The Melancholy Princess

Guest Post by Clarence

Didn’t the Lord make you one with your wife? In body and spirit you are his. And what does he want? Godly children from your union. So guard your heart; remain loyal to the wife of your youth. “For I hate divorce!” says the Lord, the God of Israel. “To divorce your wife is to overwhelm her with cruelty,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies. “So guard your heart; do not be unfaithful to your wife.” (Malachi 2:15-17 NLT)

I did a quick search and discovered there are only 6 instances in which the Bible explicitly states that “God” or “the Lord” “hates” something. It’s a noteworthy event given how seldom the Bible states how God “hates” something.

Why is divorce such an object of derision, disdain and disregard in God’s view? Perhaps an experience I had on my return trip from Texas this past Easter weekend might shed some light on why God has such a strong opinion about divorce. I enjoyed a visit with friends over the Easter weekend in Texas.

My best friend and his wife flew me down from KC and had me stay with them for the weekend. I thoroughly enjoyed myself as I visited with old and new friends. I always look forward to such sweet fellowship. But as is the case with life in this world, nothing lasts, and I soon found myself making the trip back home to KC.

I flew Southwest Airlines, and if you’re familiar with Southwest, you sit anywhere you can find a seat. I scanned the first few rows and found an open middle seat in the second row between an older lady seated in an aisle seat and a little girl by the window. I initially thought the middle seat may have been for the little girl's parent, but I asked the old lady if anyone was sitting between them, to which she responded, “No”. I asked if I could sit between them and the old lady said “Yes” and got up to let me to slip by her. I thanked “Jan”, whose name I later learned, and after I settled down between them, I proceeded to catch some sleep, but was soon awakened by the sound of crying.

I turned to my right and noticed the little girl crying. She was trying to hide her tears, but couldn’t as she cried in the manner of children with that quick succession of gasps punctuated by sobs, accompanied by a torrent of tears. I asked her if she was ok. She shook her head no, as the tears continued to stream down her face. I turned to my left and Jan, perhaps seeing the perplexity and consternation on my face, explained that the girl’s parents had recently divorced; and after having visited her dad in Dallas was returning to her mother in Detroit. I turned my attention back to her and my heart went out to this melancholy cherub. I thought to myself, “How could a father let his 6 y.o. daughter fly alone under such circumstances?” I knew that if he could only see his broken-hearted, grief-stricken, sad little princess at that moment his own heart would break and he would doeverything (perhaps even called off divorce if he could see then what I saw now) in his power to comfort her and stop those tears.

I was convinced of this because that’s exactly how I felt. I felt helpless flustered, and frustrated in my desire to scoop her up in my arms and wipe away the tears, but could not, for obvious reasons. So, I did the next best thing and tried to bring a smile to her face. I obtained a gift bag from the flight attendant, which contained an activity book that had mazes, word scrambles, crossword puzzles, and connect-the-dots exercises. I offered it to her along with a little packet of tissues, which Jan volunteered. I introduced myself and found out her name was, “Alyssia” (She later made a point of explaining to me that she dotted the “i” with a heart) Slowly, her tears subsided as I inquired about her visit with her dad and all that she did while in Texas, which she happily recounted. Eventually, she turned her attention to the activity book and enlisted my help in completing some of the exercises. I actually found 8 or 9 (but who’s counting?) of the 12 words in the word scramble, and despite her reluctance to do the crossword I was instrumental in helping her finish it.

Eventually we landed in KC, where I was to disembark while she continued on to Detroit. I leaned over and said, “Do you want to know a secret?” She looked up at me and nodded, “yes”. “Jesus loves you.” I told her. She looked at me with those bright blue eyes, and innocently asked, “Who’s Jesus?” My heart sank as I realized that she had never been told about God or Jesus. I didn’t have time to explain in detail so I said that, “Jesus is God and He will find you so you can be with Him in Heaven one day.” “Are you going to be there?” she asked. “Yes, of course. I'll see you there in 80yrs or so - deal?” She agreed and we high-fived. As I exited the row, she jumped up and offered me a set of plastic wings she received in her gift bag. I thanked her, and as I walked through the airport, wings in hand, I prayed that God would protect her and keep her safe.

I don’t know the details of her parents' divorce, and I’m sure there’s two sides to every story, but it’s my experience that, more often than not, the husband, in his role as the spiritual head of his family can do much to repair and strengthen his marital relationship. It’s his role as a spiritual warrior to defend his family by #1, guarding his own heart, battling in prayer against the “powers” and “principalities”[1] intent on his family’s destruction, and nurturing his wife as a gardener tends to his garden, “…cleansing her by the washing with water through the word”[2]. It’s our failure as men to see our role as spiritual warriors in submission to God, who endows us with the authority to head our families, enabling us to nurture our sisters in Christ and protect the families we are blessed to have with them; a failure resulting in a 50% divorce rate in the best case, and husbands killing wives and loved ones, in the worst case. It’s the tragic result of a failure to recognize that we are not, nor is anything we have, truly our own, that “in body and spirit you are his”.

