followed the trail 15 miles. Along the way, they found a saddle and a pair of moccasins that Black Beaver identified as Kiowa. Their horses were too exhausted to continue, so they stopped for the night. Sackett’s party returned to camp on October 9 without engaging the enemy.

Lieutenant Montgomery Pike Harrison was buried with full military honors at Fort Smith upon their return. Harrison was a brother to Benjamin Harrison, who would later become president of the United States in 1889, and grandson to President William Henry Harrison, who died in office eight years earlier. He was also the grandson of the famous explorer Zebulon Montgomery Pike, after whom Pike’s Peak in Colorado was named.

Monday, December 17, 2007


This story is self evident, so I'll let it speak for itself.


Bret Simmons walked into the room and held the door open for Doctor Hal Reed then gingerly shut it behind them. He stood breathless for a moment, “This is very impressive. I have never seen such an elaborate laboratory.”

Simmons smiled graciously. “Thank you, Dr. Reed, coming from a man of your esteem, your words mean a great deal. We are looking forward to working with you.”

“About that,” began Dr. Reed, “what exactly did you want from me?”

“I wanted to hire you to make something.” He paused for effect, “Something big.” When he said “big” his voice grew in awe.

“You were so secretive; I hardly knew what to think.”

“Yes, that is why I paid you so handsomely.”

“Handsomely? I should think so. With the money you paid me, I will be able to continue my research for years to come. You were most generous.”

Simmons waved him off, “think nothing of it. I have followed your research on the beginning moments of evolution for quite some time.”

“You flatter me, of course.”

“None sense.” Simmons cut to the chase, “ I assume that you are a fellow atheist.”
Dr. Reed looked down at his feet. “Well, let’s say this: I am eagerly seeking to prove there is no God.”

“Very well,” Simmons mused. “You may say it however you please, just so that you succeed.” His voice grew irrational. “These…idiotic…religionists just won’t shut up! That’s why I paid you so dearly, out of my pocket, and paid you in advance.”

“Well then, what is our business here?” Dr. Reed seemed eager.

Simmons motioned to a conference table across the room and they took seats around it. “I want you to make the greatest scientific discovery of all time. Moreover, I want you to get full credit for it. I want you to make something, anything, out of nothing.” He clasped his hands together in delight.

Reed leaned forward, “I beg your pardon?”

“I want you to make something out of nothing.” He was matter of fact.

“But,” Dr. Reed stuttered, “How? With what?”

He shrugged, “I don’t care. Just create something.”

“What do you expect me to use?”

“Nothing. Something from nothing.” He repeated.

“I must have something to start with. All matter must have basic building blocks.”

“Like atoms?” asked Simmons.

“Yes, atoms would do nicely for a start.” Reed wasn’t sure if he should laugh.

“Oh no, that won’t do at all,” dismissed Simmons. “You must do it with nothing.”

“But I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t know how.” He was sincere.

“But you are a scientist.”


“You are a Big Bang theorist. Surely you must know something about it.”

Dr. Reed’s pride was injured. “Well, of course I do. I am the leading researcher on evolutionary models.”

“That is why I hired you. You are the best.”

Reed shrugged, “But I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“No one can do what you are asking. It’s not humanly possible.”

Simmons was cross. “Don’t even start that, Doctor. That’s why we must succeed.”

“Why? I’m not sure I follow you.”

“We must prove the Creationists wrong.”


“If they are right then that means I am wrong. It means that there is a God. Do this and prove them wrong.”

Reed shook his head in disbelief. “But I have nothing to start with.”

“There was nothing before the Big Bang,” bantered Simmons.

Dr. Reed swallowed, “Well, there could have been. I mean, there could have been some swirling gasses.”

Simmons leaned forward, “Okay, where did the gasses come from?”

Reed threw up his hands, “I don’t know! Maybe from a previous Big Bang.”

“How’s that?”

“Well,” Reed’s eyes widened, “I surmise that the entire universe is in a great cycle, a long, continuous cycle of beginning and end.”

