The Affair that Kills

Marriages are in trouble. Relationships are in trouble. And Killer Affairs are like the flu virus–everywhere, in the air, in a handshake.

But affairs usually aren’t what kills the relationship. Loneliness is the culprit. The aching of the human heart is so ready to absorb the human vibes of another. Loneliness hurts. The attention of another person switches off the pain. An affair is most often the result of two busy people having less time to switch off the loneliness of the heart.

An affair doesn’t solve much for long.

A marriage is usually broken long before the affair, and repairing the break takes specific actions from both partners. After an affair, the feelings of betrayal, shame, inadequacy, rejection, and grief blow two people from their moorings. However, most likely, those moorings were an illusion. Two people may have gone on for a long time without much intimacy or spark to cement the relationship to the emotional breakwater.

The movie “Fireproof” shows the husband’s affair with pornography. He shows his wife very little attention. Thus, affairs exist with jobs, hobbies, entertainment, sports, friends, or addictions. If a child dies, the overpowering grief becomes the third-party in the marriage, often causing a negative emotional affair with that powerful emotion. Again, more attention is given to the other than to the partner.

Though you have probably heard the words, “Affair Proof You Marriage,” there is no guarantee. We are all broken and sinful creatures governed by selfishness and our impulses. What we do need to do is wake up to the truth about our marriages. We need to admit we need help. Ask yourself these questions:

• Is it boring?
• Am I lonely?
• Do I wonder if he/she is more interested in someone else than me?
• Am I jealous of someone or something in his/her life?
• How many times in the past week did I show affection to him/her?

Did you answer “Yes” to any of these?

For all couples, not just those where loneliness is high, I highly recommend John Gottman’s book, “The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work.” His research verifying his approach is a bright star in the marriage repair business. My wife and I have personally benefited from reading this book together. Along with following the easy and fun exercises in Gottman’s book, I highly recommend finding a pastor or counselor trained to administer the “Prepare-Enrich Inventory.” These two tools will be a huge boost to putting the spark and intimacy back into your relationship before the affair virus replicates itself in your heart and soul.

Happy 50th!

To the one who keeps telling everyone it is her 50th,

I say, “Keep it a secret. It’ll be a bigger surprise

When no one sees 60 coming your way either!”

The students in Belarus couldn’t believe you were forty–

“Youthful,” they said.

The years are kind to you.

Only one injury nags you,

that darn

touch-your-toes-to-the-side

leap off a porch

when you landed on your tailbone.

I utterly spit on that moment in time.

It haunts you still.

Aside from that the years go softly.

Bravely, weathering, with the old man you married,

advancing against the foes and dangers like Joan of Arc,

singing lullabies in the morning still,

undaunted by the threats of the same old sister or the

three girls you love. Singing on, more than the first line,

the whole dang song to thousands of country western, rock, hymns, and now,

Mark Lowry’s, “Water, Water.”

So, fifty. Nothing beats making it to the mid-century mark,

and with brains and body intact, “Oh my!”.

Your life is weighed in the balance lightly, joyfully,

Spreading joy and hope missing in most at fifty.

Artsy, suprisingness, school girl restart, what more can you do?

Go on, I say. Go on! To one hundred.

Batten down the hatches. Damn the hot dogs.

Go forth with boldness. Your common sense, your Jesus sense,

that righteous, justice, God-ward-going-sense,

emboldened by life’s lessons, and zest,

and that “Je ne sais qua,” to push onward.

May I go with you, adventurous one?

Happy Birthday, to the one whose secret is no more!

Be fifty, boldly, proudly, as I am of you!

Pastor Smith Reads Pagan Christianity

A friend of Pastor Smith’s handed him a red covered book, and said, “You might like this. Just ignore my underlining.” With that Pastor Smith’s journey into never, never land began. The book was Pagan Christianity, by Frank Viola. He read and felt like his job was threatened. He wandered through the arguments for house churches, and knew in his heart that simpler was better. He asked Mattie, his wife, “But what do we do with the building and all the people who like the way it is?”

He read Viola’s passion and anger at the way Constantine introduced pagan rituals, buildings, and practices to Christians. He took a step back because of that anger. He told an elder, “I feel like my world’s been shaken, but I need to let the dust settle before making a decision.” Pastor Smith mentioned he was reading this book in a sermon only to have Mrs. Bewley and Ronnie Tempest ask him separately if this Pagan Christianity means, “…we won’t be celebrating Christmas around here anymore?”

With great speed Pastor Smith changed the Sunday night service into a kind of house church within First Church. He broke the fifty or so people into small groups each week. He let the singing be Spirit-led, that is, the music was chosen by the people. He taught a little and then let the people discuss the text. Several weeks in a row, he had people talk about what God was doing in their lives, but that lasted only about an average of ten minutes before someone brought up an ache or a pain which spun the group down “illness of the week” reporting. Overall, Pastor Smith started to see his Sunday night crowd get closer and start doing some homework before coming. He assigned reading week by week, but something more was missing!

