Saturday, April 28, 2012

The Man Who Didn't Know His Wife. A Parable Of Discovery.

During the times of revolutions a young man named Sean lost everything including family to the oppressors who subjugated his country. Broken in spirit he and left his home and country to find a better life. He finally found work and a home on a farm in a southern country.  He was a hard worker and admired by the owner of the farm.

It was the age of new ideas and there was a revolution to over throw the king in favor of a republic. The owner of the farm supported the revolution and encouraged all the farm helpers to join the town militia where he was a captain. The revolution went badly and the king's army came to put it down and punish the town. The town was divided by a small river that had three bridges over it. In the battle the captain was trapped across the bridge about to be captured by the king's men. Sean rallied the militia to rescue the captain, they charged the bridge but the disciplined musket line released a volley of musket balls which turned all but Sean back. Musket fire always created a dense cloud of white smoke. The line was trained to ignore the smoke and to reload quickly and fire another volley into the white  cloud. Most militia would not run through the smoke fearful of running onto unseen bayonets once through. Sean heard the rattle of the muskets being reloaded through the smoke so without fear he charged through the haze yelling the war cry of his northern lands. The king's men had no idea what he was yelling and when they saw him emerge from the cloud of musket smoke, they thought a full charge was mounted, turning they fled so dozens were chased by one. The battle was turned and the captain was rescued.

After the war and a republic established Sean was rewarded for his courage with a small farm.  He worked his farm well; he began each day before sunrise and laboring long after the sun set. The hard work paid off and he added more farmland. Yet with prosperity he did not rest but continued to labor the farm until no other farm in the county matched it in size or production.

As time went on Sean thought it was time to find a wife. With much to do at the farm and a diligent work ethic Sean felt there was not time for meeting young ladies and courtship. There was an old widow that had a reputation as being a brilliant matchmaker between young successful farmers and young brides. So Sean sought her out. "I am ready for family life but the farm is too demanding for me to spend much time getting to know young ladies." He said.

"You've a strange accent where are you from?" the toothless old woman said.

"I'm from the dispersion of northern lands. Many of us have left oppression and hunger to find fortunes in the south."

"Your ways are different from ours. No local girl will have you."

"I was told you could find the perfect match for anybody."

"Come back in a month. I will introduce you to a young lady."

Sean was doubtful when a month later he came back to the hut. The old widow was alone in the dark main room. "I see you failed," He said, "there is no one."

"Oh, I have found a woman, she too is from the northern lands."  The widow pulled back the curtain to the back room and there stood a beautiful young woman. "Meet Annia."

The old widow indeed had done the perfect match. Sean never before saw a woman so beautiful; luscious hair cascaded over pale shoulders framing an innocent face and graceful neck. She looked up at him with big dark eyes and when their eyes met it both knew this was the one.

In a short time they were wed and Sean took his beloved Annia to the farm.  He adored her and she him.

Sean reasoned that a wonderful woman such as Annia deserved the best in life, therefore he threw himself into making the farm even more prosperous. As early as he got up before he now got up even earlier and though he worked late on the farm before he worked now even later. He was able to buy beautiful dresses for her and a piano and many other things.

Annia was somewhat unhappy. Sean reasoned that what she wanted was a man who was respected in his community, so he ran for a seat on the town counsel and became one of the leading men in local politics. Being a good man the laws he wrote were fair and just. Soon all respected him and sought him.

Annia was still not fully happy. Sean reasoned that what she wanted was a man who was devout and righteous in faith. So he went to chior practice every Wednesday and sang in the Sunday services, he was an usher on Sunday and served as a deacon at the local church. When he prayed in the prayer meetings he was so devout that the strongest men would tremble fearing that heaven would open before them.

Ania was still not fully happy. Sean reasoned that all women admired a man in uniform.  So he took over the captaincy of the local militia. Early every Saturday morning he would drill the militia and practice firing the town's one cannon. They marched in parades and fired at ceremonies.  Sean looked like a mans's man in his uniform.

Ania was a wonderful woman, indeed perfect in every way for Sean. In his hours of farm work she kept the house. When he was away at all the responsibilities and duties she was faithfully waiting for him. She always greeted him with a kiss and was the most affectionate wife ever.

There was another revolution, to remove the republic and force an imperial monarch in its place. Battles raged all across the land. The militia stood watch waiting. At dawn the town was attacked for supporting the republic. Sean with the cannon crew stood at the edge of the town facing the enemy. With a volley of musketry the imperialist charged the little town. A violent battle began that surged back and forth through the streets. The militia unable to defend against such numbers was crushed. Many townsfolk lay dead or wounded or captured.  Sean lay in the streets bleeding from wounds.

Annia with candle lamp held high over her head searched the town through the evening and found Sean almost crushed to death under a heavy cart, bleeding from many wounds, moaning and shivering in the icy night. She had him brought home to the farm. Over the following days Annia ministered to him, pouring sour wine on his wounds, changing bandages spooning soup between his swollen lips.

The months of his recovery stretched into seasons as summer turned to fall and fall into winter. Sean was bead ridden. Annia faithfully, and without tiring, nursed him to health. She fed him, spoke often, read the paper to him and stayed at his side without leaving, except for the most urgent duty. She ran the farm. but still stayed beside Sean at the bed.

Sean would see her face every time he opened his eyes. He heard her soft voice reading the paper or latest novel until his snores silenced her. He felt her touch on his hand during the day. He listened to her sing, and laugh.

It was spring before Sean could hobble downstairs and sit in the den, or on the porch. She sat next to him never leaving his side, always kind and caring.

Sean wondered at her apparent peace and happiness. He was no longer a rich and powerful farmer, a church leader, a militia captain or a town councilman. He was just Sean. He no longer wanted those things for himself because over the months he discovered Annia. He always knew what a wonderful woman she was but now discovered what a truly wonderful woman she was. He found out how kind, gracious, loving, gentle, peaceful, joyous, fun and beautiful of heart she was. He realized he when he was busy being something for her that he became too busy to know her. He resolved to never be parted from her and as such his love for her grew and grew deeper and stronger for each hour they spent together.

The farm became a true home.

Many Christians are so busy doing fine and good things, even God's kingdom work, that they are too busy to spend time with God. When we work on our relationship with Jesus as our highest priority, we will discover what a wonderful and beautiful Savior he is. It is sad that many Christians do not take time to get to know their Lord until they must spend a few seasons on their back.

(c)Adron Dozat