Unsolicited Marital Advice

 Several months ago I was asked to prepare some remarks for a young man who was about to get married to a young woman who I have known for years. We had gathered for a huge meal and afterwards several men in this all-male affair were tasked with dispensing marital advice to the groom. Well I found this the other day and decided to dust it off in preparation for the big event in the Dunnevant family coming up in 60 short days. Any of my married friends out there who have additional insights that I can add to this list, feel free to make suggestions. Please, no cracks about how much trouble Jon is going to have dealing with so opinionated a father-in-law, since he already knows that!

“ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.”

                                                                 1 Corinthians 13:5

 

Congratulations on your upcoming wedding, _________.  Since I just celebrated my 29th wedding anniversary, I feel at least partially qualified to dispense marriage advice, primarily…marry the right woman. It certainly worked for me.

But even if you do marry the right woman, it is no guarantee of success, just as your mutual faith in Christ is no guarantee. Pam and I joined Grove Avenue 26 years ago and immediately got involved in a fabulous Sunday school class of young married couples. These were 15 of the most devoted Christian couples we had ever known, committed not only to each other, but to the church as well. 26 years later, 7 of the 15 are divorced. I share this with you as proof that what you are about to embark upon will be the hardest thing you ever do, but done right will enrich your life in amazing ways.

I have prepared a list of suggestions for your consideration. These are principles that Pam and I have found extraordinarily helpful in our 29 years together. Now, just because something appears on this list doesn’t mean that I am always in full compliance. It just means that when I am, things go very well. Some days are better than others.

1.     Have a short memory. The verse I quoted above might be the single best verse in the Bible for married couples. “Keep no record of wrongs” is simply golden advice. If I had written this letter to the Corinthians I would have added, “ while you’re at it, keep no record of ANYTHING”. Being married isn’t about keeping score. You don’t do nice things for her so you will earn something nice in return. There is no marriage bank into which you make deposits, no safe deposit box that contains brownie points. You do nice things for her because you love her. Period.

2.     The quality of your married life will rise and fall in direct relationship to how well you’re able to banish selfishness from your life.

3.     You can either be “right” or you can be “happy”, but seldom at the same time. Winning an argument with your wife is never truly winning.

4.      Never criticize your wife in public, even and especially in jest. Trust me young man, there are home wreckers out there, yes even at your church, who are listening to every word you say, waiting for an opportunity.

5.     Even though God calls you to be the leader of your home, listen to your wife, and value her council. She is so much smarter than you in so many areas, it’s not even funny. Don’t be a stubborn jerk, listen and obey.

6.     Never stop going out on dates.

7.     When children come, pay special attention to #6. You married your wife, not your children.

8.     Don’t become predictable. Surprise her with gifts, flowers, cards, racy love letters, inappropriate e-mails etc. Take charge of the romantic planning in your relationship. Guard against boredom.

9.     Do all the vacuuming, always clean the bathrooms, and always do the dishes after dinner. That way when she tells her friends that she has never vacuumed, cleaned a bathroom, or done dishes after dinner in all the time she’s been married, they will all tell her what you’ve been telling her forever, that you’re a GOD!!

10. Anything worth having in this life is worth fighting for. Your marriage is worth your very best effort. Take nothing for granted.

 

Pam and I wish you and __________ all the best.

 

Doug

My Son Turned 24

My youngest child turned 24 over the weekend, a sobering mathematical fact, which makes it increasingly difficult to claim that I am still in my forties. Actually, I’m not one of those guys who lies about his age. Whenever anyone asks me, I proudly proclaim the truth of my 55 years, since they have been hard earned and come with big benefits, chief among them, a head full of memories. Some of my best ones involve my Son.

We knew there was something strange about Patrick, when he walked out of his first Disney movie talking about nothing but the musical score. Before he was 12 he had demonstrated untaught skill in every musical instrument we ever placed in his hands. The first choir he was a member of was directed by my sister, The Praise Kids, and from her he learned that music was our gift to God, not to mention more fun than a barrel of monkeys. By the time he was introduced to Sherri Matthews at Godwin high school, it was all over and there was to be no turning back. Patrick was a musician, and that was that. He blazed through Belmont University and now Westminster Choir College, doing what he loves, making music and trying to figure out a way to get paid doing it.

