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"So, how'd it go?" My friend Susan is all eagerness and anticipation as she asks about my recent second date.

"Well …" I begin, with a disappointed tone, "It wasn't the best date I ever had. I heard all about what's wrong with his pastor, boss, and estranged sister. And I could have sworn he started flirting with the waiter. It seemed to confirm everything I felt after date one."

Susan's eagerness doesn't dim. Not a kilowatt. "So, what does he do for a living? Is he cute?"

I stare at her for a moment, wanting to speak slowly, "What part of 'he started flirting with the waiter' didn't you understand?" Instead I respond, "He's an accountant. And cute … um, I guess I'd call him okay-looking. I dunno, we just don't seem like a good fit. He's really outdoorsy, and you know what an indoor person I am. He doesn't read, ever—and words and books are so important to me."

"Well, you know opposites attract," Susan chirps. "And chemistry takes time. So when are you going out again?"

This time I do stare at her for a moment, hoping some extra time to process all I've just said will bring her to her senses. "I guess I hadn't really planned on it," I answer. "I'm not really interested in him. I started checking my watch an hour into our date. I wouldn't even say I had fun."

"Oh, pish-posh. Go out with him again. You'll see. Give the guy a chance. Give the relationship time to develop." Then, thankfully, she changes the subject.

But as we talk about her recent job promotion, the great novel I've just read, and the latest celebrity scandal, there's a whole other commentary going on in the back of my mind. I can't help but think that ten years ago—in my twenties—simply telling this friend I wasn't really interested in the guy would have ended the matter. Enough said. Case closed.

But now, in my thirties, I seem to need to have a Really Good Reason to let a relationship opportunity pass me by. I can almost feel some friends and relatives thinking, You've finally got a live one here. We all know these opportunities don't come along every day, so are you really sure you want to walk away from this one? You're not getting any younger, you know.

Oh sure, I know there's wise counsel somewhere in there. Don't expect perfection—and all the related truisms. I know it helps defuse the temptation to expect someone so obviously and superhumanly Worth the Wait. I know getting to really know someone takes time and that dating well requires large doses of grace (from both parties involved).

And in all honesty, I do sometimes hear from the devil side of my shoulder (in that running devil-angel commentary we often hear), thoughts such as, Let's see, it's been a year since my last date. So if I walk away from this, it'll be at least another year or more before another option crosses my path. And I'll be X years old by then. Ack. So maybe he's not so bad. We could flirt with waiters together. I guess I could get used to that snorting noise he makes when he talks. We've all got idiosyncrasies, right?

When I'm completely serious, I admit that the longer I'm at this dating thing and the more potential relationships I take a pass on (of those that don't take a pass on me), the more that walking away from what feels like an ill-fitting relationship gives me pause. I can begin to question my dating decision-making skills. Have I really not met a good fit, or have I tossed a few great-for-me fish back into the sea? It would be so much easier to walk away from a date if there was some big, obvious reason it wouldn't work: he flirts with waiters, he hates women, he likes Borat.

But life—and people—are more complex than that. And I'm once again forced into the position of listening hard for God's leading. A vulnerable but great place to be, I'm learning. Though I'm not always so great at the listening, I know it's only with the Holy Spirit's help that I'll find that tricky balance between settling and holding superhuman standards, between being judgmental and being discriminating. Finding that right blend of dating with a guarded heart and an open mind.

Being willing to walk from a potential relationship at this stage is sometimes an exercise in faith—in my worth and my gut instincts, in doing the right thing even when it doesn't get me any closer to what I want, and in the God of the universe who somehow has all these details and desires in his care.

As for my friends, I know most only want me to be happy, knowing I desire to marry at some point in life. But sticking with Mr. He'll Do or Mr. We've Finally Got a Live One Here certainly won't fit that bill.

Because no matter how old I get as a still-single someday, I never want to be sitting at a coffee shop telling Susan, "I met an axe-murderer the other day." Cue her expectant, anticipatory gleam.

"So I married him."

"Oh, that's marvelous, dear. Congratulations!"

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