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Print (Gabby’s Note: Although the following two questions seem to be only peripherally related, I’ve chosen to answer them together.) Dear Gabby, I'm a 50-something-year-old Apostolic man who finds it increasingly difficult to rid my heart of harbored bitterness regarding a lost love of over 35 years ago. My present marriage hasn't been compatible for many years now. My story in brief—I fell in love with a woman when I was in Bible College and the head of the college advised us to end the relationship because we were of different races. We complied, but I now find myself increasingly despondent about what I consider a tragic and irreversible decision I made back when I was a naive and trusting college student. Please advise. Bitter in Baltimore Dear Gabby, Quite a few years ago, I was at a conference chatting with a couple of respected ministers. In the middle of our conversation, one of them told a racist joke. Although it made me uncomfortable, I didn’t say anything to either of them and I still feel guilty about it all these years later. What do you think I should do? Guilty in Gainesville Dear Bitter and Guilty, Dear Bitter and Guilty, My wise Mama insisted on a clean house every single day. Actually, she insisted that we clean up our messes as soon as we were finished making them. The problem was that we didn’t want to. (Of course, we would never have indicated that to our Mama, but we definitely thought it!) After meals, Mama would require us to immediately get up from the table to clean the kitchen. Or when we’d get out of the bath, she’d insist that we pick up the towels, put away the soap, and wipe up any spills we’d made. We were never allowed to leave our toys in the living room or outside in the yard when we finished playing. When I married my dear Harry, I continued following my Mama’s example of immediately cleaning everything, although I must admit that I was sure it didn’t matter all that much if I left the dishes in the sink overnight. So, when Harry died and I was suddenly alone, I made an unconscious decision to loosen the housecleaning restrictions I’d made on myself for 52½ years of marriage. I stopped automatically putting my pocketbook on the shelf where it belonged. If I ate a piece of candy, I’d leave the wrapper on the coffee table. Many times, I’d just set my plate in the kitchen sink instead of immediately washing and drying it and putting it back in the cupboard. After shopping, I’d only put some of the purchases away, thinking that it really didn’t matter since no one but me would see it. I lived that way for almost a year. Then one day, I had a horrible headache and was out of aspirin, so I decided to drive to the store to buy some. But I couldn’t find my pocketbook. I searched and searched, under newspapers, behind the couch cushions, in my bedroom, even in the laundry room. It seemed to have disappeared, which meant that my car keys were gone, as well as my wallet with my money and my driver’s license (which I didn’t earn until I was in my 40s)—not to mention my favorite snapshot of Harry. I sat down on the couch (after removing three magazines, a pink sweater, and a navy blue shoe) and sobbed. I cried about the loss of my purse and its contents. I cried about my headache and the lack of aspirin nearby. I wept about the loss of my dear Harry. And then, I cried harder when I reached for a tissue from the box on the coffee table and, although there were several books, a dried-out bowl (from chicken noodle soup), and three soda bottles on the table, the tissue box was nowhere to be found. After a few minutes, I leaned back on my couch and, through my sniffles, took a good look at my house. What a mess! Harry had lived there for a half century and he wouldn’t have recognized it if he’d miraculously returned from the grave. It’d been months since I’d invited someone over. Every single room was in shambles. I knew it’d be a big job, but I immediately got up from my self-centered cry and, in the midst of my headache, began—right that very moment—to put my house back in order. It took me four days of concentrated work to finish the job; four days that could’ve been spent living life and doing something fun and productive. All those things I didn’t take care of immediately ended up costing me much more time and effort to clean up later. So Mr. Bitter and Mr. Guilty, what I want to ask you is, “Why are you letting your yesterdays clutter up your today?” Mr. Bitter, instead of obsessing about a decision you made three-and-a-half decades ago, it’s time to look at the life you have now and clean it up, like I had to do to my house. Let me say this strongly—God is not pleased by your preoccupation with a woman who’s not your wife. He’s clear about that in His Holy Word. A real adult focuses his attention and energy on what is, not what might have been. You say your marriage isn’t what it should be. It’s up to you to fix that. Regarding the loss of your college love, my darling brown-eyed daughter would say, “Get over it!” You made a decision. It’s done. It’s over. It’s in the past. Now, it’s up to you to deal with the mess you’ve made. Yes, you. Blaming your current dissatisfaction on the head of a college 35 years ago is a flimsy excuse for the life that you personally have lived. And, Mr. Guilty, I acknowledge that your situation was uncomfortable. I also agree that racist jokes are inappropriate, but, like Mr. Bitter, you’re letting something that happened years ago affect the good you could be doing today. What a waste of life! If you’ve talked to the Lord about the situation once, and asked Him to forgive you for your inaction at the time, then it’s over. Get busy doing something productive and forget the past. I trust that you two gentleman will move beyond your yesterdays and still find that you have something positive and constructive to offer the Lord and the people in your lives today. Oh, and speaking of finding, I did find my pocketbook—on the seat of my car, right where I’d left it. Sincerely sincere, Gabby
ninetyandnine.com © 2005, ninetyandnine.com ---------- Gabrigail VanBurden has been offering advice for longer than most of you have been alive. Email your practical Apostolic life questions to Gabby@ninetyandnine.com and be prepared for some straight answers! |
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