By: Jennifer Richardson Holt
I once heard a phrase that lodged itself firmly into my memory banks. It resurfaces every time I encounter a situation to which it applies—and it applies far more often than we’d like to admit.
The phrase came from a group of little girls reenacting a sermon their preacher father had given. In a high-pitched Southern voice, full of naïve bravado and aided by a chorus of equally tiny encouragement, one of them declared, “You can’t stop eatin’ just ’cause Mama once burned the biscuits.”
And she was right.
It’s the kind of sentiment people rarely apply unless they’re defending themselves—and usually with the quiet awareness that their reasoning isn’t entirely reasonable. It’s the logic of a single bad experience becoming the excuse to dismiss an entire idea. Sometimes it wasn’t even their experience—just one they observed—but that’s enough. One encounter, one failure, one disappointment, and suddenly everything related gets swept into one big negative pile.
I once knew a man whose father’s marriage failed catastrophically. Rather than learning from whatever mistakes led to that collapse, he decided marriage itself was the problem. He vowed never to marry.
And yet—he had a girlfriend. They lived together. For all intents and purposes, and by any common-sense definition, they were married in everything but name. Still, he insisted he would never get married because of what had happened to his father.
Ironically, he’s now married to that same woman. Whether he finally recognized the flaw in his reasoning or was simply presented with an ultimatum, who can say? But the logic never held. It’s like deciding never to eat eggs again because someone, somewhere, once cracked a rotten one. Even saying it aloud reveals how absurd it is.
And yet, people use this line of thinking constantly.
One of the most common places it shows up is in conversations about church. Someone has a bad experience at one church, or encounters hypocritical people in a congregation, and suddenly church as a whole is written off. It becomes, at best, a scam—or at worst, a den of vipers.
Let me be clear: I’m not dismissing anyone’s experience. Hurt is real. Disappointment is valid. Distrust may even be earned. But the presence of counterfeit does not negate the existence of the real. No one counterfeits three-dollar bills—because there isn’t a real one. Counterfeits exist precisely because something genuine exists alongside them.
Our responsibility is to look for the real.
The negative things we’ve seen may be true—but they are not all that is true. If we genuinely seek out what is good and authentic, we’ll find it, and in doing so we’ll learn that not all people—or institutions—are the same.
If you’re seeking a spouse and you’ve witnessed others fail in that pursuit, learn from it. Get to know yourself. Understand what you want, what you won’t tolerate, and what you’re willing to grow through. Seek out couples who have been married for decades and listen to the wisdom that has stood the test of time. Yes, it takes effort—but important things usually do.
And if you’ve been hurt by a church and that experience soured you on the whole idea, I can guarantee you two things. First, not all churches are the same—any more than every hamburger on a cross-country road trip tastes identical. Second, whatever happened there was the result of people, not God.
God does not disappoint. If you seek Him sincerely in a healthy, wholesome place, He will prove to be exactly what you’re looking for.
People, on the other hand? Well… we will disappoint you. We’re remarkably efficient at messing up even the best things. Most of us try—but perfection was never on the table. And that, really, is the heart of the matter. As long as humanity is involved, disappointment is inevitable.
Still, our task is not to fixate on the frauds and phonies. It is to look for what is good and genuine. Any excuse to do otherwise is simply silliness.
After all, we didn’t stop eating just because Mama once burned the biscuits.
Prose and Possibilities 