The one that hit me hard...

Last night I was at the Y when I ran into an old friend. I've known this person for almost 20 years, our social circles merging and separating at various stage of our lives. I hadn't seen him or his wife for a while, so my first question was, "How's your wife?" His response was that she had cheated on him and they were in the middle of a divorce. In those moments it takes a second for that kind of information to sink in. I start off with thinking, "No way! He's gotta be joking!" and quickly follow that with, "No, no one sane would joke about that kind of thing!" I stood there in the YMCA trying to process that his wife, a friend of mine, had done the unthinkable. Now, some of you may know that my own parents are divorced as a result of my father's infidelity, so I have little tolerance for that. As I stood there fighting the tears, listening to my friend tell me what had been going on in his life, I felt the anger rising.

How could she do that after 15 years of marriage?

How could she do that to her children?

Yet, as I thought about the situation for the rest of the evening other thoughts came to me. I have been married 10 years. Five years ago, if you had told her what she would be doing today, what would her reaction have been?

Revolt? Disgust? Denial?

Probably.

Then I wondered, at what point do you cross that line? What boundaries were crossed, little by little, that led to that final plunge? To destroy everything and everyone in your life? To do the unthinkable?

I am reminded of the story of David and Bathsheba. It started innocuously enough - at the time of the year when kings went off to war, David stayed home. Nothing evil. Yes, he wasn't where he should have been, but how serious is that? If I'm typing this blog entry instead of doing laundry, how bad is that, really? Then it progressed. David saw her, bathing on the roof. He had the choice to look away, but he didn't. A little looking won't hurt anything, right? Right? Then he asked about her. Then he sent for her. Then it happened. Then came the cover-up. And finally, the even more unthinkable.

Murder.

As I think about David's spiral into sin, the little, seemingly inconsequential steps, I think about the teachings of a small group leader from several years ago. He was discussing this very incident when he said that God called David a "man after His own heart." If a man after God's own heart was capable of adultery and murder, what are the rest of us capable of?

Now as I think my friend, it is with a little less judgment. I wonder when she will realize exactly what she has done. What she has done to her children (trust me - this will be with them for the rest of their lives). To her husband. To herself. When will she see the shattered shards of her life and realize that she is responsible?

I also think of myself. It's easy to say "No - this will never happen to me!" Maybe I'm starting to realize that no one plans to do this. No one says, "I'm going to take my children's lives and mangle them into an unidentifiable wreckage." I find myself watching.

Watching myself.

What little, seemingly inconsequential steps could I be taking that go even remotely near that path? It only takes one step in the wrong direction.

David simply stayed home when he should have gone out.