getting defensive

Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A chord of three strands is not easily broken. Ecclesiastes 4:12

In military excursions of the Greek/Spartan era, a common maneuver was the phalanx. This arrangement  deployed soldiers in such a way that their shields were protecting not themselves, but the neighbor to their immediate left. This was refined by various groups – the Romans used it quite effectively, for example – but the principle was always the same: my job is not to protect myself; it is to protect my brother-in-arms.

This concept is often lost on addicts; we tend to be quite selfish.

If the enemy is charging, I’m covering my own rear, thank you very much.

Addiction – a war? Am I being a little dramatic?

What are the likely outcomes of substance abuse, or sexual acting out?

Death stalks the one who walks alone.

There is strength in numbers, but not ultimate strength. See, each soldier used his shield to protect the man to his left. That meant that the right end of the line was always the weak point, and any worthy adversary knew that and attacked at that point of weakness. As a result, the most experienced and strongest were put at that end. They anchored the line.

If two addicts decide it is time to get some honesty and come clean, but have no one stronger to lean on, they will likely collapse, potentially harming each other.

For me, recovery did not begin until I got myself into community with some people who had been down the same road – veterans of the war I needed to fight. And now I’m one of the veterans.

I don’t say that proudly – this is a fight I wish I was not in. And watching people fall because they give up the battle is painful.

I’m watching a family that is a mirror of my own in many ways, breaking and dying because the husband is not willing to fight. The wife is strong, and fights on…but her husband should be standing with her. She has friends, good friends, who will use their shields to defend her; but the loss of one weakens the phalanx.

Whatever your battle, don’t fight alone.

And once you’ve enlisted, don’t surrender.

all’s well that ends well

Her husband died unexpectedly a few months ago. He had the kind of week where all went incredibly well, capped off by playing a round at one of the premiere golf clubs in the Atlanta area. He stopped for some water on the way home, and collapsed. He never regained consciousness, and his family was left with a very sudden and very large hole in their lives.

I look at where she is, and can’t help but compare to where my own mother was a few months, even several years, after my father’s death.

Our friend is in a pretty healthy place. She has a lot of people around her who are supportive, and an army of people from her church who have really been God’s arms around her these past few months.

My mother is still stuck. When dad died, she had me. Oh, she had a few friends…but her church was not the kind where a widow is treated the way Christ described true religion.

I’m so glad for our friend, and so sad for my mom.

I’ve watched my mom try to be tough, to be strong. And I’ve seen her become more bitter than tough, more angry than strong. I see our friend becoming more comfortable with who she is as she allows others to show her love.

Life isn’t fair. We say that as a cliche, but it is so true. And we can’t make life fair, no matter how hard we might try. So I guess the secret is in making sure you are in a place where other arms can and will reach out to hold you when life’s unfairness reaches out to touch you.

fill ‘er up, please

This weekend I had a very pleasant reminder of a crucial concept: when your tank gets low, it is important what you use to fill it up.

My wife and I have been on competitive schedules, meaning that we seem to have been saying “hi” and “bye” more than anything else, for about the last month. My kids? Well, I had some time with them here and there, but it hasn’t really been what I would call “quality” time. It has generally been at times when I was so worn down I had trouble being patient, and was not very accommodating to their wants and needs.

I have let a project at work take priority over my family. As the son of a certified workaholic, that’s a big no-no.

My wife had a her women’s group over at the house Saturday, so I used the time to full advantage. I took the kids to a nature center where we could walk through the woods, talk, be together, and not have any “busy” time. We stopped to look at bugs, talked about what beetles and vultures do in the grand scheme of things, watched a beaver wash his face…in short, we did nothing urgent, but everything important.

Saturday evening my beloved and I had an actual date. We went to see Fireproof – which deserves multiple blog entries unto itself. We weren’t rushed, and just had a great evening.

To top it off, after church Sunday we (spouse included this time) went to a park along the Chattahoochee (Atlanta’s idea of a river) and had a picnic. The weather was perfect, the river was gorgeous…and again, we did nothing urgent.

Chattahoochee River, Jones Bridge park

Today, I feel like my tank is pretty full.

There is still a discarded water heater laying in the back yard, and it needs to go to the dump. There is still a dead tree laying down back there, waiting for me and a chainsaw to dispose of it. My van’s heater is still unpredictable. My project at work is still unmanageable.

But I am refreshed, renewed, and ready to face today.

I haven’t felt that way for a month.

Or two.