But, on the occasion of his 24^th birthday, I would like to brag on his non-musical gifts. Patrick has managed to develop in an industry famous for huge egos, without much of one. He has never felt intimidated by others with great talent, in fact, they inspire him. Patrick simply loves good music, regardless of who is making it. I have never heard him say a bad word about any of his classmates, never heard him denigrate anyone’s talent or lack thereof, an amazing gift.

The thing I’m most proud of in my boy is his ability to think for himself. Patrick will never be bullied into group-think. He thinks things through and comes to his own conclusions about difficult problems. He doesn’t believe a certain way just because his father does. He thinks. He researches things, listens to others and makes his own informed judgment. Sometimes we agree, sometimes we don’t, but I’m always proud of how he arrives at his views, through careful thought, without lazy reliance on  dogma. When his views aren’t popular, he has the courage to defend them. A father can’t ask for much more than that.

Patrick isn’t perfect. He is an unrepentant slob, maddeningly unorganized, and thinks that undershirts are appropriate attire for practically any occasion. But he’s 24 and still very much a work in progress. My son is a freakishly talented human being with a huge heart and boundless capacity for love and loyalty. Can’t wait to see what becomes of him.

My Missionary Friends

Over the past ten years or so, it has been my good fortune to meet and become friends with many missionaries. These are people who served for years in foreign lands, having children and raising them all over the world from Thailand to Zimbabwe. After a fifteen-twenty year run, they have retired into the administrative end of the business here in Richmond at the International Mission Board. Through this happy accident of geography, many of them have joined our church and provided us with much needed injections of legitimate righteousness over the years. As a bonus, I had the privilege of getting to know their kids when I worked in the Youth department of our church.

These ex-missionaries have formed a unique community. All of them, all of their families seem connected. Although they served in different countries and none of them are related by blood, the bond of their shared mission has turned them all into an extended family. Their children refer to all of the men and women as “aunts” and “uncles”. It’s really quite charming and enviable. Because Pam and I have become close friends with many of them we often get invited to social events and get-togethers, and they are always great fun, although Pam and I often joke that we feel like the token heathens. The reason I say that is that when it comes to the business end of the Gospel, ie, the actual spreading of it, these people have been front line troupes; they are all grizzled veterans in the work of evangelism and have made huge sacrifices to bring the message of Christ to hurting people. Around them I feel like a civilian, one of those annoying guys sitting in his padded pew on Sunday, writing the occasional check, but never actually doing anything dangerous or important. Listening to their war stories, as inspiring as they are, always reminds me of how cushy and uninspired my spiritual life has been.

One of their neat traditions concerns a ritual of sorts that occurs when one of their sons is about to get married. All of the men get together at someone’s house. There’s a big cookout with steaks and chicken, and all manner of delicious food, all prepared by the men. There are no women around. After dinner, everyone gets together in the living room. Each man takes turns saying a few words to the prospective groom. Much of it is typical guy stuff, complete with gag gifts, and terrible advice, lots of laughter and teasing. But then each man is expected to offer a word of scripture and some serious words about the awesome responsibility of being a husband and father. The words of advice must be in writing so they can be given to the groom to keep. I’ve been invited to another such event this week. This time, the groom will be in Atlanta, and our advice will be broadcast to him via Skype.

I always leave these events feeling that surely this is how the body of Christ was designed to work. The bond and commitment between brothers and sisters in Christ should be every bit as strong and serious as the ones in our own families. If this was actually how churches worked, there would be lines forming at the doors every Sunday morning.

Give Me A Break!!!

Friday morning at 9:30 am, President Obama made the long walk across the White House lawn to the Presidential helicopter. He was headed to Annapolis Maryland to give a speech to the National Defense University, and he was alone. A lone marine stood at the base of the helicopter steps in his impeccable dress blue uniform, and as the President got close, snapped off a perfectly executed salute. The President rushed past him without returning the salute and continued up the steps and into Marine One. Realizing the lapse in protocol, The President hurried back down the steps, shook the marine’s hand and engaged in a brief conversation.

The above event became headline news when a pool reporter sent out a dismissive tweet. Then it popped up on the Drudge Report. The breathless banner declared, “Obama Fails To Salute Marine”. Soon CNN ran with the story of the President’s ghastly protocol breech, as if it carried with it some sinister subtext.

Give me a freaking break!

