In my last post we explored relationships that start poorly and how they lead to troubled marriages. We use as a sort of case study the story of the love triangle that is Abram, Sarai, and Hagar's relationship (found in Genesis). We pick up the story where we left off, as we see their home become a war zone which leads to a final split.
Maybe we can't relate to this
particular context, yet anyone who has experienced divorce will understand what
it's like for a home to become a war zone.
It's a war fought with words hurled back and forth with cursing,
yelling, insults, lies, half truths, screaming, arguments, threats, and other
verbal weapons of mass destruction.
There are even physical wars which include fist fights, rape, stabbings,
and shootings. Then, worst yet, are the
“Cold Wars.” These are wars of silence
and espionage. No words are exchanged...at
all. No affection. No smiles.
No love. All the while both sides
stockpile weapons waiting on the other side to strike first so that they might
have good reason to unleash a full-scale assault. Without a peace treaty or some other form of
intervention these types of conflicts can only end one way...carnage, destruction, and death
Hagar's response was typical. She left.
She did what anyone else would do.
It's only a matter of time in the course of war before one side to
simply retreats. When one person leaves the problems can no longer be avoided
or concealed. Now it becomes public
knowledge that there are major problems with the marriage. And usually, by the time a person leaves the
relationship is pass repair. Now there
are times when the marriage can be salvaged after a separation, but these
instances are the exception; not the rule.
It's in these moments of brokenness and loss that we begin to recognize
our deep need for counsel and strength.
Whereas, we might not know how to move forward, we know for sure we don't want go
back to the way things were. Sad to say that this level of brokenness is what
it often takes for God to get through to us.
Maybe this is when I'll start going back to church, or go seek
counseling, or call the pastor for special prayer and spiritual support. It's right at this extremely low point that
God shows up and gives great encouragement. The angel of the Lord comes to
Hagar and convinces her to return home.
In addition he tacks onto the command a number of promises relating to
the well-being of her son.
Hagar is convinced. So she goes back to Abram. And isn't this how it works? You're convinced
that things can work out. God can do
anything. He can turn things
around. He can help us patch things
up. We'll get counseling. We'll start spending more time together;
start talking more, and stop all the fighting.
We can work it out.
Hagar goes home and Ishmael is
born. And all of sudden, the stakes are
much higher. There's more at risk now
because this newborn baby imbibes everything that makes up the home
environment. It's amazing the things
they are able to pick up on too. We
think that we are shielding them from certain things, yet they're much sharper
and observant than we like to give them credit for. They hear the late night arguments. They know when we're angry with each
other. The problem is that the vast
majority of their understanding of life, themselves, the world, and God is
developed from their relation with mom and dad and the relationship that they
witness between them. Therefore, the
emotional and relational instability in the home has earthshaking implications
for the children. To see mom and dad breaking up means that their world is
crumbling apart.
Ishmael is able to grow and
develop in close relation with his dad Abram (now known as Abraham), and they
have a number of good years, but after Ishmael turns thirteen everything
changes (see Gen. 17). This is about the
time that Abraham's wife Sarai (now Sarah) is promised that she will give birth
to a son. The following year she finally
becomes pregnant and gives birth to a son—Isaac. Instead of focusing on the long-awaited,
elusive blessing of her newborn baby, she turns her attention (once again) to
her supposed threat and demands that Ishmael and Hagar be sent away for good
(see Gen. 21).
It turns out that as much as
things change, things stay the same.
Hagar came back but the situation never really changed. There was still tension and fighting. They were still distrustful and manipulative
towards each other. This is not going to
work out. We gave it a second shot and
it's clear that you will never change.
Maybe you can change, but I cannot wait for you to change and it's not
my job to change you. I think it's just best that we go our separate ways. Sound familiar?
I wonder how it must have felt for
Abraham to pack that final care package and watch his son and his “wife” walk off
into the horizon. The Bible does make it
crystal clear that “the matter distressed Abraham greatly because it concerned
his son” (Gen. 21:11 NIV). He didn't
want to lose his son. I'm sure he had
watched Sarah and Hagar fighting, manipulating, and manipulating so much that
he knew something had to give before the two of them tore each other
apart. Yet, he loved his son Ishmael
deeply. He had prayed that God would
extend His blessing over Ishmael as well as Isaac (see Gen. 17:18). He wanted the best for his son and he
couldn't bear the thought of losing him and expecting his mother to care for
him on her own.
And let's be careful not to short
change the significance of the relationship that he shared with Hagar. It is rare that you meet a man who wishes
ill-will on the mother of his children.
I'm sure they exist, but it's like finding shark teeth on the
beach—that's not something you see everyday.
Besides these two have shared meaningful, loving exchanges for nearly
fifteen years. They laughed, cried, and
smiled together. They have a real
bond. This is a loss. And on top of that he is losing a faithful
servant from his household. This is a
loss—a big loss.
This isn't fair. This is painful. This is divorce. It is hurt.
It is brokenness. It is loss.
Speaking of loss, when we talk
about divorce we always talk about the spiritual, relational, and emotional
brokenness, but what about the financial loss and even vocational loss. Divorce demands breaking up and splitting up
the stuff: the house, the cars, the alimony, child support, with court costs and lawyer
fees ad-nauseam. So after the smoke
clears and the dust settles I'm not only broken, but I'm also broke.
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