“Okay, go on…”

“You see, the universe expands into substance and contracts into nothing, leaving only swirling gasses. Then it starts all over again.”

“Okay. What causes the gasses to swirl? I mean, in the absence of solar winds to stir them, or gravity to pull them, what starts the swirling?”

Reed shrugged, “I don’t know.”

Simmons was incredulous. “You don’t know? How is that possible?”

“Actually,” he looked down at his feet. “I might be leaning toward a creator.”

“What?” Simmons shrieked. “But you said…”

“Well, consider it.” He waved a hand in the air and dismissed Simmons concerns. “What about this building?”

“What about it?”

“Where did it come from?”

“Huh? I had to build it.”

“Exactly!” Simmons blank stare probed him to elaborate. “If there is a creation, there must be a creator.”

“A creator?” Simmons was starting to panic.

“Of course. Think of the Mona Lisa.”

“The Mona Lisa…” Simmons repeated.

“Do you think that paint just fell onto a canvas? No, she has a design. There must be a designer.”

Simmons stood up, and then sat down again. “So what are you saying?”

“Someone, not God, created the universe.”

“Who else has the power to create a universe if not God?” Simmons face turned red. “Not that God has the power, but…oh, you know what I mean.”

“Aliens,” Reed said smugly.

“Oh brother.” Simmons groaned.

“Yes! Can’t you see? Aliens created our universe.”

“With what?”

“Swirling gasses.”

“Back to the gas again.” He placed a hand on his chest and groaned. “Then where did the aliens come from?”

“I haven't gotten that far.”

“But, just a few months ago you were certain that there was no creator.”

“Yes, yes, I know. But that just doesn’t make sense. Logically, I can’t make any sense out of it. To think that all of this evolved out of nothing?” He stood and walked to the window. “Take just the sun alone--why imagine it! One million Earths would fit inside of it. And to think, by chance it was 93,000,000 miles from Earth. Any closer and we would burn up. Any farther and we would freeze. And it’s not even a big star; it’s just a smaller average star.

“The sun evaporates seawater, which causes clouds to form. The clouds are driven by the wind and rise to heights taller than mountains, giving the rain needed to sustain life, and purifying the air at the same time. That couldn’t happen by chance.” He observed Simmons rubbing his chest and moaning. “And to think that chance created the human heart. And chance formed the ribs within a human body in the womb? And the human mind, with its unending complex thoughts and desires? Could chance have made all of this? It makes you think.”

Simmons had enough. “But, I…”

“Yes of course! The eye!” Reed was excited. “It has over 43,000,000 nerve endings in it. We can’t even make one nerve cell, much less a functioning human eye.”

“But we evolved slowly.”

Reed shot back at him, “Did we? At what point did our blind nerve cells work in concert to create sight? At what point did our lungs develop the capacity to process oxygen? Can you imagine how awkward the stage was between breathing atmosphere and breathing with gills? At what point did both a male and a female coexist long enough to copulate? I don’t think so, Mr. Simmons!” Reed was parading around as if on a crusade.

Simmons was absolute. “That’s all fine, but I am not prepared to believe in God.”

“Ah yes, God. Me neither. If there is a God, and He is the Creator, then we would be created also, implying that we might be accountable to Him. I am not ready to believe in Him, either. I like my life just as it is.”

“Fascinating.” Simmons mused. “How, then, did the Earth come to be?”

“Aliens.” Dr. Reed nodded in satisfaction, quite proud of himself.

“Aliens?” Simmons paused. “That seems hard to believe, too. After all, they had to come from somewhere also.”

“Perhaps, but the alternative is rather unpleasant.”

“So, then,” Simmons committed, “Aliens?”

