Never Tell me I’m not the Romantic Type

Time for the latest news about my online matchmaking saga.

As always, I assume people will be waiting to hear that the rose-colored glasses have come off, I have realized Ms. Zambia was only after my money and a trip to America, and I have given her her walking papers.

Get ready to be disappointed. God is very good.

We now have a pattern. Every day, when my prayers start, I text her. She’s already up when I wake because of the time difference. I think it’s July in Zambia. There is nothing like having a strong Christian woman to pray with. A person who has no prayer partner is like a walled city with gaps in the walls. I have needed this for a very long time.

We don’t just pray. We talk about supernatural events. Monday, and Tuesday, I saw things while I was praying. I don’t mean I saw them as though they were real. They popped into my mind. Sometimes things like that come from God. Because I had her, I was able to describe them to her and see if God told her anything about them. We also prayed God would tell me about a vision he gave her last month.

Yesterday, after prayer, I started speaking in tongues and interpreting, and I ran the results by her as I went. We went about two hours.

She came back very quickly with scriptures supporting the words that came to me. Sometimes, they were the same scriptures I had thought of. Other times, she turned my attention to scriptures that hadn’t come to mind. I could not be more impressed.

Most Christians don’t know or understand much. They think Christianity means going to church so God won’t send you to hell, or being nice so God won’t send you to hell, or being forgiven once a week so you can start sinning again as soon as you hit the parking lot. They’re not really Christians. They worship niceness. Actual Christians who go online looking for love hate it when someone’s description says, “Spiritual, but not religious.” It’s a proclamation of willful ignorance.

I want someone who isn’t ignorant. They are exceptions. I see why Proverbs says the price of a virtuous woman is far above rubies. Even if it’s measured in Zambian sirloin.

She likes the way the Bible characterizes a wife as a helper. She says “helper” doesn’t mean “helpless.” That’s exactly right. If a woman isn’t powerful, she can’t be a helper. You have to be strong in order to help anyone.

America is full of women who like calling themselves strong in spite of their total lack of supernatural strength. The weakest women call themselves strong.

Being obnoxious and pushy and having a chip on your shoulder for men are not strength. It poisons the woman and rots the life of any man she latches onto.

I ransacked the first floor of my house yesterday, looking for my passport. No luck. Today while we talked, I asked her to pray about it. Then she had to attend a Zoom class. I asked God to help me find the passport. I walked over to a table with a lot of papers on it, moved a couple of things, picked up an envelope, reached inside it, and took the passport out.

If you don’t have your expired passport, it takes forever to get a new one. They assume you sold your old one to terrorists or to Mexican criminals who haven’t learned Biden will let anyone cross the border. Because I have the old one, I can make a plane reservation today and leave in about two weeks.

The plan is to meet in a third country to see how the relationship holds up.

As for marriage itself, there is a very serious possibility I will end up buying her for several cows. I discussed this here already. She doesn’t want me to do it, but she has concerns about making a stink in Zambia, and she doesn’t want problems with unforgiveness toward her dad’s family.

I have learned a lot about Zambia. Over there, when women want to put each other down, they brag about how submissive they are. They compete to see who is the best wife.

I am not making this up.

When a woman becomes engaged, someone pays a female trainer to consult with her and teach her how to be good in bed.

I don’t know why no one has made a movie about this. The comedy potential is endless.

I love how this is working out. I can’t wait for the day when leftists finally put me on trial for all my imaginary crimes. My list of confessions will be amazing.

1. “I bought my YOUNGER FOREIGN BLACK wife, who is very beautiful, with several cattle, and I framed the receipt.”

2. “I routinely call her ‘my little post-colonial cocoa bean,'” and she actually likes it.

3. “When she texts, she calls me her king.”

4. “She sent me a monkey emoji, and I told her it was my favorite picture of her.”

Heads will detonate like grenades.

My buddy Mike has a son who married a black girl who has gone way off into the BLM bush. I keep begging Mike to tell him what’s happening. I want him to film it so I can watch.

I am trying to find out what Zambian cattle weigh. It looks like American calves run about 600 pounds when they sell. Assuming the same thing is true in Africa, the latest price for a pound of Zambian cow on the hoof puts the cost at $360. That means one wife should come in at around $3600, which seems pretty high to me. I got a really nice used tool grinder for less than half of that.

It occurs to me that my remarks could result in American men stampeding to woo Zambian girls for all the wrong reasons. It sounds like marrying a Zambian is a pretty sweet deal.

If you’re a single American woman, perhaps it will be helpful to see what the competition is up to.

I just sent the following email:

It looks like cattle here in the US run about 600 pounds (272 KG) at sale, and the Zambian price is about $.60 per pound, so I am thinking a cow must run about $360. This would put you in the $3600 range, making you expensive yet considerably cheaper than a nice riding lawnmower.

Getting my passport renewed can take as little as two weeks, but in order to do it that fast, I have to have airline tickets. I am looking into Israel package deals. You might want to check on the cost of flights to the US, as well as the time required to get a visa, but Israel sounds very good to me.

She responded: “Glad to know I’m cheaper than your lawnmower.”

My reply: “Yes. Let’s not be extravagant.”

That’s all I have for now. I have to coordinate with my tiny subequatorial turnip. Prayers for guidance appreciated.