In Memory Of

It is with sadness I write of the death of the man whom would have been my father-in-law, had he and his wife not so venomously reacted to this skinny German guy their daughter was hanging with and eventually agreed to marry.

The family was Swedish and as such, very tight knit - as in no outsiders allowed. Not only was I an outsider, I was a foreigner, a German with an interest in their daughter, a fashion model (as her mother had been). They were torn between anger and terrified of me all at the same time.

From my viewpoint, this was the very first Christian family I had seen the interior of. I wanted to learn, I wanted to know what a Christian man was, I was a brand new Christian myself.

Yeah, it did not go well. Twin cultures slamming head first into one another. So, their rejection of me was understandable. And, I was quite accustomed to rejection. So, not an immediate problem. But, he was to be the one to terminate my pending marriage.

So, you might come to think that our relationship was horrible, that we bore dislike through the years for one another. Nope.

God had me take on the entire church during one business meeting. The church was to vote to discredit a man's testimony, a man whom had troubles, a man whom looked to our church for help and was rebuffed. He was not "cool". So, I stood up and let both barrels fly. By the time God was done with them (I was just a mouth piece, and to this day I have no idea what I said!), many were in tears and a mini-revival broke out.

As I sat down, quite shaken because this is completely not like me, I saw this man. He had been quietly standing behind me. He stood and never said a word. His presence is what had shut up the critics. The man I had hoped would be my future father, whom bore such a strong dislike for me that he personally killed my marriage, had stood in support of what was being said. And the church understood exactly what was going on, God was talking through the silly German boy and this Swede was willing to lend a voice to shut them up - in spite of what he thought of me. Wow!

Yes, through the years I have thought of him often. About a decade later, I was able to see him a few times a year, when ever our paths would cross. He embarrassed, me just happy to see the first Christian man I had come to know - whom may not have liked me but had supported in a confrontation. He never could understand that joy I had in seeing him.

Decades later he had Dutchman pass his apology on to me, with a long explanation for the choices he had made. It haunted him what he and his wife had done to me, and ultimately their daughter. No she never did marry, spent years in therapy, with numerous attempts to kill herself. Very sad because I am not so sure any of it had to happen. Of course, it made a mess of me for a few years too. But, his wife had crossed my path and met my children just after I had adopted them. She was horrified/stunned to learn that their names were the ones they had picked out for their grandchildren, they never had. I still am a little torn between, this is a sickness to not let parents name their children, and thought of what part of God's determinative and permissive will exactly had occurred in my life. (Twilight Zone music please!)

I debated what to do now. Do I send a sympathy card to the family? Or do I quietly allow the past to lay? I would send a card but really do not want their daughter to think of contacting me, as Dutchman has said, she is not exactly normal mentally anymore. And, I think I have enough problems of my own for now.....