“Aliens.” Dr. Reed nodded in approval.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007


While I'm in the mood for poetry, here's another token to the season of giving:


When logs glow warm in the fire
And Mama in a rocker sows
Children yawn, begin to tire
Slide warm socks over toes
With cider brewing in a pot
And sugar cookies are still hot
Drink it in
Little ones
These are memories that smile

When the coals burn deep red
And twinkling lights flicker low
Children reluctant to go to bed
Until they’ve seen new snow
Eager for the early morn
The hallowed birth to adorn
Drink it in
Little ones
These are memories that smile

Saturday, December 8, 2007

The Christmas Poem

We've finally arrived at that special season of mysterious joy and excited wonder. My children are beside themselves with the excitement of the holidays. Unfortunately, they will grow up and the excitement will slowly fade. But, for now they are having the time of their lives! I dearly enjoy this Christmas season, mostly because of having children in that house. They love to shake packages and try to see through wrapping, but it doesn't work for them; their 4400 powers haven't yet emerged. I want my family to make certain we don't get lost in the "extra" things that are happening around us. We must remember the reason for the season.

The Christmas Poem

The rocking chair squeaks
By the morning fire
The house was tense
With Christmas desire

Mom with her quilting
And I with my pen
Awaited our children
In the warmth of the den

For Christmas has come
In the house we now dwell
The home was alive
With scents and smells

Our Christmas turkey
Is roasting nearby
The counters are lined
With many new pies

Hot coco bubbles
Away on the stove
The pleasure of children
Its purpose alone

Then comes a stirring
From up above
Our children approach
To share in the love

Their eyes are alive
With cherished delight
Their feet how they danced
On the stairs of their flight

Small giggles come forth
As they rush to the den
Our family's complete
Let Christmas begin

My daughter sat near
My son in my lap
I opened my Bible
God's present unwrapped

We read the beginning
Of our Christmas joy
And of our Savior
The King born a boy

We then thank God
For the gift He gave
That forgave us our sins
And our souls did save

With our thanks complete
Having told our tales
We hand out presents
And turn to ourselves

We gave a doll house
To our little girl
And a new baby doll
Whose hair was in curls

Our son's great desire
Is to learn to fish
We gave him a pole
And granted his wish

For this family now
Joy is complete
To share Christmas memories
Is always so sweet

But the shame of a baby
Come to save all men
Gave us a gift
To live free from sin

For giving has nothing
To do with gifts

Wednesday, December 17, 2003

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Excerpt from "When Love Calls"

Any one care for a peek? Here's an excerpt from Chapter 5, When Love Calls:

Lilly looked up to see Rees making his way across the long oval dining room floor and waved to him with small, elegant gestures. As she expected, he was in a tuxedo and was incredibly handsome. Everything was perfect. He had a smile that would shake a woman in her soul, and he smiled at her as he sat down. Immediately, the waiter was at the table and pouring him a glass of wine. Lilly allowed the waiter to refill her glass, which she had denied him continually until her date arrived.
“Have you been here long?” he asked.

“No, only a few minutes. Is that the tuxedo you bought the other day?”

“How did you know that?” He seemed defensive.

“Well, you told me on the phone the other day that you were out shopping for a new suit.”

“No, I do all my shopping on line.”

She frowned. “But I could hear the city noises on your phone.”

He was defensive now. “I don’t ever leave my home unless something big comes up. I have to stay in front of my computer all the time, or else I will miss the big deals.” He held up his hand and snapped his fingers, “Tick, tick, I have to be ready to jump when the market moves.”

She sighed. “It all sounds very difficult and important.”

“Well, it’s more than the average investor could handle.” He tried to appear uninterested in their conversation, but it was about him and he loved himself greatly. “I found a hot new stock today.”

“Oh?” she feigned interest. Her father had served as the CEO of three different fortune 500 companies and she had heard these speeches many times before.

“Yes, it’s a small company out of Texas that produces natural gas. It’s called Terax Energy and their stock is so affordable, it’s almost like stealing money; it’s like robbing a bank.”

“I’m glad that you found them.” She sipped her wine and watched him as he glanced over the menu.

“Why did we come here? It seems beneath us.”

