I fully believe that single Christian women and girls should put together a list when considering what to look for in a future husband. But what exactly should be on that list? Girls, as you are making that list and checking it twice, consider the message from this poem styled after the work of one of my favorite children’s authors.


by Marty Pena

The movie had finished.
There were no games to play.
So we sat on the plane
On that dull, endless day.

I sat there with Sarah.
We sat there, we two.
And I said, “How I wish
We had something to do!”

Too cramped to be sleeping.
No books to be read.
So we hashed out the reasons
My girl had not wed.

“There’s no one to date.
Not a guy to be had.
Every fella I know
Is just bad, bad, bad bad!” *

“Come, come my dear girl
There’s some miscalculation.
There must be just one
In all of this nation!”

She just shook her head
And said there were none.
But I couldn’t believe
That there just wasn’t one.

Then I asked what she wanted.
I questioned and queried.
Saying, “What will it take
For you to get married?”

With a raise of a brow,
An “I’m glad you asked” look,
She pulled from above
A thick leather book.

She examined its pages
Though she knew them by heart.
Then placed in my hands
Her beloved work of art.

“When I was quite little,”
She confidingly said,
“I started this list
‘Bout the man I will wed”

“And over the years
It’s grown long and extensive.
I’ve put in much thought
And have often been pensive.”

So I looked and I looked
And examined her list,
Astonished to find
Not a detail she’d missed.

“It’s hopeless! Preposterous!
There’s simply no way,
To find such a man
Though you pray, pray, pray pray!”

Then I started to rant
at her misunderstanding,
And show her which items
were far too demanding —

His eyes must be blue.
His nose must be small.
And of utmost importance
He has to be tall.

His hair and his teeth
I insist must be straight
And one eighty-two
Will of course be his weight.

He must run like an athlete
Be good with a ball.
And of course it’s essential
He has to be tall.

He must sing like Josh Grobin
And dance like Astaire.
And a tie and a suit
Are the clothes he must wear.

He will think like an Einstein,
Know Scripture like Paul.
And of course don’t forget
He has to be tall.

He’ll love country music.
And he’ll drive a corvette.
Adore little children
Have a dog for a pet.

He will hail from the West;
His deep voice will enthrall;
He’ll sing in the choir;
And of course, he’ll be tall.

His church will be Baptist,
He’ll never wear pink.
He’ll eat chicken and pizza
And love Monster’s Inc.

In fact – He’ll love all my movies!
Share my tastes, big and small.
And I know absolutely
He has to be tall–

So I heaved a great sigh
Saying she’d never find,
A man with such traits
Though she searched all mankind.

And then she conceded
That she’d learned the same thing.
To her childish illusions
No more did she cling.

Then she pulled out a paper
Quite wrinkled and worn.
It’s writing was faded
Its edges were torn.

“Now that I’m grown,”
She said with conviction,
“I’ve discerned it is folly
To cast such restriction.”

“So I’ve narrowed it down
To the things I most treasure,
And now it’s these standards
I use for a measure.”

“He must love the Lord God
With his heart, mind, and soul,
And obeying God’s laws
Must be ever his goal.”

“And then he must care for
Both neighbor and foe.
As servant to all
Christ’s love he’ll bestow.”

“And last he must love me
As Christ loved His bride,
With selfless devotion
And denial of pride.”

Then shyly she covered
The last line she had penned,
And so I assured her
Her mom was her friend.

So she showed me the line
In letters quite small.
Her last of requirements…

He still must be tall.

*Note: None of the young men of my daughter’s acquaintance are really “bad, bad, bad, bad.” For the most part they are, “nice, nice, nice, nice.” I just had to find a word that rhymed. 🙂