September 8, 2015
WEATHERING THE STORMS
We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal
through us. We implore you on Christ's behalf: be reconciled to God. 2
Corinthians 5:20
The ancient Vikings built ships that were renowned for their strength and
ability to withstand the storm of cold northern seas. The planks which went
into the keel were important, but most important of all was the mainmast,
for it was the strength of this that meant surviving the storm or being lost
at sea. George Sanchez explains the secret of their unusual strength,
saying, "They had learned it wasn't good enough to simply find any tree of
the right height and circumference [for a mast]. Instead, they searched for
trees with the correct dimensions that had grown on sites exposed to the
storms blowing in from the open sea. Because the trees from exposed areas
had withstood the buffeting of rough weather over the years, they were
stronger and more flexible than trees from sheltered sites."
More than a few times, I've sought to moderate arguments between
individuals, often husbands and wives, and what I heard was a recital of
petty issues, minor irritations, and ongoing arguments. In some cases the
two parties involved were able to mature enough that they learned there are
better ways to solve problems than yelling and screaming at each other. But
in other cases, the two parted ways and became bitter enemies.
Did you notice that the ancient Vikings found that the masts with the
greatest strength were the ones that had weathered the storms? The fact of
the matter is that conflict is part of life. It is the result of two
individuals, both of whom have wills of their own, and no matter how much
you love someone, or how strongly you are committed to that person or to a
marriage, sooner or later, conflict is going to come.
It's what you do with conflict that determines whether or not your
relationship weathers the storm. I'm thinking of a situation that involved a
couple whose marriage was threatened by an act of infidelity on the
husband's part. Yes, the wife was shocked. Yes, the husband confessed and
seemed to be genuinely sorry for what he did. Yes, he promised never to
repeat his transgression. But, then, doesn't everyone promise that the
misdeed will never happen again? How could she be sure?
"Get rid of the bum," was the advice of her friends. That's when the woman
who was struggling with the issue of what to do, went to an older, trusted
friend. "Margaret, what should I do?" she asked after she had explained the
situation as carefully as she could.
Looking back over her 80 plus years and thinking of the people she had known
who had taken the fork in the road under similar circumstances, Margaret
said, "If I were you, I would forgive him and strive to rebuild that
relationship." Reconciliation is tough. Pointing the finger, exposing
someone publicly, walking away from a bad situation may make you feel
better, but there are long term implications.
Four little girls were in the home that I just described, and true to his
word, that husband honored his commitment, and the storm was weathered. What
happened? The marriage survived, and eventually, the four daughters saw
their dad walk them down the aisle when they married. None of them ever knew
the severity of the storm that threatened their mom and dad.
Reconciliation has nothing to do with who is right or who is wrong, but it
has everything to do with a relationship. Blinded by the hurt and pain of
betrayal, we seldom think of the long-term consequences of walking away from
relationships. Should you ever have an opportunity to visit Denmark or
Norway and see some of those old Viking ships, remember the strength of the
main mast was derived from weathering the storms, and because it was strong
it brought its cargo and passengers through the storm unscathed.
Resource reading: 2 Corinthians 5
Victoria E Gilkerson