Lilly exhaled noisily. “It’s an upscale restaurant, not some burger joint.”

“It might be upscale, but it isn’t the level of attention that I can afford.”

Lilly was more than irritated at his crass remark. “This is one of my favorite places to eat. Especially for breakfast. They have a poached egg plate that is served on top of a crab and potato cake that's to die for.”

“A potato and crab cake? For breakfast?”

“Well, it’s more of a hash than a cake, but it’s wonderful. I’m sure that you’ve seen them before, as much experience as you have in dining.” She grinned within herself as she set him up for a situation that forced him to answer in a manner that he required.

“Oh, of course. I just prefer a continental breakfast.” He stared at his menu as if unimpressed.

“They also serve a pancake with white chocolate and blueberries.”

“I seem to enjoy crepes better than pancakes, don’t you agree?”

Lilly smiled and thought, oh, this is going to be fun! For she immediately perceived that he was a fraud. Rees had probably gotten fired from a menial middle management position at some stock firm and decided to day-trade rather than go back to management. He probably had nothing of the fortune that he portrayed and was desperate for people to think that he came from old money. What made the situation even funnier was that he imagined that Lilly was the type of woman that would help him promote that image. She had mentioned a home in Boston, Chicago, and San Francisco and he assumed she was a woman of great wealth. Actually, she had a grandfather in Chicago that willed his home to her father, and she had a grandmother that left her home in San Francisco with Lilly’s mother after she died. The family maintained the homes out of sentimental value and because it provided housing for Lilly when she was working away from Boston. She was not extremely wealthy, although her family did well for themselves; she was not rich by any regard.
She was a mischievous soul and she decided to torment poor Rees, who was living a lie that he was desperate to keep. Besides, she knew that she would never see him again. She had no interest in a man that would lie in order to impress her. “Speaking of fine dining, I’m certain that you must have stayed at the Fletschhorn Hotel in Switzerland.”

“Humph,” he was again disinterested. “I usually stay at the Waldorf when overseas.”

“Are you sure that you haven’t stayed there? It’s a well known secret among those with social standing. Why, they have a champagne breakfast, which is an incredible continental breakfast, which better suits your tastes. I’m certain that you would remember the evening meals there.”

“Hmm, did you say Switzerland?” He furrowed his brow in thought. “Let me think, it’s been so long since I’ve summered in Europe. The Fletschhorn, you say?” He frowned. “Yes, it seems that I spent a night there on my way to Budapest.”

She had to contain her grin, for he dropped the word Budapest in such a way that she would be compelled to ask about that and leave the present conversation alone. “Oh, you’re being modest. You and I both know that there is a minimum two-night stay there at the hotel. And their evening six-course meal is extravagant. I love the fresh air up there.”

“Isn’t that the small place up in the mountains? I might remember a little more now.”

Snap! The trap sprang and he was committed to being a world traveler. “Well, I know a little more about you now.” She gazed at him with adoring eyes; “You have a great vision for incredible things if you deem the Fletschhorn small. I must travel with you across Europe sometime; I can imagine that you really know how to live.”

“Well, I do the best I can.” He glanced around. “Where is that waiter? These posh restaurants seldom offer good service.”

Lilly now realized how ridiculous, even pathetic Rees was. A moment ago he was upset that the restaurant wasn’t up to his standards, now it was “posh.” “Oh, I don’t know, I have always been treated very special here.” Then she dove in for more, “You mentioned being treated special, at the Fletschhorn, well, you’ve seen their wine cellar.”

“Of course. It was adequate.”

“I should say so! Their cellar is stocked with over 20,000 bottles of the finest in Europe.” She paused while he squirmed. “How big is your wine cellar?”

His face turned red and he pulled at his collar. “I don’t keep much stock here at Chicago. Now my home in Budapest, that is where I keep the best.” Again, he was baiting her to chase rabbits.

