It Starts with a Small Thing
The previous post was a song that I heard again in a restaurant at lunch break yesterday. It had touched my heart on earlier occasions.
This one-time lawyer had certainly seen a bellyful of marriage break-ups. As the client would relate the history, it became apparent that there had been some very small beginnings. Some silly expenditure without consultation. Some household chore never shared. Some flirtation at a party. Some puckish experiment with drugs. Some undermining of needful discipline with a child.
Then came the accusations, the raised voices, the counter-thrusts, the intentional shaming before others, the person at work who seemed so much more understanding, the adultery, the eartquake of disappointment, the refusal to forgive.
Did you hear that? I said the "refusal to forgive". But this just isn't fair. I shouldn't have to go through this. I deserve better. I have already met her half-way!
I have observed this with clients and with neighbours. The insidious crescendo of unforgiveness.
I do remember one signal time in my office with a farmer who was obviously heart-broken, but starting to dig in his heels. I asked him to recall pleasant earlier times in the romance. I acknowledged that he had by then done his fair share. But was he prepared now to do the really stupid thing for love? Would he go shockingly beyond half-way in the dwindling days with his wife?
He ultimately agreed. The woman was stunned by his unquenchable grace. (Romans 12: 20, 21). The marriage rekindled.
The word got round the legal community, "That Blair has taken up marriage counselling at the risk of his business! His new religious kick is gonna cost him."
Perhaps another hurting spouse will read this and flex just a little more hope and forgiveness, doing 'something really stupid' for love.