When You Divorce Me…

When You Divorce Me…

The Pharisees also came to Him, testing Him, and saying to Him, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for just any reason?” – Matthew 19:3 On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom. This was the scene ten years ago. The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid; I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school. Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes. Dew came into my life. It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her. Dew said, “You are the kind of

View Full Post

;

Traffic Ticket

Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often? When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand. Bob? Bob from church? Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A Christian cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little anxious to get home after a long day at the office. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow. Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he’d never seen in uniform. “Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this.” “Hello, Jack.” No smile. “Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids.” “Yeah, I guess.” Bob seemed uncertain. Good. “I’ve seen some long days at the office lately. I’m afraid I bent the rules a bit-just this once.” Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement. “Diane said something about roast

View Full Post

;

The House Behind the Weeds

The House Behind the Weeds

Just two little boys walking down a dusty lane They came upon this old white house With broken window panes. The paint was faded, the shine was gone The grass had grown so high Still they made their little feet To see what was inside. They opened up the squeaky door And then it came to light This must have been an old church house Once upon a time. Dirty, dusty wooden pews A pulpit that still stood A bible laid upon it Though the pages weren’t too good. An offering plate and song books too Were lying on the floor They must have left this old church fast The day they closed these doors. And over in the corner A piano was still there It must have played a pretty tune But I guess nobody cared. So little Bill looked up at Tommy And Tommy looked at Bill Why Don’t we clean this old church up, and get these old pews filled?” They took a rag and wiped the dust To try and make things shine And then they took the offering plate And put in it their Last dime. They took a broom and swept the floor And picked up broken glass They got it all so nice and neat And then they mowed the grass. They lifted

View Full Post

;

A Date with the Other Woman

A Date with the Other Woman

After 21 years of marriage, I discovered a new way of keeping alive the spark of love. A little while ago, I started to go out with another woman. It was really my wife’s idea. “I know you love her,” she said one day, taking me by surprise. “But I love YOU!” I protested. “I know, but you also love her.” The other woman my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who has been a widow for 19 years. The demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. That night, I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie. “What’s wrong, are you well,” she asked? My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. “I thought it would be pleasant to pass some time with you,” I responded. “Just the two of us.” She thought about it for a moment, and then said, “I would like that very much.” That Friday, after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the doorway

View Full Post

;

The Important Things

The Important Things

A philosophy professor stood before his class with some items on the table in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, about 2 inches in diameter. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He then asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “Yes.” “Now,” said the professor, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The rocks are the important things – your family, your partner, your health, and your children – things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter – like your job, your house, your car. “The sand is everything else. The small stuff.” “If

View Full Post

;

A Thousand Marbles

A Thousand Marbles

The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it’s the quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it’s the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable. A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the kitchen with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time. Let me tell you about it. I turned the volume up on my radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning talk show. I heard an older sounding chap with a golden voice. You know the kind, he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business himself. He was talking about “a thousand marbles” to someone named “Tom”. I was intrigued and sat down to listen to what he had to say. “Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you’re busy with your job. I’m sure they pay you well but it’s a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a

View Full Post

;

Do NOT follow this link or you will be banned from the site!