She could not contain her smile, but she masked it with a flirtatious question. “When are you going to invite me to spend some time at your home here in Chicago? I’ve heard that it is more than adequate and quite luxurious.”

“Do you mind if we talk about something else? I’m very hungry and the waiter seems to be on a smoking break.”

“Oh darling, you’re being impatient. You’ve only been here a few minutes and you know that these nicer places like to give you plenty of time to relax and enjoy your meal.”

“Well, it’s been a long day. It makes me miss my villa in Budapest.”

Lilly was merciless. “We could stop by your estate in Chicago after we go to the theater, if you like. I would love to spend an evening serenading you on the grand piano.”

“What makes you think I have a grand piano?”

“Oh, I’m no fool. I see a man who loves music hidden inside of your tuxedo. Besides, I’ve heard someone mention your home and piano before.”

“Who would have mentioned me?”

“Well, the last person I heard that mentioned your name was the mayor.”

That got his attention. “The mayor? Of Chicago?”

“Of course! I knew then that you were a man with connections. Besides, I heard about the sizable donation that you made to the Cook County Hospital. Very impressive.”

He shrugged. “Well, I do what I can.” He glanced at his hands nobly, “I can’t be a surgeon, but I can give the surgeons what they need to do their job.”

“Oh, how impressive. I love a compassionate man. The mayor was a bit reluctant to reveal just how much you donated, but he said that it was very generous. Do you mind telling me?”

“Well…” He was scrambling and looking for anything to rescue him. But, the temptation to be important enough for the mayor to mention was too much, and he hung himself. “I don’t like to brag.”

“Oh, you can tell me. I like a man with money. Was it more than a million?”

“As I said, I don’t like to brag.”

She pushed him a step further. “It was more than a million! Well, of course, to you, that’s nothing, I'm sure,” she said as a matter of fact. When he continued to squirm she said, “Please, tell me, how much did you donate?”

“It wouldn’t be proper to tell you.”

“So, you really did make a donation?”

“Well, I…” Suddenly his hand shot into his pocket and he pulled out his cell phone and quickly said, “Hello?” Lilly suppressed a victorious smile when he quietly whispered, “I have to take this. It’s business, you know.” Then he pretended to speak quietly into the phone about P and E ratios with a client.

Lilly reached into her purse and pressed redial on her cell phone without removing it from the purse. Suddenly, Rees’ phone chirped and fluttered, and he found himself holding his cell phone and looking like the fool he was. He glanced at the caller ID and saw that it was Lilly. He frowned and sat back down and said, “How did you know?”

“You were too perfect.” Then she decided to play with him some more, “So, what are you? A conman?”

“No, I'm a day trader.”

“Oh? Do you live alone?”

“And I live with my mom, okay?”

Lilly laughed at him and said, “I would have gone out with a day-trader that lives with his mom, under certain circumstances.” Then she became serious. “But you lied to me, and that is unconscionable and unacceptable. You may settle the bill and find another date to the theater.” With that, she rose from her chair and elegantly walked, no, glided across the room and disappeared through the exit without even looking back.

For more information:

Saturday, December 1, 2007

Demand a Ring

Anyone care for a soapbox? I happen to have one, and I'm willing to share mine...

Demand a Ring

I have noticed that many men and women co-habitat today. Co-habitation is nothing more than a polite way of saying that they are “shacking up”. Why do you suppose that our moral standard has been so degraded that we no longer hold marriage to be important? Scholars and theologians can drown in the depth of that quandary and still fall short of an answer that will satisfy all. My greatest concern in the dilemma about men and women living together outside of marriage is that women must consider themselves worthless in order to do so. Contrary to my nature, I won’t implore a theological emphasis on this discussion, as I can make an adequate argument without the mention of Bible or God.

America has a rich heritage of protecting what is valuable. Patriots throughout our history have willingly suffered, bled, and died to protect our values, beliefs, and valuables. Most of us would be willing to place our values and beliefs above the valuables of our country, and I would be one of them, unless the valuables I mention are our greatest resource – our people. America is what it is today because of the people that live here, not because of what we own or where we are located. America is a great nation because great men and women live here and are totally invested into the betterment of our way of life.

