Love, Hawaiian Style

I posted a few weeks ago about a recent episode of Hawaii Five-O that featured Danny, a.k.a. Danno, learning that his parents are about to divorce and then talking about his own divorce with his young daughter.

The story line continued this week with Danny and daughter conspiring to get his parents to reconcile. What child of divorce hasn't fantasized that story line?  (Blame it on The Parent Trap if you want.)

As a total side note, not that I can picture Melanie Griffiths playing James Caan's wife, but wouldn't it have been kind of fun if they'd been able to get Danno's real life dad to play his on-screen dad? Just a thought.

Forgiving the was-band

Kristin Armstrong, ex-wife of cycler Lance Armstrong, speaks about parenting children of divorce in the midst of crisis, something the Armstrong family knows a little about.

Border-crossing divorce

An essay in the Travel section of the New York Times talks about the journeys that children of divorce make, physically and emotionally:

The holidays are synonymous with travel for many people. For me, a child of divorce, add international relations to the Christmas-New Year’s maelstrom. When my parents split in the 1970s, my father moved to Montreal with Susan, the woman who would become his wife and my stepmother. Since I was 6, I’ve gone across the border and back at least 100 times.

I know how it must feel to be a global peace negotiator: needing to be in two places at once, my allegiances split.

Sitting on the front porch together

I just finished reading the best-selling memoir by Denise Jackson, wife of country music star Alan Jackson, It's All About Him. This book has flown off shelves, and woven through every chapter of this story is the thread of Scripture and God's love. I couldn't help but think about all the people who bought this book for the celebrity story and instead found a story about someone much more famous.

The Jacksons were teenage sweethearts and married young. After eighteen years of marriage, however, Alan had an affair and moved out. During their separation, Denise sought God and learned how to become her own person outside the shadow of her famous husband.

After several months apart, Alan asked Denise on a date. At dinner, he asked his wife how their three girls were handling the separation. Denise angrily responded:

"Their whole world has been torn apart, and you ask how they're doing? Why don't you ask them how it feels to suddenly have your daddy move out, and see what they say? Why don't you tell them all the things that are wrong with me so maybe they'll understand that your leaving us was not my idea? Why don't you tell them why I've been crying for the last three months?"

After that rocky start, the Jacksons eventually reconciled and Alan moved back home. Denise writes:

Tears welled up in my eyes as he told the children that he was here to stay.

"Girls, I want you to know something," he said. "Fifty years from now, when you are grown and have families of your own, your mama and I will still be together. You don't need to worry. We'll be right here, sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch together."

Included in the book (at least in the copy I got from my local library) is a CD with two songs by Alan Jackson. The first shares its title with the book, It's All About Him, and the second is a song that he sang to his wife on their wedding day and again nearly twenty years later when they renewed their vows.

In the shadow of the cross

From Christianity Today:

In many cases, divorce is indefensible, bringing serious consequences to adults and children. It should not be taken lightly. Yet to deny someone full forgiveness and the right to live life to the fullest in Jesus Christ denies the healing power of the Cross. God brings light out of darkness. His redemptive work in the lives of imperfect people restores the hearts of men and women and turns them back toward him. His grace forgives and transforms.

This tension is at the heart of the gospel: Sinners really can receive forgiveness and acceptance, despite their pasts. When it comes to most other sins, the church has long realized that it can be pro-hospital without being pro-illness. We just haven't given ourselves permission to do so with remarriage. Remarriage ministry does not diminish God's intent for the home any more than a ministry to alcoholics encourages drinking.

How churches handle remarried couples matters not just to the husband and wife, but also to any children involved. I'm glad for the perspective this article brings to the issue -- acknowledging the sin that accompanies a broken marriage, and recognizing that, like other sins, this one can be forgiven.

Modeling forgiveness

Now, here's a mom who gets it. (Courtesy of Jen Abbas, whose aunt this mom happens to be.)

If you can't grow up and put aside differences for one day then how will you ever teach your kids forgiveness?

Leith Anderson on forgiveness and sin

The newly-appointed NAE interim president was on CNN talking about Ted Haggard's recent downfall. I thought his remarks on sin and forgiveness were pretty relevant to the discussions we've been having here.

Forgiving: A How-To Guide

John Howard asked for some practical steps to forgiveness. It's a great question. I'm going to try to tackle it here. I'd love to hear your feedback and your suggestions.

