Jeff

Markins

The anesthesiologist told me moments before the C-Section was complete that when I heard the “really loud suction noise” that I could stand up and look over the curtain that separated me (and my wife’s head) from the area where they were performing major surgery. All at once he exclaimed, “That’s it!” I jumped up and much to my surprise I did not see a baby. I saw the doctor elbow-deep inside my wife’s abdomen. It looked like he was leaning in, reaching for her tonsils. I felt the blood fall from my head to somewhere just above my feet. Either I was going to hit the floor, or I was going to man up REALLY fast. God pulled me through and I was able to be the rock I needed to be.

Some days later I found myself with an intense desire to witness my infant son's circumcision. The intensity of the actual procedure was muted by the moments that led up to it. The doctor and her staff explained what was going on, why they were performing each step, and were already instructing me on how to care for my son in the near future.

The deed was finally done. As I looked on I realized two things. First of all this was definitely the most painful, heartfelt cry my son had ever produced. Second, this was the first time I had ever seen tears in his little eyes. My eleven-day old son was shrieking in pain. His little body was locked up, and tears were flowing down the sides of his face. There was nothing I could do. My boy needed me and I couldn’t rescue him. I had to stand there and watch my son suffer at the hands of strangers.

All in an instant the Holy Spirit ministered to me in what was the most supernatural way I’ve ever felt Him. What was conveyed was, “Jeffrey, do you now have some vague understanding of what I went through when strangers beat my Son senseless? I had to watch my Son suffer in ways you’ll never have to.” This thought was more than profound, but it was what He said next that almost brought me to my knees in that doctor’s office.

He said, “I know how much you love your son and how his tears hurt you. But you can’t comprehend how much I love mine. And I endured his tears and suffering for you.”

I closed my eyes and saw red words from my Bible that said,

Recently a friend and I were catching up. Through the course of the conversation the topic somehow drifted to our “bad old ways.” My friend began to tell me about one of his coworkers who liked to spend time and money at strip clubs. As he went on he also informed me that his friend was a “cheating bum."

He told stories of infidelity and the heartache that accompanied it with an almost gleeful look in his eyes. It’s the same sort of look you see in the TV version of a middle-aged “redneck”. (You know the guy... he has a big beer belly.  When he’s bragging about the engine in his hot rod he sticks his thumbs down the inside of his belt, proceeds to hike up his britches and sway back and forth on his feet.) The smile on his face was the same smile pasted on my friend’s face. It was pride. The part of the conversation that really left its mark on me was when he said the words, “I guess boys will be boys.”

We’ve twisted this harmless phrase and exploited it. This saying was invented to justify a little boy’s behavior when he wanted to jump from the roof into the swimming pool or see how fast he could ride his bike down a hill. Grown men (and women) have become masters of the art of justification.

Instead of growing up into respectable adults, some have learned that they can get away with anything if they simply say, “You might not agree with it, but it’s just the way we are.”  Have we forgotten that there is a clear right and a clear wrong?