July 18, 2007

THE ME- CENTERED FAMILY

by Chuck Colson

The lead in a recent Washington Post article paints a disturbing picture: “Children rank as the highest source of personal fulfillment for their parents but have dropped to one of the least-cited factors in a successful marriage, according to a national survey.”

What’s the matter with that sentence? Too much to unpack entirely in a few minutes, but let’s zero in on those two enticing words: “personal fulfillment.” The emphasis on that idea tells us a lot about what’s really wrong with marriage and family today.

As the article states, “The 88-page report . . . underscores a widening gap between parenthood and marriage—at a time when living together out of wedlock has grown increasingly common and nearly one in four births is to an unmarried woman.”

The author quotes several people who say that they think of marriage and children separately, not as a package deal. By a wide margin, the respondents in this survey still want children. They even realize that children need a mother and a father. But increasingly fewer of them are practicing what they say they believe. Why? Because they also believe that marriage is all about “mutual happiness and fulfillment” and “personal satisfaction” instead of the “bearing and raising of children.”

Do you see what’s missing here? Nothing about putting someone else first. Just marriage as something that makes you feel good—which, as anyone who’s been married will testify, isn’t an idea that works for very long. It’s no wonder that more and more couples have trouble committing to marriage, and that many who do are having trouble making their marriages last.

This is so ironic. We live in an era where romance seems to be on its deathbed and sexual relationships have become casual, ordinary business. Yet here we have a generation with such an impossibly romanticized view of marriage that they have to find the spouse who’s always wonderful and satisfying—or no spouse at all.

And it’s also no wonder that the idea trickles down to child-raising. People want children to satisfy their own needs, or not at all. You may remember that a while back I talked about two very different mothers: one of them risked her marriage and her health and spent a small fortune conceiving a child; the other was filing a “wrongful-birth” suit over a botched abortion—a child she didn’t want. At bottom, I said, they both had the same idea: that a child was a commodity and that their right to self-fulfillment was their chief goal.

At least one married father quoted in this article, David Joyce, got it right when he said, “I think what we’re running into . . . is people saying, ‘[marriage] needs to be about me.’ And it doesn’t. It needs to be about ‘us’ or about ‘we.’ Anything that’s based on a ‘me’ scenario isn’t going to last very long.” Joyce is right.

So what kind of marriage lasts? A marriage in which the husband and the wife understand that marriage is about self-giving, not about self-satisfaction. That parenthood is a calling to self-sacrifice for the good of the child, not an avenue for self-fulfillment.

We need to start teaching our kids and young adults that me-centered families cannot survive. And instead of delivering happiness and self-fulfillment, the me-first attitude will bring, in the end, nothing but emptiness and a declining birthrate that will soon enough bring about the end of western civilization.

July 11, 2007

Choose It

A few years ago a man was waiting for a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon. He wrote in to an internet site to record an experience that changed his life.

As he was straining to locate his friend among the passengers leaving the plane, he noticed a man coming toward him carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to our visitor to greet his family.

First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, loving hug. As they separated enough to look in each other's face, the father said, "It's so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!" His son smiled somewhat shyly, averted his eyes and replied softly, "Me, too, Dad!"

Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe nine or ten) and while cupping his son's face in his hands said, "You're already quite the young man. I love you very much, Zach!" They too hugged a most loving, tender hug.

While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother's arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man said, "Hi, baby girl!" as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.

After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and declared, "I've saved the best for last," and proceeded to give his wife a long, passionate kiss. He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed, "I love you so much!" They stared at each other's eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands. For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but it was obvious by the age of their kids that they couldn't possibly be.

Our bystander puzzled about it for a moment then realized how totally engrossed he was in the wonderful display of unconditional love not more than an arm's length away from him. He suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if he was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear his own voice nervously ask, "Wow! How long have you two been married?"

"Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those," he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife's face.

"Well, then, how long have you been away?" the bystander asked.

"Two whole days!" came the reply

Two days? Our bystander was stunned. By the intensity of the greeting, our bystander assumed the man had been gone for at least several weeks, if not months. Almost offhandedly, hoping to end his intrusion with some semblance of grace the bystander said, "I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!"

The man suddenly stopped smiling. He looked the bystander straight in the eye, and with forcefulness that burned right into his soul, said something that left the bystander a different person. He said, "Don't hope, friend ... decide!"

Then he flashed his wonderful smile again, shook the bystander’s hand and said, "God bless!" With that, he and his family turned and strode away together.

The story can change us too, for while we may not all choose to display our love and affection in the same way as this family, we can decide whether we will dedicate ourselves to love. And it’s in that decision repeated daily that great marriages are made.

Source: Unknown

DAVID STONENORTHWAY
BAPTIST CHURCH
281-441-9473