1. If you are a child of God, the first step is to realize that you must (not should or ought) forgive. A little conviction of sin--yes, I said sin--is in order here. I know; it's what drove me to forgive. Take some time to meditate on the following Bible passages. (Exodus 20:12; Ephesians 6:1-3; Matthew 5:7; Matthew 5:22-24; Matthew 18:21-35) Then pray. Confess to God that you are harboring unforgiveness and that you really don't feel like forgiving. Ask Him to give you the grace to do so anyway, in spite of your feelings. If it helps, ask a friend to pray with you and hold you accountable for your obedience.

2. Reach out. OK, you don't feel like it; but do it anyway. Forgiveness is a choice, not a feeling. Pick up the phone, write a note, send flowers, drive over and visit. Just do it. It's going to feel awkward and weird, but it will break the ice. Repeat as necessary. It will get better, I promise.

3. Accept your parent for who they are. I don't mean sweep everything under the rug, but I learned this extremely helpful tip from Dr. Kevin Leman. He pointed out that daughters have a tendency to hold their fathers accountable to the daughter's ideal of a father--what he should be. Trouble is, he isn't that guy, and he's never going to be. She's always going to be frustrated and disappointed until she stops holding him accountable for the ideal and starts figuring out who he really is and learning to love that guy. Oo, this is a hard one. It's hard to let go of our expectations and our right to be disappointed. But just try it. Try being thankful for the good things your parent offers. It may not be much, but be thankful for what you've got.

4. Confront sin biblically. The advice here has to differ based on whether your parent is a believer or not. If you have an unbelieving parent, well, what more do you expect than a pile of icky sin? What's so surprising about that? Approach them lovingly, but recognize that without the same God-ward focus that you have, they may not even see their sin as morally wrong. Pray for them, share the Gospel with them, and love them with all you've got. It's the Holy Spirit's job to convict them of sin. Now, if you have a believing parent who is actively engaged in a sinful lifestyle (maybe indulging in an adulterous affair, or living with a new partner outside of marriage), you should follow the biblical protocol laid out in Matthew 18:15-17. Your goal is not to punish, remember, but to restore. And Jesus says that if the person professing to be a believer does not respond to discipline, you are to "treat him as you would a pagan or a tax collector." What does that mean? 1 Corinthians 5 is helpful here, because Paul makes it very clear that Christians and non-Christians should be held to different standards. But before you get too harsh with the expelling stuff, remember what Paul says in 2 Corinthians 2:5-11.

5. Recognize that forgiving doesn't mean everything will be just the same as it used to be. When a relationship is broken, scars are left. I think when people want us to "sweep it under the rug" or "get over it," they want to pretend that nothing bad has happened. They want everything to be the way it once was, before the hurt occurred. That isn't going to happen. It just isn't. So face that and figure out how it can be now. You've got to forge a new relationship, one that grows from the ashes of the old broken one. If trust has been broken, you might be wise to wait for the other person to earn your trust again. You don't need to be naive to forgive.

Forgiving the wrongs

Recently, john howard commented on a post here with just a teensy bit of cynicism. The article in the post was admittedly cutting against the grain of what most folk would recommend--which is one of the reasons I included it. I thought it was provocative and would make readers think.

But john's comment leads to another topic altogether. Forgiveness.

Divorce--whether you're the dumpee, the dumper, or the helpless kid caught in the crossfire--is bound to create hard feelings, to put it mildly. One of the reasons I've chosen not to participate in some of the discussion boards that are run by divorcees (male or female) is that they tend to be vituperative and, honestly, the last thing this child of divorce needs is someone spouting off about what a jerk their former spouse was. Spare me.

(And this from a kid whose parents refrained from that kind of verbal warring; I can only imagine how those of you who heard your parents badmouth each other all the time must feel!)

You're bitter and angry. We, the kids, get it. But at some point you have to let it go, because if you don't, that bitterness will eat you alive and consume everything and everyone around you in the process.

And, no, it isn't easy. I've been there. I remember vividly standing in my mom's kitchen one day, drying dishes, and fighting tears as I admitted to her that I needed to forgive my dad because to not do so would be a slap in God's face but that I just wasn't able to do so yet. Forgiveness came in time.

