Two Easters
By Bob Steinkamp
Copyright © 2011 Rejoice Marriage Ministries, Inc. All Rights Reserved. Republication without written permission is strictly prohibited.
For more information about Rejoice Marriage Ministries, please visit:
https://www.rejoiceministries.org
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"Another beautiful day in South Florida. It's 78 degrees here at your Spring break station. Now back to more oldies from the sixties and seventies," the voice coming from Tom's car radio crooned. Tom Allison was stuck in a traffic jam, but he really didn't mind. He was on A1A, the road that parallels the Fort Lauderdale beach. The afternoon sun pouring into the opened top of his motionless convertible was beating hot on Tom's balding head, but he barely noticed.
With an oldies tune playing in the background, Tom watched the beach and thought about the first time that he had driven that same stretch of AIA. It had been about that same time of year, over 30 years before. He had come to Fort Lauderdale with a car full of guys during spring break from Xavier College. Tom smiled as he recalled all the mischief they had been involved in. That wicked vacation was still the topic of conversation at every college reunion back in Cincinnati.
Life had been good to Tom, until several months ago. After graduation from college, Tom had married Betty Appleton, whom he had dated throughout most of their college days. They settled in Cincinnati. His career as a stock broker had seen its ups and downs during the past three decades. The first few years had been mostly down, but he and Betty were in love and determined to make their marriage work.
Two years after they were married, Brad, their first son was born. Tom and Betty agreed that she should give up her job as the manager of Blooming Flowers by Bud and stay home to raise their son. Tom had taken a night job as a musician across the river from Cincinnati in a Newport, Kentucky night club to supplement his brokerage commissions.
"I never thought that my hobby of playing the saxophone would put food on the table," he had joked more than once, while at the club. Actually, the saxophone had been more than a hobby for Tom. His parents had paid for his lessons during his junior high school years. Tom had played in the marching band at Seven Hills High School and had gone to college on a partial scholarship in music.
It was during those night club days that Tom was re-introduced to drinking and to drugs. It was also during those days, a quarter century ago, that Tom was introduced, by satan himself, to being unfaithful to Betty. "My wife has changed since the kid was born. Besides, what does a fling once in a while hurt?" he had once remarked to Todd, the drummer in that band, while boasting about a new conquest.
"What does it hurt?" Our friend Tom Allison was opening doors to the enemy that would bring down his marriage. Granted, sin is fun for a season, but 25 years later Tom would realize who his party life was hurting: His God, His wife, and his family.
"Blasted construction!" Why do they have to do road construction on A1A during spring break?" Tom asked himself. He glanced at a woman on the beach who reminded him of a woman that he had been observing at the church that he had been attending for the past two weeks. "Wonder how that gal at church would look in a bathing suit?" he mused.
Tom had made that journey, not from Fort Lauderdale to Cincinnati, but from a married man a faithful wife and two sons, Brad, now 27, and Brett, age 20, to one of the number of people who call themselves "single", even though our Lord God calls them "married."
A year before, Betty had discovered what she had long suspected: her husband was unfaithful. After a few weeks of counseling, and many meaningless apologies, Betty had asked Tom to leave their home.
Tom had mixed reactions to that final confrontation. On one hand, he appreciated their comfortable home and knew that he would miss it. On the other, Betty was handing him the freedom for which long he had sought, or at least he thought. Tom could not understand why everyone, including his two sons were making such a big deal out of his leaving home. Tom was unable to understand the "big deal" because he had been blinded by satan, who was trying to destroy the Allison family.
Within two months, acting on the advice of her friends, Betty had filed for divorce, citing adultery. Even her pastor had told her that, "You have to protect yourself. Besides leopards don't change their spots, and Tom will never change. Once adultery hits a marriage, even a good marriage, it's all over. God has someone better for you, or this would never have happened."
"Guilty as charged," Tom replied with a grin, while sitting in his attorney's office, listening to Betty's divorce petition being read to him. "Don't give her a thing. Let's make her twist a bit."
A few months later, it was Tom doing the twisting. Their divorce case had been assigned to a female judge with a reputation for being tough on unfaithful husbands. Tom had survived two days in court, but most of his and Betty's possessions did not. By the end of that second day, the marriage of Tom and Betty Allison had ended, at least by the world's standards. According to the standards of heaven, they were just as married to each other, in a covenant marriage, as they had ever been.
After he moved out, Tom roomed with first one friend and then another. Yes, he had some good time, with his buddies from the band, but he was miserable. Being divorced did not bring him all the happiness that he had anticipated.
"There's more to this divorce thing than having to do your own laundry," Tom told a friend, half-joking, but mostly serious. "I would not want Betty to know it, but I am miserable."
During those first months, reconciliation crossed Tom's mind more than once. Each time, he would stop by their home under the pretense of picking up something. It was strange for Tom to be knocking at the door of their own home, but that was Betty's demand. Each visit would end in a shouting match between the couple, although neither was able to recall afterward what had triggered the confrontation.
Tom was not the only one suffering. Betty hurt very deeply, but did not know what to do about it. "Something's just not right about being divorced and alone", she once confided in their pastor.
"That's because you are not adjusting," Reverend Bosworth replied. "You are a prime candidate for our divorce recovery class. We need to get you over this thing and healed so that you will be ready for Mr. Right when he comes along."
Pastor Bosworth was right. There was a "Mr. Right" for Betty Allison that God intended for her to spend the rest of her life with. She did indeed need to get ready for him. Her "Mr. Right" was named Tom Allison.
Tom and Betty were not the only ones hurt because of their divorce. Their young adult sons, Brad and Brett, also suffered deeply. Brad had been dating the same girl for several years, and they had been discussing marriage. Brett had stopped dating since his parent's divorce.
There were others damaged because of that divorce as well. They were Tom's clients at the brokerage firm where he worked. He had made several major mistakes that had cost both clients and the firm money. Finally it was suggested to Tom that he seek other employment.
Tom responded to an ad in a business journal for a salesman at a boat manufacturing company in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. After several phone calls were exchanged, he was invited to come down the following weekend for an interview. From the onset, Tom's anticipated career change was being mis-represented to his friends and to Betty. The "boats" he anticipated selling, became "yachts." "We will have someone pick you up at the airport if you come down," became "They are flying me to Fort Lauderdale for an interview." "We are looking seriously at several other applicants," became "They are dying to get me." "Straight commission," became "More money than I've ever made in my life."
The weekend of Tom's interview, his plane had not even landed when Tom knew that he had to have that job. His plane landed at Fort Lauderdale Inte
rnational Airport heading west, providing Tom a breathtaking view of the beach and Port Everglades with its many cruise ships waiting to sail. The blue seas, white beaches, and clear skies were quite a contrast to what he had left from only hours before in Cincinnati.
Tom had been offered a job that weekend, selling boats from a Federal Highway location. A week later, sloshing through Cincinnati's February snow, He loaded his car and headed south. Tom's foremost desire was that the hurt that he continued to feel every day would go away after he moved away from Cincinnati.
Late that evening, tired from a day