Yet, we are falling short of the mark. If our greatest resource is truly our people, then we have a tremendous miscommunication from the top of our social and moral structure, right down to the lowliest of our citizens. Allow me to be blunt. America’s women are selling themselves short by sleeping with a man they aren’t either married to or going to marry.

Our churches are supposed to be the beacon of what is right and what is wrong, as even non-church goers will admit. Traditionally, churches were the moral compass for our society, continually pointing to what we deemed morally right. After the social and sexual revolutions of the twentieth centuries, our moral compass became fixed on political correctness and gender equality, and failed to point to the traditional values that sustained our nation for almost two hundred years. One of the by products of that moral revolution was the social approval of sexual carelessness. By carelessness, I don’t simply refer to recklessness, although that argument has merit, I mean the lack of care or concern for sexual conduct. The motto, “If it feels good, do it” became our national anthem and we no longer point accusing fingers at a man that failed to make it home after a date, or at the woman that opened her bed to him. Being married became antiquarian and simply stuffy old fashionedness.

I’ve been chasing this rabbit long enough, so I will come to the point. Why should a man get married to a woman when he can get all he wants from her without that stifling commitment? What does a man want from a relationship with a woman? I will leave each reader to determine his own answer, but I think it is safe to say that the average man seeks a sexual relationship first, and love or companionship second. In our not so distant history, the marriage bed was sacred and sexual relationships were reserved for marriage. Despite what Hollywood would have us believe, the majority of Americans were conservative and morally upright. Only in the last few decades have liberal moral interpretations become vogue. I am not referring to Republican or Democrat, rather, I am referring to conservative family values, not political ideals.

If a woman willingly gives her body to the man she is with, why would he be motivated to commit to marriage? While in our recent past, marriage was the only way to sexually know a proper young lady, all one has to do now is be available. I can’t tell you how often a woman will flirt with me at a store or on the phone. I am often weary of talking to a woman and looking at her in the eye, because she misinterprets my intentions and assumes that if I am looking at her eyes that I want to “get to know her better.” I get the distinct impression that I am expected to have sexual interest in every woman that I meet.

I am angry when I realize that women have stepped down from a place of respect in our community and have taken on the role of a sex object. What self-esteem can a woman express when she makes herself available to the selfish gratifications of a man that is not committed to her? After he decides to move on to another relationship, what is this woman to believe about herself? Why is she not to feel used or abused?

I do assert that sexual activity outside of marriage is abusive. The gift of virginity can only be given to one man. Shouldn’t that man be the one that is committed to that woman for life? Why should a woman make herself vulnerable to a man only to have him refuse to marry her or commit to her. So many times, the man will promise to be faithful to her or to marry her someday, but tomorrow never comes and a precious woman wastes her life while waiting on a man who will not respect her enough to not abuse her. I am sorry when I realize how many women invest into a man that continually finds an excuse or perpetually delays on a commitment.

Women are special. They have a tendency to give out physically in order to receive love. Men are special. They have a tendency to give out love in order to receive physically. All too often, women give out a lot more than they receive. After all, a man gets what he wants without having to commit that love that the woman so deeply craves. He simply has to pretend to love her to fulfill his part of the bargain. The woman is the one who settles for the scraps, when she is the one holding all the valuables. When a woman withheld her physical body for the marriage bed, a man had reason to invest emotional commitment to his love. There was a mutual desire that was managed through discipline and respect that was consummated in a safe and wholesome manner. Now, when a woman gives her body to man that is not committed to her, when he leaves, she is left to deal with the emotional and physical repercussions. When before, the man was committed to his wife through the marriage bond and she could safely invest into him.

When a woman agrees to live with a man that will not marry her, she is being abused by him. I can find no plainer language. The man is abusive of her. It is wrong to sexually invest into someone that you are not committed to for life.