Flirting With fire

King David sent his army out to battle while he stayed back in the city (I Chron 20:1). That seems innocent enough. So innocent that I have never heard anyone else belabor the point and explain why that comment is included by the chronicler of the kings’ stories. But I think I have come to understand how much meaning is packed into that little statement. Allow me some imaginative license in interpreting the story, embellishment you might call it, because I think we need to hear it. It was not innocent happenstance that occurred when David looked down from his rooftop.

David was a warrior. Always was. Never going to quit. To stay home and send Joab out to lead his army was more than significant. It had intrigue written all over it. Sad thing was, the few who could see and know what was going on, they all kept silent and let David blow it big time. After all, no one tells a king what he should and shouldn’t do. No one, that is, except God. And God chose to wait and let this whole thing run its full course before He sent the prophet Nathan to David’s front door.

David had just conquered the city of Jebus, probably less than ten years prior to this story. He made it the “City of David” -- Jerusalem, as it would come to be known. But at this point in his life he had only built his palace, and homes for his thirty mighty men surrounding the palace. One of those homes was that of Uriah and Bathsheba.

While it may have been customary for people to go to the roof of their home to take a bath in the warm sun, it could have, and should have been done modestly and discreetly. I don’t think the first viewing of Bathsheba bathing on the roof top below happened after the army went out to war. It had begun months earlier. In fact, she may have even known that David was watching her. I even suspect that there had already begun some flirting and clandestine liaisons taking place. Definitely some flirtatious glances and suggestive gestures. That is the underlying reason why David stayed behind in the city instead of going out with his army. The lure of seduction and an affair with a beautiful woman incapacitated his ability to be reasonable and responsible. He was swept off his feet with the possibility of how far this affair could go if Joab and the other mighty men were all gone, and he was home alone. That’s the nature of sexual addiction. Blind and reckless.

So, now, Joab is gone, and the opportunity is ripe. David sent for Bathsheba to come to his palace, maybe for lunch, or afternoon tea. And what had started as flirting and lustful desires burst into a blazing fire. There were probably repeated visits, and everyone turned a blind eye. David was so blinded by the fire of his passions that he essentially tuned out God for a year of his life and followed the passion of sexual desire. So much so that he tried to cover over her pregnancy, and with that attempt failing, he had Uriah killed. With Uriah dead David may have hoped that the story in the headlines of the Gazette would read, “King David steps up to the plate, honorably refusing to leave Uriah’s pregnant wife as a widow.”

But the fire still would not have gone out. What started as a spark began to smolder and catch flame. Then the raging fire wreaked havoc, as sexual lust and unleashed pleasure always do. Only God could put out the fire and restore the damage. He sent the prophet Nathan. And David responded wholeheartedly, a man after God’s own heart. His confession is as real as real can get (Psalm 51).

The lesson for us, both men and women, is to be aware how dangerous it is to flirt with fire. Knowing glances, playful comments and gestures, wishful desires -- they all have disaster written on the label. Flammable. And secondly, if you find yourself making plans to fulfil your lustful desires, you have one of two choices. You can pour gas on the fire and let her rip. Or you can disclose it to a friend who will keep you from shipwreck. And for God’s sake, if you have a friend disclose to you impending disaster, take them seriously. Don’t stand back and watch the flames.

“Guard your heart, with all diligence, for it is the well spring of life…. Can a man take fire in his bosom, and his clothes not be burned? … So is the one who goes in to his neighbor’s wife; whoever touches her will not go unpunished.”  (Prov 4:23; 5:27,29)

Bipolar: Learning to Love

I think I have gained some insight on bipolar, a mental disease that so many live with. I have been married to it for over 45 years. My wife’s father suffered with it, although, being a pastor, he hid it well. His mother spent her life plagued with it as well, and tried to commit suicide.  And now two of our children have inherited it, big time – a son and a daughter. 

I am not a medical expert, but I do know that bipolar is a disease, much on par with any other disease, like cancer, arthritis, dementia. It is a disease in the brain, not in the heart, the lungs, or the joints.  I know that medical treatment for mental diseases is relatively new, and still developing. Drug treatment (anti-depressants and mood stabilizers) can help diminish the depression and manic episodes, leveling off the highs and lows a bit. But drugs do not cure the disease. It’s not like chemotherapy or a hip replacement. I also know that it is often very difficult for the severely depressed bipolar person to get medical help. To be taken serious and go through all the referrals is often more that the lost soul can endure, so they give up. Or they hide it, even from a doctor, not wanting to admit how bad their life and symptoms really are. Many turn to self-medication – alcohol or meth, creating a dual diagnosis. Especially men. Men tend to think that they are their own problem, that they can and must push through, muster up the self-will to get out of bed and go to work, exist amicably in the family while everything around them is falling apart.

One woman writer told her story of living with a husband with depression. He was an intrepid world traveler as an editor for a major publication. But when the darkness came, he attempted to cope with it through alcohol. He became adept at hiding just how bad it was. Depression slowly changed his personality, as alcohol addiction began to threaten his health. They tried AA, Al-non, and several respected rehab centers. Loving and living with someone suffering with depression and alcoholism eventually becomes chaotic. Only those close can help and encourage as emotional and financial devastation take their toll. Others looked on from afar, assuming and judging, wondering why such a great life could turn this bad. Truth is, depression is a master of disguise. Some said to her that if he only had more willpower, he could overcome it all. Funny thing is, no one blames the person suffering from dementia for losing his mind. She finally lost her husband to suicide. Tragic, but yet some relief. She loved him to the end, but she had lost him years earlier.

