Daly Focus Blog
Some people believe the definition of marriage should be anything we want it to be. No exclusions. No boundaries.
The problem with that idea is the fabric of reality itself. Marriage was created to function within a particular design because it’s powerful – so powerful that we need guardrails to channel its influence.
To understand what I mean, consider the design of electrical cords on most of the lamps, TVs, and small appliances in your home.
My dad left our family when I was five years old and died an alcoholic a few years later. My mom died when I was nine. Hank, my stepdad, walked out on my siblings and me the day of her funeral. After that, I lived with a foster family for a year, but they were so toxic that my life got worse, not better.
Given my broken childhood, hosting a nationally syndicated radio show about all things family has been an unexpected gift to me.
According to the National Association of Anorexia and Associated Disorders, someone will die from an eating disorder every 52 minutes.
One in five women experience an eating disorder by age 40, and 95% of eating disorders begin before age 25.
Those shocking number underscore the serious nature of this tragic problem. Eating disorders are complex issues with no quick solutions, affecting men, women, and children.
Author Krista Dunham developed an eating disorder after struggling with perfectionism for years.
Jack Canfield, the co-author of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, says comparing yourself to other people is a “fast track to unhappiness.” Comparison distorts our vision. One moment, we see all that we have – the next, we see all that we wish we had.
When our focus is directed outward, we think everybody else has more money, better homes, and nicer cars. We think they’re smarter, more talented, and better looking – or they have happier marriages and better-adjusted children.
Respect, humility and courage – foundational to a happy, healthy society – have been diminished in our culture.
My wife and I aimed to instill those values in our boys, Trent and Troy, by enrolling them in Cotillion, an etiquette class that prepares children to interact with each other with manners as mature young men and women.
The boys were apprehensive, but I assured them, “Don’t worry, guys. They’ll mostly teach you table manners.” Boy, was I wrong.
Let me ask you three questions.
First, if God said to you, “I will answer every single prayer that you pray this week,” how many people in your life would you pray to receive Jesus?
Second question: Are you praying for them now?
Christians often grow weary of praying for someone – or give up entirely – because nothing seems to be happening.
Which leads me to my third question: What if, as we pray for others, God does something in us?
My childhood was tough. My mom died when I was nine years old. My stepdad walked out on my siblings and me the day of her funeral. After that, I spent almost two years in foster care. When I think back on those days now, I have to search through the darkness to find bright spots.
One of them was when I was 11 years old. My dad and I shared an afternoon I’ll never forget.
When Jean and I were dating, I made a big mistake. I served her tea.
That may not sound like such a big deal to you, but I was wooing this girl. I wanted to marry her. On this particular occasion, however, everything nearly fell apart. I went all out. I packed a full picnic lunch, complete with a basket full of food, a blanket to sit on, and iced tea. I thought everything was perfect.
And it would have been, except she doesn’t like iced tea.
Each year, about six million women in the United States become pregnant. Of those pregnancies, nearly half – 45 percent – are unplanned.
Most of the time, teenagers are the focus of such conversation, but many married adult women with children are surprised by unexpected pregnancies as well. They watch their youngest child enter elementary school, or their oldest graduate from high school, then discover they’re pregnant and starting over at stage one. They feel shocked, exhausted, and embarrassed.
When my boys learned how to drive, I don’t mind saying I was nervous about it. I knew they’d do fine, but my wife, Jean and I talked through our expectations before we ever handed over a set of keys. From one parent to another, here are a few things that might make sense to you, too.
Teens usually think their driver’s license is all the permission they need to hit the road. But driving ought to be a privilege they earn instead of an absolute right.
Jim Daly is a husband, father and President of Focus on the Family and host of its National Radio Hall of Fame broadcast. His blog, Daly Focus, is full of timely commentary and wisdom designed to help you navigate and understand today’s culture. His latest book is Marriage Done Right.