Viola had talked about communion being surrounded by a feast in the early church so Pastor Smith announced a potluck dinner the next Sunday night with communion. “Make it simple so you don’t spend your whole afternoon cooking,” he announced. By this time the folks were sure this “Pagan Christianity” kick was sticking, and not so outrageous. Communion was louder than some expected, but Pastor Smith had each group serve each other, then talk about what Jesus death meant to them. The feelings were so intense he felt like singing, “Kum Ba Yah, Ma Lord.” Of course, a couple of older folks told each other it was just a fad and would go away, but the two college children of Elder Johnson who were visiting from school loved it! They told their dad to have Pastor Smith do it again!

Through the years of his ministry Pastor Smith had attended conferences and read books to seek a secret weapon for making ministry easier or more effective. Sure, he could count about forty people in the last five years who said they had never read the Bible like this before, or another dozen or so who had dramatic conversions, but on the whole, everyone seemed to be about the same. Without changing the whole church, or packing up his office and taking down his ordination certificate, Pastor Smith decided that Pagan Christianity was right, but not all right. Those fifty or so folks on Sunday night were having a little revival. He thought he’d let them spread the word about a house church within a church-church if these changes were real.

Pastor Smith’s (unfortunately) Powerful Tongue

Written for my wife for our 26th anniversary today.

Pastor Smith stuck out his tongue at the congregation during his sermon. It was the last time Barbara and Floyd Cloyd would be in that church. Of course, Pastor Smith was making a point totally other than the rudeness of a Bronx cheer. He was making a huge point! He stuck out his tongue at the idols in our lives. And The Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Cloyds missed it. He spoke about idolatry that morning. That’s all.

Afterward, when the elders had convened an emergency meeting to discuss their pastor’s tongue-y behavior, Pastor Smith admitted that if it were a Woodstock crowd he would have mooned the idols! The elders all chuckled, and told him he could just go on preaching with passion. It worked. They’d handle the Cloyd’s.

But Pastor Smith did not let it go. He could fret for days! He knew worry was a sin, but the Cloyd’s had been members for two years. The sat in the front row. Now what? Everyone would see that the woman with the pink hair, and the husband who looked like Mr. Cleaver, would be absent, missing, maybe even “disgruntled.” Those disgruntled members really ate at Pastor Smith’s psyche.

Someone once gave him a three-foot Q-tip to remind him to “Quit Taking It Personally.” It didn’t work. He woke in the night sweating out his anxiety, gave it to God, then analyzed his behavior and the others to see how it could fit together all over again. He knew that in the morning it wouldn’t matter, but even now, after thirty years of ministry, people’s behavior toward him destroyed him for days.

Pastor Smith woke on Monday morning to bright sunshine, crisp air, and a new day. His first thought wasn’t pink hair in the front row or the elder’s chuckling, but the smell from the kitchen. Mattie must have gotten up early to make him breakfast. There she was, fixing eggs, whole wheat toast, and oatmeal. She knew he needed a picker-upper-morning. Starbucks Breakfast Blend was brewed in the coffee press. She read him a short devotional that she had read that morning, and prayed before they ate. “Unbelievable,” he thought. “How did she know that all I needed was to know the world was still a safe place with someone who loved me?”

The rest of the day, Pastor Smith waited for the elders to get back to him about the Cloyd conversation. How did he know that sticking out his tongue to make a point would kick the Floyd Cloyd’s clear out the front door of church. No wonder James says the tongue is so powerful!

Touching Alzheimer’s Story

From a friend, a touching letter of love and fulfillment of the marriage vows, “…in sickness and in health.” The names are changed to preserve identity.

First off I wanted to thank for the wonderful, personal note that you sent Dad.  The timing was perfect and it gave him a much needed boost at the exact moment he was really coming to grips with the reality that Mom would no longer be living with him. We had discussed that inevitable moment for at least 2 years, but having it come to fruition was nevertheless very emotional. Your note gave me hope that the Smith Family is intact, functioning and a source of comfort despite the fact that we link up only occasionally. It meant a lot to him and it meant a lot to me…thanks

Trish and I went into LA to help Mom move into an Assisted Living Facility.  Despite the anticipation and visualization of it being a highly emotional event, it went very well for everybody. Mom was calm and having the bustle of Trish and Bob and I doing this and that helped distract Dad.  Dad is at peace with the decision, mostly because he knows he did absolutely everything he could have to be her caregiver … and more. He took it to the wall – but it just got to be too much. Watching what he did over the last four years is truly inspirational… and frankly somewhat intimidating as Trish and I project how we would behave in a similar situation.  She is in a wonderful facility and very well cared for and I know that helps Dad

John, my biggest hope now is that Dad embraces this new phase of his life – and gets back to business of enjoying life for himself – guilt free. He deserves it.  Even in the first 2 days after she moved, you could literally feel the release of the emotional and physical burden that he has carried. Dad is 83 but still very physically active and still has a mind like a steel trap.  But all of that was put aside for mom over the last four years, and really over the top in the last 6 months. I keep telling him that we can’t let this ruin and otherwise perfect life. I really want him to believe that it’s okay when he doesn’t think about her 24 hours a day.  I know he will visit and do everything he can to continue to express his deep love, but I want him to feel like its okay to be otherwise happy. I think he is capable of doing that.