I have many friends and acquaintances that have been touched by bipolar disease and depression. Let me share a few stories. One good friend, a middle-aged man, has struggled with bipolar for years. He lost his first marriage, ending in an angry confrontation with police and some time in prison. He now lives with his parents, cannot keep a job, and had a girlfriend who told him he needs to learn to be happy. But he refuses to take prescription drugs to help. A typical male response. Another good friend has a daughter who was a state champion athlete. She married a really nice young man that everyone adored. After a few years his darkness came on. He could not get out of bed to go to work. He lost all ambition, and then began drinking heavily. His wife eventually came to the conclusion that she was going to have to be a one-parent family. Several people I know gave up on being married to a wife with bipolar depression. They wanted a happy life of their own and could not put up with the burden. One of those wives has been destitute her whole life, not able to work or give love to her children, and barely able to cope.

My wife, Carol, was a cheerleader in high school, and the homecoming queen. She was cute, beautiful, athletic, energetic, photogenic, and hardworking. She became a nurse and worked in med-evac and in a neonatal intensive care nursery. All the while she was very supportive of me as I worked on a graduate degree in theology. About the time we had our first child, though, the darkness settled in. The disease that had come down the family line began to manifest with severe depression. (It was not until some thirty years later that the manic episodes began to manifest and become problematic.) Even with depression she still managed to raise six children – packing lunches, running taxi, washing clothes, and keeping a tidy home. She continued working as a nurse her whole life, mostly just half-time. But there were spells where she spent days in bed, unable to function. She willed herself to go to work, but doing so with such great depression took a toll and she needed a couple medical leaves of absence and early retirement to make it through. I have to confess that I was not the most understanding, loving, and supportive husband that I needed to be.  It took me years to understand her disease and how to lovingly help and support her. Now we have learned how to ride out the high and lows, and enjoy the life God has given us to share together. I now call her “super-grandma”. And she’s still beautiful, I might add.

Most people do not even know she suffers with bipolar. We tell only a few close friends. I think that even our own children don’t fully understand it, nor how it afflicts their brother and sister. Most people don’t understand it, and in fact most are at a total loss how to be encouraging or supportive. My wife was in a women’s group at church until one day they got on a tangent talking about women with bipolar and how crazy and unreliable they are. She sat there in silence, listening to all their ignorant judgment. She never went back.

People with bipolar and mental diseases used to be kept in an institution, locked in a back bedroom, or otherwise ostracized from “normal” society. Today, with medications, most try to be a functional part of family and society. How will we engage them? With blame or impatience? Avoidance or disgust? Or are we willing to learn how to love and encourage those who are depressed and addicted, who have been given a lot in life, not of their own choosing, a disease which is extremely overbearing and debilitating? God loves each one, dearly, and we should, too.

Motivated by Love

“My father surprised me. I did the worst thing imaginable, and I expected the worst punishment my Father could think of. But, instead, he forgave me. And he said, genuinely, and lovingly, don’t let it happen again.”

We were discussing the concept from Titus 2:10, that “The grace of God teaches us to say “no” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives.” Someone asked the question, how does grace motivate us to say “No” to temptations? It seems that rules, commands, and legalistic expectations would be far more effective in persuading us to be obedient, compliant, and to stay out of trouble. Fear of punishment is a far greater motivator than grace, it would seem.

But our storyteller in the group that night went on to tell us how that exchange with his father affected him some fifty years earlier in his life, when he was about twelve years old. He said that he was so moved by his Father’s love and forgiveness that he never did that horrible misdeed again. Never. Furthermore, he never even considered doing anything like it.

Wow! That was a perfect illustration of the power of love. Not only human love, but the love of our Father above.

When I first came to understand grace, after being a Christian for thirty years, it transformed my life. I was able to live free from shame and enjoy my relationship with Jesus as never before. I began to contemplate, though, what is the motivation to overcome sin’s hold in my life if I live in grace? It took some time to get it dialed in, and it was probably in the rearview mirror that I realized I had discovered it. Fear of punishment had never worked. I could confess and bargain with God a hundred times and I would always fall again, swept away by the power of Sin, trusting my own willpower to conquer it so I could make God proud of me.  But as I let God’s love and grace permeate my heart and mind it became the dominant motivator as I lived in intimate fellowship with Jesus. I let go of fear of punishment, and let go of trying really, really hard not to fail, so that He could be proud of me. I rested in His incredible love and it began to transform me, giving me hope, power, purpose, and new direction. But most of all, I found myself relating to God in love -- reciprocating love. “We love because He first loved us….There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment.” (I Jn 4:18,19)

My life testimony now, in six words is this: “Tried so hard. Failed. Then grace."

God’s grace incorporates three main ingredients – love, forgiveness, and transformation. And the greatest of these may be love. His love motivates us to say no to ungodliness and live self-controlled lives. Thank you God for your great, great love.