The morons at CNN probably hadn’t noticed, but the President was probably quite distracted Friday, what with his administration hip-deep in three ethics scandals. That he might walk past a saluting marine or two in the midst of perhaps the most disastrous week of his presidency would come as a surprise to practically no one …except the news media.

Immediately after the story broke, the internet erupted with instant analysis from a million political observers, dressed in pajamas and living in their parents’ basements, who offered this incident as irrefutable proof that Obama is a military-hating communist. And this, my fellow Americans is what is wrong with our politics. People with whom we disagree politically cannot simply be mistaken; they must be demon possessed swine. I can’t take it anymore.

President Obama doesn’t hate the military. Even Bill Clinton, who famously wrote that he “loathed the military” as a stupid college student, didn’t hate the military. No President in the history of this Republic has hated the military. In fact, every President we have ever had has lost sleep worrying about the military, mourning their losses in battle. The national archives are full of angst-filled photographs of our Presidents agonizing over such losses. None of us have ever known what it’s like to order young men and women into harms’ way, and to be held responsible for their deaths. It is the most awesome power on earth, and the heaviest burden. I refuse to accuse my President of hating the military, and I have lost all patience with those who do. He walked past that marine because he was lost in thought, and as soon as he realized his mistake he made it right, end of story. Shame on the reporter who sought to create a story by tweeting about it, shame on Drudge for printing it, and shame on CNN for running it on television. Morons!

The Weiner Campaign,

Now that Anthony Weiner, the awkwardly-named former congressman, has declared his intentions to run for mayor of New York, joke writers in Hollywood have been seen dancing in the streets. Even I, your fearless blogger, couldn’t resist getting in on the fun yesterday with several headline suggestions for this morning’s New York Times, the best of which was…ELECTILE DYSFUNCTION.

But on a serious note, Weiner’s candidacy won’t exactly go down as one of democracy’s finer moments. It says something depressing about our culture when someone caught sending photographs of his manhood to young women, not his wife, then lying about it, would imagine himself fit for the honor of leading one of America’s greatest cities. Then again, it IS New York. Imagine the death blow that this sort of thing would have been to a Ronald Reagan, or Jimmy Carter? Try to imagine Franklin Roosevelt running for President after something like this?

I suppose that this slippery slope was greased by Bubba Clinton and the blue dress. That Bill Clinton, a mere 15 years after receiving oral sex from a 21 year old intern in the Oval Office would win an award for father-of-the-year, stands as testimony to the American people’s capacity for forgiveness. But in Weiner’s case, it’s only been a couple of years. But, it IS New York. Still, what does it say about the size of Weiner’s massive... er...ego that he would think himself so terribly indispensable, so valuable a public talent, that even fondling himself on the internet isn’t enough of a personal failing to keep him from public office. Somewhere, old Wilbur Mills is turning over in his grave. You remember Wilbur, right? He was the powerful Democratic congressman from Arkansas( what’s the deal with Arkansas?), chairman of the Ways and Means committee, who was caught cavorting with an Argentine stripper named Fannie Foxe, who upon being pulled over by a cop for drunk driving, jumped into the tidal pool, leaving poor Wilbur alone behind the wheel. It was quite the scandal at the time, eventually forcing Wilbur from office and into AA. Today, this sort of thing would be a resume enhancement. I miss politicians with names like “Wilbur”.

So, the Weiner campaign will be fun to watch, summer entertainment, as it were. I will try to resist double-entendre-ing you to death between now and November, but not today…..

After yesterday’s Facebook fun at Mr. Weiner’s expense, I received an e-mail from an old friend of mine who lives in New York. He’s actually working with the Weiner campaign, and was very upset with my posts. My friend, Dick Johnson, wrote to remind me that the congressman has already made a pubic apology. He has put the thing behind him, and has every intention of becoming the next mayor of New York. He plans to make an aggressive push to penetrate the female demographic. One of his themes will be reform of the penal code. Although Weiner has the fighting personality of a boxer, he has no brief against the legitimate back and forth of politics; however, he will refuse to answer questions about his personal life, determined as he is to prevent things getting… out of hand.

The Silver Lining of This Dark Cloud

They say that every dark cloud has a silver lining, and after watching the big shots at the IRS testifying before Congress yesterday, I’m starting to believe it.

