Max arrives at May’s house about 5 minutes early because, well, that’s what he does. He’s an old military man that prides himself on being punctual (the old “hurry up and wait” comes to mind). He marches right up to the door to greet his high school girlfriend, notices a few butterflies in his belly, shrugs them off, and readies himself.
Before he rings the doorbell, he attempts to look at his reflection in the sliver of window that frames the door. “Darn it,” he whispers aloud, and thinks to himself, “I’ll have to ask May to use the bathroom so I can check myself in the mirror.” That’s settled.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
May whips open the door and pulls Max into the biggest hug he’s had in years. His heart melts on the spot. What was he worried about? This is May, after all. They once knew each other like the back of their hands. Maybe this reunion will end well after all. “We’ll see”, he thinks as he releases her and steps back, “Let me take a look at you, May!”
In Max’s eyes, she’s just as pretty as she always was. Sure, she’s 20 years older, but her age has translated into beauty. As they say, the eyes are the gateway to the soul, and May’s eyes are gleaming.
Without delay, Max says, “Hey, it was a long drive, and I had too many cups of coffee along the way. May I use your bathroom?”
“Sure! It’s down the hall on the right.”
Max thinks, “Great, I can check myself in the mirror, finally! May’s even more beautiful than I remember her. She’s like a fine wine. Maybe I’ll get a sip before the night is through.”
The only problem is that, to Max’s dismay, he can’t locate a single mirror, not even in the bathroom. How strange.
Max takes May to a nice Italian restaurant near where they both grew up. He remembers it was May’s favorite back in the day. He’s hoping the nostalgia will give him an edge this evening.
“Oh, you remembered!!! You’re the best! You always knew how to spoil me.” May laughs out loud and covers her mouth coyly, hoping she hasn’t overstepped or set wrong expectations.
“Of course, my dear May!” Max’s confidence is surging.
After the usual catching up, Max is compelled to ask May about the lack of mirrors in her house. He even admits to making up the story about the coffee just to find a mirror. A strange look betraying discomfort flashes across her face and she says, “I hate mirrors. I only have a small one in my bedroom out of necessity.”
Max’s confusion is obvious to May and his eyes are asking, “Why?” So, May tells him bluntly, with some level of comfort now that they’ve settled into an intimate rapport built on old memories and affections, “I don’t like the way I look. I’m ashamed of myself. Mirrors make me remember the ugly things about me.”
Max is floored. “You’re stunning, May!”
“Please, let’s change the subject for now, OK? I promise to explain more later…it’s a long story and I’m only about halfway through it with my therapist!” She tries to cover her discomfort with a forced giggle. Noticing the welling up of tears in her eyes, he nods his head compassionately.
May says, “Let’s talk about you, Max! Do you still go to the same church?”
It’s Max’s face this time betraying discomfort, as he just had a falling out with his pastor. He still can’t believe the nerve of that guy, calling him out like that. Who does he think he is, anyway, God? Max gets lost in his thoughts for a moment and May suspects there’s something brewing under the surface, a mixture of anger and hurt. It’s written all over his face. He also hasn’t looked her in the eye since she asked about his church. She decides to allow her own compassion to surface, so she presses a little more.
“What’s the matter, Max? You look upset. Talk to me.”
Max explodes, right there in the restaurant. It’s a scene May will never forget. It comes out of nowhere, like a hurricane of emotion, pent up torment, and vitriol. She wonders what on Earth could be behind it. They both think simultaneously to themselves, “This is what regret looks like.” It’s too late, Max cannot be contained, even though the restaurant has gone silent and all have begun staring, starting with the tables closest to them and rippling outward.
“That church and that pastor are garbage. In fact, I have decided that going to church is a waste of time!” May is confounded, speechless (a rare occurrence for her). Max continues his tirade, “That pastor had the nerve to call me up right before I left tonight to pick you up and ask me about my intentions toward you. I mean, the gall, right? What’s it to him, anyway? And get this, he tells me ‘Max, you’re married to Bethany, you should be trying to reconcile with her, not looking for her replacement’. I told him, ‘I can’t stand her anymore. It’s like living with a witch, I tell ya!’ He replied, ‘Have you looked in the mirror lately, Max?’ So I told him, ‘I don’t have time for this…I have a date to get to. Besides, it’s none of your business,’ and then I hung up on him before he could respond.” By this time, May is shocked and confused by whatever Max had in mind for this evening.
“For the record, Max, this isn’t a date. First, I don’t date the way most women do, since it’s unbiblical. Second, I’d never date you knowing you’re still married. Third, I bring my Bible everywhere I go and it just so happens that my pastor recently finished teaching a series, American Dating Is a Counterfeit. I’d like to share a few passages of Holy Scripture with you before we depart and leave these nice folks in peace. I mean, they paid good money to be here and don’t deserve this kind of disruption.”
Max grumbles, desperately holding on to any thread of hope there is for salvaging the evening.
“Here’s some food for thought, Max…and thank you for hearing me out. I care about you, you know, so please take this from a place of love.”
May reads the following passages from her pocket Bible right there in the restaurant over their untouched deserts.
Let marriage be held in honor among all, and let the marriage bed be undefiled, for God will judge the sexually immoral and adulterous.
– Hebrews 13:4
Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands.
Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.
In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself.
For no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ does the church, because we are members of his body. “Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh.” This mystery is profound, and I am saying that it refers to Christ and the church. However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.
– Ephesians 5:22-33
May looks up at Max and says, “My dear old friend, you asked me about why I don’t have mirrors in my house. I will ask you the same now – why are there no mirrors in your house? It seems to me that your pastor, a man I happen to know and respect, was being a good friend to you tonight. You should be thanking him instead of sitting here with aberrant intentions towards our future together. Our future is friendship, nothing more. I’m your sister in Christ, not your future wife. Your wife is still alive – go love your bride as Christ loves His.”
Before May closes her Bible, she reads the following passage to the dumbfounded man whose dashed hopes now paint his face a clear shade of red:
Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God. Therefore put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls. But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves.
For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing.
– James 1:19-25
“Go home to your wife, Max, and hug your kids, too. I forgive you, my dear brother. We all fail. Oh, and go hug your pastor after that – I’m sure he could use the encouragement right about now.”
With that, she walked out.
Love in Christ,
Ed Collins