Oases Of Sanity

That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.

Psalm 1:3

THANKS TO THE HOSPITALITY OF THE HAWTHORNE GOSPEL CHURCH IN Hawthorne, New Jersey, Lisa and I got to spend two days in New York City without the kids. Since we had already visited the city with our children, we were able to do more “grown-up” things. Lisa wanted to find some “funky shops”; we thought we should take in a Broadway or off-Broadway play and eat at some exotic ethnic restaurants.

Even though I’ve been to New York several times, it’s hard to get used to Times Square, particularly at night. There’s a desperate grab for your attention, and the tacky commercialism hits you from all directions. At night, eighty-foot video advertisements shine on buildings, gigantic billboards light up, and 3-D sculptures hawk the latest cell phones and cars. Then there are the eccentric people, such as the colorfully dressed religious groups passing out literature, or the “Naked Cowboy”—a guy who wears barely legal briefs, covered by his guitar, and charges you to have your picture taken with him (we politely declined).

We attended two plays, one of which at the time was considered to be the best and biggest play on Broadway. Everybody we talked to said, “If you’re going to see only one play, you need to see this one.” We saw it—and we felt shocked at its raunchiness. As people filed out of the theater, raving over the performance, we thought we were living in a world where everything had been turned upside down. “Are we really that out of touch?” we asked each other.

But then, on our way to Central Park, we passed David Wilkerson’s Times Square Church. Something almost monumental happened in my soul at the sight of that otherwise nondescript building. I took a huge spiritual breath, as though I’d been holding it for days and only now had permission to let it out. This relatively simple church provided a physical reminder of a different life, a different purpose, a deeper calling—a quiet oasis in a noisy city. We didn’t go in (it was a Saturday), but it was uplifting just to be reminded of the reality this church represents.

It struck me that, spiritually, we live in the middle of Times Square. Movies, books, music, advertisements, magazines (even if you don’t read them, you see the covers in the grocery stores), and television all carry various messages about sex, marriage, dating, and family life. It’s like a daily assault on our spiritual senses. If we don’t seek out oases of sanity, we can become buried by the world’s conflicting messages.

If we don’t seek out oases of sanity, we can become buried by the world’s conflicting messages.

I pray that Devotions for a Sacred Marriage has been one of those oases for you—because we need many. If we don’t consciously remind ourselves of the spiritual purpose of marriage, the Christian’s duty to be God-centered in marriage, the greater good of marriage, and God’s design for marriage, we’ll soon get buried by the world’s caricatures, advertisements, and lies. We’ll begin asking of our marriage what God didn’t design it to give, while discounting those aspects of marriage that God does intend but that the world doesn’t value.

Though you’ve reached the end of this year of devotions, I hope it’s just one vacation among many you’ll take in the future. I hope you continue to find materials that inspire you to remain devoted to each other as an expression of your love for God.

I hope you’ll also influence others, reminding them of the goodness of marriage as God designed it—the way that holiness serves a family better than any illicit excitement ever invented by the devil; the way that a proper spiritual perspective can turn even the trials of marriage into sweet opportunities for growth. For not only do we need the Times Square churches to point us back to real life; we can become Times Square churches in our own communities. Each godly marriage can be an oasis for those who have forgotten what marriage is supposed to look like.

With great challenges come great rewards; that’s what I’d tell a couple contemplating marriage. You’re about to be challenged as you’ve never been challenged before, but the struggle is worth it. The pain is worth it.