As a small business owner I live in fear and trembling of only one thing, an IRS audit. I pay my taxes, file my returns on time, and pay my accountant lots of money to make sure it’s done right. So on paper, I have nothing to fear. Yet, I still fear the IRS for one simple reason; they have the power to destroy me, and my ability to fight back is extremely limited. Despite the best efforts of my highly paid accountant, the chances that I am in full and complete compliance with our 74,000 page tax code are slim if not impossible. Eventually, my number will come up, and I will be hauled in front of the most powerful agency of the federal government where I will be considered guilty until I prove my innocence.

But, after watching the three stooges yesterday, Douglas Shulman, Lois Lerner, and J. Russell George, I have been greatly relieved. Using their testimony as a guide, I now have much less reason to fear an audit. I have taken extensive notes from their testimonies and if I’m ever audited, I’ll know exactly what to say. It might go something like this:

 

Soulless IRS Apparatchik:  Mr. Dunnevant, do you know why you’ve been asked to appear here today?

Me: Yes, I believe that you guys want to audit my 2010 tax return.

Soulless IRS Apparatchik: Actually we already have. It’s actually quite impressive, 24 pages long, all the appropriate schedules attached. Unfortunately, you neglected to properly account for the carried interest multiplier on your accelerated depreciation form for the month of February, and I’m afraid that will prove to be an extremely costly mistake.

Me: Well, let me be the first to publically apologize to the IRS for my accountant’s error. I am truly sorry.

Soulless IRS Apparatchik: I’m afraid you can’t simply blame this on your accountant. How do we know that this wasn’t your idea to avoid paying your fair share, and not some accounting error?

Me: Well, there’s no way you’ll ever know, because…I can’t recall. Again, sorry about that.

Soulless IRS Apparatchik: Wait a minute, according to our records, you met with your accountant no less than 13 times in the months leading up to the filing deadline. Do you expect me to believe that in all those meetings this issue never came up?

Me: Look, just because I met with Carl 13 times doesn’t mean we talked about taxes.

Soulless IRS Apparatchik: What DID you talk about…with an accountant…who does your taxes??

Me: Mostly just about every day stuff, how are the wife and kids, the weather, the Red Sox bull pen…

Soulless IRS Apparatchik: Mr. Dunnevant, I find that very hard to believe.

Me: I know, right?!

Soulless IRS Apparatchik: Mr. Dunnevant, defrauding the United States Treasury is a very serious offense.

Me: And I am really, really bummed about it, so once again…I’m sorry.

Soulless IRS Apparatchik: I’m afraid that an apology isn’t good enough, we will need more information.

Me: Well, you’re not gonna get it, because I can’t remember anything, and even though I didn’t do anything wrong or break any laws, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to invoke my 5^th amendment right against self-incrimination and respectfully decline to answer any of your questions.

Soulless IRS Apparatchik: In that case, I have no choice but to drop the audit against you. You are free to go.

Me: Saweeet!

Where Is God In Moore, Oklahoma?

“ If you are waiting for the federal government to help it’s going to be a while, but the Baptist men will get it done tomorrow.”

                                                                              Brian Williams, NBC news

 

I so want for this quote to be true. I ran across it on Facebook this morning. Several of my friends reporting that Mr. Williams had said it while reporting from Moore, OK. I have not been able to find a clip to confirm it, so I’m just going to hope that it’s true. Too many times in my life I have seen terrible human tragedies followed up by some Christian leader saying something idiotic about God’s judgment on homosexuals, or some such thing. Now, to see a group of thirty local churches rushing to the scene of such devastation with meals and comfort, to see men and women of faith volunteering their time, money and resources to minister to the hurting, and to see that effort acknowledged by the national media might be something close to a miracle in its own right. Yesterday I followed the activities of my friend and former youth pastor Jeremy Welborn, who now lives in Oklahoma, as he and his son went into a devastated community to offer whatever help they could provide to the hurting. To now learn that they were just two of many who had rallied to give comfort, and that so many of the helpers were men and women of faith is a huge comfort and encouragement to me.

Ultimately, the rebuilding of Moore will require some level of government assistance and support, which after all is one of the legitimate functions of centralized governments, but long before the machinery of government even gets cranked up, it will be the good people of Oklahoma, believers and unbelievers alike who will save the day. That Baptist organizations and volunteers are playing so visible and valuable a roll is gratifying, and has helped restore some of my confidence in the institutional church.

Where is God in Oklahoma? He is covered with mud and sweat carrying bags of sandwiches and serving up hot coffee among the rubble that used to be Moore, that’s where.