“Dear God, would You bless me and my brothers today, helping us recognize in greater measure our identity as sons of God, princes of the King of Kings, and to walk, therefore, this day, in victory over the devil, the world and our own flesh, becoming more and more the husbands, fathers, sons and brothers You want us to be. I ask this in Jesus’ Name. Amen. “

“You are a garden locked up, my sister, my bride; you are a spring enclosed, a sealed fountain.” (Song of Solomon, 4:12 NIV)

"Let my lover come into his garden and taste its choice fruits." (Song of Solomon, 4:16)

"Catch the foxes for us,The little foxes that are ruining the vineyards,While our vineyards are in blossom." (Song of Solomon, 2:15 NASB)

"For the Son of Man has come to seek and save that which was lost." (Luke 19:10 NKJV)

"I have come into my garden, my sister, my bride" (Song of Solomon, 5:1)

"Many a man claims to have unfailing love, but a faithful man who can find?" (Pr. 20:6)

"He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." (Rev. 21:4 NIV)

“Jesus loves me this I know for the Bible tells me so, little ones to Him belong, they are weak but He is strong.” (Anna B. Warner, 1820 -1915)

[1] Ephesians 6:12

[2] Ephesians 5:26

The Winter of [My] Discontent

Guest Post by Clarence:

For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul? (Mt.16:26 NKJV)

My father died at 54 of his first and only heart attack.  They found him dead on the plane during a layover in Hawaii returning from a trip to the Philippines.  He had just interviewed for a cabinet position for the incoming administration of Fidel Ramos.  He was at the prime of his life.  It was an abrupt ending to such a promising career and real American success story.  

If I could provide some background:  My father was born into a family of moderate means, as his parents were both teachers.  And if teaching isn’t a lucrative profession here in the U.S., it’s less so in the Philippines.  He was the 3rd child in a family of 10 kids.  He fought and struggled for everything he got.  Eventually, he became a lawyer in the Philippines in a climate of political instability.  He was involved in politics and wrote decrying the graft and corruption of the then-democratic government of Ferdinand Marcos.  He understood the political climate, the dictatorial tendencies of the Marcos regime, and foresaw the coming declaration of martial law.  To avoid political persecution, therefore, he joined the “brain drain” of intellectuals and professionals leaving the Philippines that occurred prior to Ferdinand Marcos’ eventual declaration of martial law and reign as a dictator through the 70s and 80s.  

He and my mom arrived in NYC, in this land of opportunity.  And finding himself in a new country, he worked hard to provide for a young family, selling life insurance.  I still remember him occasionally (when baby sitters were unavailable) taking me, my sister, and brother who was still in diapers along with him to appointments.  I recall him taking us to these tenement buildings and knocking on apartment doors.  When the occupants asked, “Who is it?” he cried out, “Insurance man!” and they would let us in.  I think it helped him close some deals by toting us around.  

While providing for us selling insurance, he was also self-studying for the bar exam that would allow him to practice law in the U.S.  I still recall him seated at the kitchen table, reading law books late at night, writing notes and typing papers.  His hard work finally paid off when while I was in 3^rd grade he passed the bar exam and was able to practice law in the U.S. and eventually serve as a judge.  It’s a true American success story and an example of how hard work, determination and perseverance can result in achieving one’s goals and dreams.  

With that background, it’s easier to understand my father’s drive and desire for us to succeed.  He envisioned that I would one day follow in his footsteps, become a lawyer, and join him in his practice.  Being the eldest, however, much was expected of me, and when I failed to meet those expectations, bore the brunt of his disappointment at the end of a belt.  The corporal punishment, however, wasn’t the kind delivered by a loving parent, concerned with “…train[ing] a child in the way he should go”[1], offering reassuring words of his continued love and attempts to comfort at the end; but delivered, rather, with a meanness, vindictiveness and malice reserved for one’s enemy (evidenced by the bruises both physical and emotional).  

I have to admit that his bark was worse than his bite, as even the mere raising of his voice would unnerve, disturb and perplex me, especially when he grew impatient with me.  As a result, I feared my father and his outbursts, and distanced myself from him as I adopted passive/aggressive behaviors[2] (e.g. procrastination, depression, avoidance, etc.), as a defense mechanism to cope with the stress of my early childhood - a fault and weakness against which I guard as an adult.  

Compounding this paternal dysfunction was the fact of his absenteeism due not so much to career as to his infidelity towards our mother.  My father had another wife while still married to our mother – a secret he kept well-hidden from us.  After his death, I came to know my half-brothers and sisters (all 6 of them) and learned of the warm, loving and fond memories they had of him.  I was actually jealous of the affection my half-siblings received from my father.  I envied them their warm memories of my father and close relationship they enjoyed with him. Maybe he distanced himself from us, because he loved his other wife more, I don’t know, but I felt gypped, deprived, and cheated of having a dad.  Please understand, I love my father, but I hated what he did to us.  I trust he’s in heaven (based on reports of his accepting Christ later in life), but we still had to live with the effects of “…the sins of the fathers.”[3] I can’t speak for my siblings as, “…each heart knows its own bitterness…”[4], (perhaps matters of the heart, feelings and emotions is the proper province of relativism) but this paternal dysfunction was instrumental in my early development and produced in me a “quiet defiance” towards my father and authority.  It was also during this period in my life (jr. high – H.S.) that I began to seriously doubt the existence of God, and even contemplate suicide. 

"All happy families resemble one another, but each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy (1875-77)

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon, Little boy blue and the man in the moon
When you comin' home dad? I don't know when, but we'll get together then son
You know we'll have a good time then (“Cats in the Cradle”, Harry Chapin)

“Hate the sin, love the sinner” (Mahatma Gandhi)

"The unexamined life is not worth living." (“Apology”, Socrates) 

Many a man claims to have unfailing love, but a faithful man who can find? (Pr. 20:6)

No one else can know your sadness, and strangers cannot share your joy (Pr.14:10 NCV)

“Fathers, do not irritate and provoke your children to anger [do not exasperate them to resentment], but rear them [tenderly] in the training and discipline and the counsel and admonition of the Lord.” (Ephesians 6:4, Amplified)

"And whoever welcomes a little child like this in my name welcomes me. But if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a large millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.” (Mt.18:5-6)

*Richard III, Shakespeare

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[1] Proverbs 22:6

[2] http://www.livestrong.com/article/14713-eliminating-passive-aggressiveness/

[3] Psalm 79:8

[4] Pr. 14:10