Thursday, April 03, 2003

Just received another casualty report from the war at home.......or rather, the War On The Home. My mother called to inform me that my eighteen year-old brother has just gotten married at the courthouse yesterday to a girl he's dated only two months. Against all surrounding wisdom and godly influence on every corner of his life, this act was preceded by a decline toward experimentation with alcohol and smoking, surging mood swings and a generalized vacuous and unresponsive look in his eyes when those around him tried to reason with him. Inserted along the way into the drama was his retort to my mom that he did not believe in God anymore.

He also chose to ice the fiasco with dropping out of school just two months before graduation. His 17 year old wife has also been released from her home due to her rebellion as well. So last night they spent their first night as husband and wife God knows where, with no car, no job, no education and nowhere to stay. Just the intoxication of one another to sustain them.

His school is in no better shape as well. The sexual exploits of it's members are well known, possibly due to it's smallness. Kids caught in cars going at it. Lurid letters found in lockers connecting girls to 21 year-old men. Drugs. Rampant disrespect toward faculty with resulting resignations.

Did I mention this was a Christian school?

Seems that my brother's new wife/child's best friend is the ring leader. Around her- apparently- orbits the crowd of disrepute who have aided and abetted my bro. Her expellment from school just days ago seems to also have precipitated the chain of events that led to the hasty matrimony. I am sure that as far removed as I am from the situation, there is much more underneath the surface- more that I don't see.

But I do see division, strife, discord, disharmony, disunity and destruction. I do see families being ripped apart. I do see the fingerprints of the mastermind of rage, chaos and wanton rebellion. I see him hiding somewhere, in the shadowy hollows he's carved out under the power of invitation, drunk on the fuel of human pride. I see his barbed tendrils noosed around my brother's neck squeezing out not just sensibility, but life-blood from his veins. I see the accuser of the brethren laying siege on family histories and resurrecting the still rotting corpses of mistakes gone by. Blade-like fingernails prick open the puss-filled wounds of those yesterdays like a blade through butter. I see the history of the hurts/disillusionments of my family of origin laid bare before me again.

(And I know God, you are sovereign over even my hidden woundedness you still pine to heal. God, how you've touched, but how I haven't even noticed that your healing hand is still outstretched toward my emotional nakedness).

I see you, Old Scratch, you serpent of old, our enemy and opposer and diabolos at play. Your enemy, Jehovah, sees you too. His eyes sear with vengeful fire. Battle's over. I won't fight a loser. I relegate you to the Christus Victor. 'Nuff said.