Be Careful What You Ask God For | #MyFridayStory №388
Making a deal with God is no small thing — especially when it involves the course of your life.
I was born to parents who loved each other more than any couple I’ve ever known or seen. That might sound like an exaggeration, but for all 60 years of their marriage, none of us four kids ever once heard them argue. Not a raised voice. Not a harsh word.
They washed each other’s feet in a ritual of humility and devotion. They read the Bible together, prayed together, and slow-danced in the kitchen while cooking. Their unity, grounded in faith, formed a bond that nothing could shake.
Looking back, having front-row seats to such a love story was an immense privilege. To me and my siblings, it wasn’t unusual. That kind of tenderness and care was our norm. It was the soil we grew up in. You’d think that kind of childhood sets you up for success.
But for me, it set me up for failure.
I grew up knowing God. Loving God. Talking to Him like a friend. I was raised in the ultra-conservative NG Kerk, where the apartheid-era leadership wielded huge influence over the “volk.” The image I had of faith of an angry man shouting from a raised pulpit, wearing a black toga and shaking damning fingers skyward.
Their favourite sermon topic? Adultery. According to them, even a sexual thought was a one-way ticket to hell. Virginity wasn’t just encouraged — it was the bare minimum for heaven’s gate to open. So, I committed to saving myself for marriage. It felt right. It felt righteous. And most of all, it felt like it was part of the deal I would strike with God.
I wanted the kind of marriage my parents had. It looked so easy, so natural, that I assumed it would just happen for me. So, I made a bargain with God:
“I’ll stay a virgin until marriage, and in return, you’ll give me the kind of love story I saw growing up.”
It wasn’t so much a prayer as it was a transaction — more of a bribe.
I thought I was doing the hard part by staying pure. Finding a suitable partner? That was God’s part of the deal. He had my back. After all, we had an agreement.
The first woman I ever slept with was my ex-wife. We weren’t married yet, but I convinced myself she was “the one.” God had sent her. I ignored the red flags. I brushed off the warnings of concerned friends and family. I even silenced the distant whisper of my gut. None of that mattered — I believed with all my heart this was God’s plan.
But the truth is…
God let me have what I wanted. It was never what He wanted for me.
The church had sold me a broken theology about sex and the body. Sex was taboo. Shameful. A topic reserved for judgment and hellfire. I was 21, still a virgin, and desperate for a sign. So, when a pretty girl paid me some attention, I took it as divine confirmation. But my real intentions? They were born of lust and loneliness, not love. I didn’t see her heart — I saw her appearance.
I bulldozed ahead.
I convinced myself.
I convinced her.
And when we finally slept together, I felt locked in.
Now we had to get married.
What followed was a romantic but heartbreaking tale. I pursued her overseas three times and eventually brought her back to South Africa. Looking back, I see how much of it resembled stalking rather than a love story. Ours was a loveless marriage from the start. On the surface, it looked fine but lacked any real substance.
We had two beautiful children — first a Son, then a Daughter — who remain living proof of the union we once shared.
But after 17 years, we divorced.
In the years leading up to it, I spiralled. I turned to drinking, to substances. It all culminated in a binge that ended with my older Brother and our minister taking me to rehab. That was 20 years ago.
I’ve been clean and sober ever since.
Still divorced.
Still learning.
After the divorce, I was fortunate to date some amazing women. And I am forever grateful to them for helping mend my broken view of sex, intimacy, and how we relate to our own bodies. Their kindness and presence were healing.
Even though I “got what I asked for,” it was far from what I needed.
What I truly longed for was to meet and fall in love with a kind, God-fearing woman — someone like my Mom. But I got sidetracked by temptation. I veered off course and hoped God would soften the landing.
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t slightly bumpy.
It was a crash.
So, here’s my warning:
Be careful when you try to make deals with God. You might just get what you asked for.
Thanks for reading. 🙏
If it resonated with you — if you’ve made a few “deals with God” yourself — I’d love to hear about it in the comments or messages.
Until next week,
Have a wonderful weekend, and remember — be generous! 😊
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