Pleading the Fifth

A weird sense of deja vu swept over me as I sat on the sofa between my mom and dad tonight. There I was, with bible resting on my lap waiting for the service to start while my parents, with their cool composure and the rare word exchanged between them, gazed passively in front. Their eyes hardly met.

You could have shot me, but the scenario was exactly the same one fateful day back in 1998. The location was different, so was the furniture and circumstances... but the level of dysfunction was the same - my parents were in the midst of an uneasy truce which had characterised most of their married life (at least as much as this kid could recall) as they were seated together waiting for an evangelistic dinner to begin.

That night my parents gave their lives to Jesus.

Today, almost a decade later, they were still unable to let go of the major parts of their differences that had plagued their marriage. Sad, but true.

Tonight as we sat on the sofa and listened to the sermon, my dad and mom responded. Pretty much the same way as they did 9 years ago. They seemed to have taken positively to the teaching on sin, forgiveness and letting go of past hurts and tresspasses. They went out for prayer.

The cynic in me would dismiss this as another passing flight of fancy on my parents' part, but the hopeless optimist inside still wants to hang on to the little shred of hope there. I believe God has an active plan and purpose for people like my parents - aged 70, stubborn, opinionated and quite impossible to talk to sometimes.

We shall see.

On my part, I just have to remember, remember and remember the Fifth Commandment - honour your father and mother that you may live long in the land your Lord God had given you.

OK, ok, ok.