So what about that "slap in God's face" stuff? Did I just make that up for dramatic effect? No, it's straight out of Colossians 3:13--"Bear with each other and forgive whatever greivances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you."

How did the Lord forgive you? Here's what I have written next to those words in my Bible: "Wholly and completely, without my asking or deserving." I don't merit God's forgiveness, but I have it. I had it before I even asked for it (Romans 5:8). I have it forever, and it covers every wrong I've already done and every wrong I will ever do--and there will be plenty of them (Romans 7:24). How can I accept the salvation of the Lord, His bountiful grace and extravagant love, and then turn around and not forgive my dad of one little thing--even a little thing like not speaking to me for eight years? To not forgive would make me a wicked servant with a debt I could not possibly pay (Matthew 18:21-35).

Forgiving like this requires the same supernatural power that God used when He forgave you and me. If you're His child, He promises to give you this power (Philippians 2:13). And He demands that you use it (1 John 4:19-21).

An unusual Father's Day tribute

From an article by blogger Jimmy Moore:

"I told Christine when I married her over ten years ago that we're cutting the word divorce out of the dictionary because it's not an option. She might have to kill me, but we're not getting a divorce no matter what. :)"

Jimmy shares a heartbreaking and encouraging story about the crazy upbringing and abuse he endured, his desire to break the cycle of abuse with God's grace, and his reconciliation with his father. Great article; go read it!

(Read more of Jimmy's blog here.)

The healing process

I injured my jaw in December. No, it wasn’t a rough hockey game or a tragic skiing accident. It was a vicious bowl of tortilla chips.

One of my weird family inheritances is loose joints. It can come in pretty handy as a party trick and, despite some bad dislocations through the years, I’ve never broken a bone—the joint gives way before the bone. It seems to afflict different joints at different times and for the last several years, the right side of my jaw has been the problem area. It had gotten so bad last fall, my jaw would literally just fall out of joint while I was sleeping and it would pop out when I ate crusty bread or kettle-cooked chips (yum!) or, yes, tortilla chips. I was waiting for a friend at a Mexican restaurant and, though I knew I shouldn’t, I couldn’t help but chow down on the chips. Sure enough, out it came. But this time it wouldn’t pop back in!

OK, this had never happened before! After two weeks of pain and a jaw that would barely move, I went to the doctor, got x-rays, and talked to an oral surgeon. The bone was back in joint, but the joint was damaged. It would heal on its own with time, but it was also likely to be reinjured frequently while it was healing since it’s a joint that gets used all the time. The best way to let it heal fast was to go on a soft food diet, which—yeah—was not happening, so I chose the slower healing process.

So six months later, I realized last week that I could yawn—really yawn big—without pain. What a feeling!

In the shower next morning, I yawned. No biggie, right? Wrong! I felt everything in my right jaw joint grind together and I grabbed my jaw in pain. I saw the previous six months flash before the eyes of my stomach—no more hamburgers, no more kettle chips, no more loaded corned beef and coleslaw sandwiches from J.P.’s.

But as the day wore on, I realized that while my jaw was a little sore, the new injury was not as bad as I had feared. The healing process was far enough along that what could have been a major setback was instead a minor inconvenience.

And then I thought about the other hurts we carry around. Those places in our hearts where we are flexible and feel good until one day, out of nowhere, wham! It hurts, sometimes excruciatingly; sometimes it’s crippling. We have to learn how to open up again, and gradually we begin to feel joy again where they had been only pain. But there can still be setbacks, new hurts that wound us in the same place. When that happens, there is a temptation to let the fear of the old hurt magnify the new hurt and to become paralyzed in that fear. But sometimes, there is a surprise. The new hurt that we so fear turns out to not be so bad. We have grown and healed and that place that used to be so raw and tender has toughened up and can withstand this new stress.

This is part of God’s design—for our bodies and our hearts.

The little foxes can ruin the vineyard

Gary Thomas on marriage:

"'It's the petty spiritual choices that we make that poisons what was once a very precious relationship and turns it into one that is marked by misery and frustration. We have lost the character to make a lifelong decision that requires sacrifice, generosity, service and the concept of putting the needs of a couple ahead of ourselves as an individual.'
"'They are ashamed they have acted in a petty, selfish manner rather than seeing marriage as a way to face up to what can help them grow. It's easier to run away and start over with someone else than it is to ask for forgiveness and courageously face it. '"