It's the New Year, and the air is fraught with opportunity. 'Tis the season to change one's habits and to try new things. Many make ambitious resolutions to eat less, exercise more, or read the Bible in a year. Some venture into a new world altogether: the curious world of online dating.

Seeking love on the internet may seem strange to some, but it's increasingly common, and no less so in the Christian world. Consider the popular website Christian Connection, the winner of 'Daters' Favourite Site' and 'Best Niche Site 2015/16' from the UK dating awards. The platform claims to have brought love to thousands, so could it find love for you too? In a flurry of likely mislaid optimism and intrigue, I've signed up to the site. A few days in, and it certainly is an interesting world.

Who do you think you are? That is the perennial question as one begins the journey into internet romance. You must create a profile, summarise your life, and show the virtual world how attractive you are. It's a daunting prospect.

'What makes you unique?' the system asks, prompting me to ponder my utter insignificance in the scale of the cosmos. Bad start. 'What is your best virtue?' Pretty hard to answer that without sounding arrogant, especially if you're British.

The intensity steps up: I now need to tell potential partners how many children I would like, for which selectable answers range from 'Yes, lots!' which sounds just a tad too keen, to 'Let's talk about it', which is especially alarming given we haven't actually met yet. 

I'll need to provide a profile picture, so I try and take a selfie where I don't look like I'm dying inside. It isn't possible. Instead, I find an old picture of me with a Star Wars Christmas jumper on, which I am sure will attract many, many women.

Eventually the navel gazing must end, and with some kind of profile complete, you head out into the woods. I'm confronted with a sea of faces, suddenly overwhelmed with options. On Christian Connection, the simplest way to make contact is to send a 'wave', which is described innocently as "a nice way to say hello". It feels like the Christian version of swiping 'right' on Tinder though, so I'm nervous. A wave feels like a big deal. Isn't it basically marriage? 

I make the mistake of showing this library of love to my Mother. She is enthralled. I disappear for a moment, then my Mum cries from the other room: "I've found someone!" She eagerly reads me her profile. "She sounds perfect," she concludes. "Shall I send her a wave?"

I wrestle my iPad away from her. If direct messaging feels too intense, then there are 'boards' on which people can have group discussions. Someone has unfortunately started a board called "Banter Chatroom!!" which I know I must avoid at all costs. Earning this platform's award of 'Best Niche Site', another thread is titled "Culinary Delights at Reasonable Price in the North Off the Beaten Track".

My reflections so far are that this all feels a little odd and I'm not sure what to do. I wonder if this kind of marriage marketplace is a completely healthy way of approaching relationships. It feels a little unnatural, but technology has already transformed so much of what we do in life, perhaps this is simply the future.

I certainly can't deny the site's numerous success stories, and the friends I know who have found love through it. Despite my fears, it does seem like a good way to connect people in an increasingly busy world.

Eventually, I pluck up the courage to send someone a 'wave'. Wow. Could she be the one? I check back in the morning to find that the person's profile no longer exists. Tragically, it seems my wave has literally driven her away from the entire prospect of love online. Oh.

But it's still the new year, so here's looking up. I'm a few days in, and I have membership for three months. Who knows what will happen?