Standards 3:03

Bright and early on Saturday morning, Winslow stood in front of her bathroom mirror, brushing her hair. Even on days like this when she had no plans to leave the house, she felt better when she got ready for the day normally.

Ring, ring, ring! Her laptop chimed from her bedroom, indicating an incoming video call. Winslow sat her brush on the counter and trotted back into her room, scooping her laptop up and sitting on her bed. She tucked one leg under her body and left the other dangling over the edge as she pressed the button to answer the call.

“Happy Saturday! How are things?” Cherry said immediately, offering a cheerful grin.

Winslow chuckled. “It's been quite the week.”

A scowl of concern grew over her cousin's face. “How so?”

Winslow thought back. Where to start…? “Well, I got into this fight with Reid,” she tried. “Let me ask you and see if this is normal…”

“Go for it,” Cherry sipped a drink from a straw with glass cherries on it. Winslow had given her the straws when she got back from her mission as a gift to cheer her up.

“So, I sit next to this guy named Kiernan in class, and we share a textbook,” Winslow started.

Pulling the straw from her lips, Cherry clarified, “Did you choose to sit together or are seats assigned?”

“Well, we chose our seats originally, but Kiernan transferred into the class late. Since the seat next to me was empty, the teacher stuck him there so we could share my book.”

“Got it.”

“So, Kiernan was absent on Friday.” Winslow told her cousin the story of exchanging phone numbers and upsetting Reid, but left out the details where she'd missed her bus and gotten a ride home from Kiernan. Something about it felt precious and she didn't want to share all the details. Plus, it wasn't relevant to the situation with Reid. As far as Winslow knew, he didn't even see her get in Kiernan's car. Of course, he'd probably have gotten upset about it if he did, so Winslow would have heard.

“Reid just didn't let it go until I finally apologized to him for overreacting, and—”

“Woah, wait, what?” Cherry interjected, putting a pause on Winslow's rant.

“What?”

“You apologized to him for overreacting? You didn't do anything wrong.” Cherry's eyebrows pressed together as she stared at Winslow through the screen.

“Well, he kept saying that he was a terrible person, and that he doesn't know how I can even stand him, and—”

“Win, he's manipulating you.”

“What? No, he's not.” Winslow actually laughed at the idea.

“Oh please,” Cherry groaned. “There is a huge freaking difference between ‘I screwed up and I'm sorry’ and ‘I'm horrible and you should hate me.’ He knows that if he beats himself up, then you'll feel guilty and say you messed up— even though you didn't— so he can get away with whatever he wants.” Her voice was stern, and Winslow could tell she was serious.

“Really?” She began to reevaluate, thinking back on the countless times this sort of thing had happened. In hindsight, it made sense.

Her cousin leaned back in her chair, offering her hands in a show of surrender. “I mean, you know the situation better than I do, but this guy sounds like bad news.” She shook her head, then offered a sly smile. “Maybe you should go for that new guy.”

“Don't even start!” Winslow blushed, but Cherry only laughed.

“So, what else went down this week?” She asked. “More crap from this crap guy?”

“Well, no, but at Mutual…”

Winslow related the evening's events, knowing Cherry would understand how she felt. Her cousin was always adamant that the rule barring dating before sixteen was stupid and often caused more problems than it solved— this overwhelming anxiety being one of those issues.

As expected, the story horrified Cherry, even though Winslow had toned it down a little in order to keep her emotions in check. Cherry tried to convince her that she'd done nothing wrong and didn't need to feel so ashamed, but Winslow had a hard time believing it. The only thing that even remotely helped was when Cherry said that dating should be about her comfort, not someone else's. “A person should start dating when they feel ready, not when a stranger deems them old enough. The same should go for group versus solo dates, steady dating, and a whole assortment of other things that church leaders have opinions about,” she said. “All that should matter is that people are comfortable.”

Hearing this, Winslow did start to feel a little bit better, but at the same time, she felt even more conflicted. Was she in the wrong for feeling comfortable with things that the Lord’s servants said she should avoid? These leaders receive spiritual guidance from God himself, so surely they know what's best, right? No matter which way she looked at it, Winslow could feel a knot in her stomach. Was that feeling the Holy Spirit trying to tell her she was going astray, or to demonstrate that there was something off about the guidelines? Could it have been because she didn't actually feel comfortable or ready to be dating, therefore proving the leaders right? Maybe, though, it was Satan trying to sow doubt into her mind. How was she supposed to know?

Winslow didn't have time to sort through these feelings with her cousin, because Cherry had to leave for her study group.

Long after the call disconnected, Winslow still lay in her bed, staring at her ceiling with watery eyes. The more she thought about it, the more she realized she couldn't picture a happy future with Reid. What was even the point of dating him, especially if it made her feel like this? She wondered if she would be this anxious about the rule if she were seeing somebody else. Would she still feel like she were doing something awful if she were dating someone she felt proud to be with?

All of Winslow's doubts and worries swarmed her mind as she tried to make sense of them. Too many questions arose, none of them easy to answer. The longer she considered it all, the more it overwhelmed her. Soon, she noticed a tear leaking down her cheek. She touched it instinctively, looking at her dampened fingers and wondering how long she'd been crying. It was all becoming too much.

Her lip quivering, Winslow rolled over in her bed, carefully sliding over the edge and kneeling on the floor. She folded her arms and took a deep, shaky breath, wondering where to even begin asking God for His guidance. She hoped it was true that God could hear even her silent pleadings, because she knew she couldn't put all these feelings into words as she whispered a long, desperate prayer from her bedroom floor