Trust and . . . TIMBER!
Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the
Lord.
— Ephesians 5:22
There I was, Paula Bunyan, playing tug of war with a tree.
I held one end of the rope. The other was tied to a
magnificent 50-foot Austrian pine in our back yard.
The neighbors peeked out their windows and tsk-tsk'ed:
"We already knew she's crazy. But now she thinks she can pull down a tree
with her bare hands."
What they couldn't see was PAUL Bunyan, my husband, crouched
down low, doing a Nebraska Chain Saw Massacre on the trunk of that same tree.
The tree had blight, beetles, borers, fungus, sad sap and
bad bark.
It had to . . . leaf.
I was wondering whether I could trust my husband to cut it
down without killing us, whether he was mad at me that day and just how mad,
whether it was wise to make slanted cuts on not one but both sides of the
trunk, and whether it was a good idea for me to be standing out there like an
idiot, pulling a tree down on myself on purpose. Was I out of my tree, to trust
him this way?
But we were a team. I came. He sawed. Together, we would
conquer.
He said my job was to pull on the rope and try to influence
the direction of the tree's fall. He didn't want it to fall on our other trees.
He didn't want it to smash the neighbor's house. He didn't want it to fall on
the power lines and send a fireball into our house.
Oh. Fine. So he wanted it to fall . . . on ME?!?
Well . . . at least he was saving big bucks by taking the
tree down himself. Plus he got to play with his loudest toy: a Boy and His
Chain Saw.
So I went along with it. I try to be a supportive wife, as
long as the request is timely, legal and non-fattening. Yes, I submit to my
husband, all day, every day. No big deal.
Some say it's retro and foolish and, cruelest cut of all,
just like Donna Reed.
I say phooey. Read Ephesians 5:22, and onward. See? THEY
submit to US, too. It's not some nasty male dominance thing. People who say
that haven't read the Book.
The divine design for marriage is not a hierarchy; it's an
exchange. The power is reciprocal, back and forth.
The lines of command are a circle. That's not demeaning.
It's balanced. It's strong.
Trust is the trunk that marriage is built around. Without
this give-and-take, marriage is as futile as . . . well, trying to pull down a
50-foot pine tree with your bare hands.
Which reminds me:
The chain saw whined. There was a crack. Paul Bunyan
shouted, "TIMBERRRR!"
It was falling! Right toward me! Tons of solid wood, about
to part my hair, bigtime!
You know how in an emergency, cartoon characters run in
place for a few seconds, getting up traction, and you hear bongo drums, and
then they take off running? That was about to be me.
But then Paul Bunyan, this feller who is a feller of trees,
had the audacity to shout:
"RUN!"
Noooooo!!!!!
Duhhhhhhh!!!!!!
I glared at him, hands on hips, highly irritated:
"WHY on EARTH would you FEEL you HAVE to TELL me THAT?"
(It's hard to be, excuse the pun, sappily submissive ALL the
time.)
But after my "power moment," yes, I ran. I ran fast! Fast!
Fast! Fast! Bongo drums aplenty!
The tree fell —WHAM! — right where he'd planned for it to
fall, missing all the obstacles . . . including me.
Trust makes marriage fun. A marriage deeply rooted in trust
stands tall.
So, couples, pull together. Trust each other. Give each
other enough rope so that, if things come crashing down around you, you'll both
still stand. Love, honor, obey.
It's an old saw . . . but it cuts true. †
