As promised, here is the first chapter of my new book, Stronger: Trading Brokenness for Unbreakable Strength.

Thanks for reading along!

**

Chapter 1: When I Am Weak

This isn’t how it works in the movies.

On a chilly Sunday morning in December, David Works and his family—his wife, Marie, and daughters Stephanie, Laurie, Rachel, and Grace—finish worshipping at New Life Church in Colorado Springs.

As usual, they stay after the service to enjoy conversation with friends.

On their way to the exit, David announces that lunch will be at a nearby hamburger restaurant called Good Times. The members of the Works family pull their coats tighter and step into a brisk breeze, shuffling carefully across patches of snow in the parking lot.

As the family approaches its white Toyota Sienna van, Laurie heads for the left-side sliding door.

“No, no—you have to sit in the back on the other side,” Rachel says.

It is a Works family tradition that everyone keeps the same seat for both parts of a trip. Laurie rode to church in the rear right seat of the van, and Rachel intends to continue the custom.

“Okay, okay,” Laurie says.

She walks around the back of the van, enters through the right side sliding door, and takes her place in the back seat. Rachel, behind Laurie, pauses in front of the open right-side door to look for something in her purse.

That is when it starts.

David, sitting in the front passenger seat and in the process of buckling his seat belt, hears a sharp metallic sound. What was that? He lets go of the seat belt and swivels his head to the right, surveying the parking lot. To his shock, a young man dressed in black stands just twenty yards away. He’s pointing a large assault rifle at the Toyota.

What in the world?

Another shot rings out.

“Get down! Get down! There’s a shooter out there! He’s shooting at us!” David screams. He curls up in the van’s footwell, trying to get as low as possible. He hears the sound of more gunshots mixed with his family’s screams. The sound of the shots changes; David understands the shooter is on the move.

Wait a minute—where is Rachel?

She’d been just outside the van when the shooting started. David twists to look behind him. His sixteen-year-old daughter is still standing next to the Toyota, a dazed look on her face. Her burnt-orange T-shirt has a hole in it at the level of her lower-right rib cage.

“Rachel!” David cries.

“I think I’ve been shot,” Rachel says. Suddenly, she collapses, falling backward onto the blacktop.

David jerks his door handle and jumps out. The instant his feet hit the ground, another volley of bullets whiz past his head. He turns; the gunman is no more than ten yards away, rifle pointed directly at him. Before he can move, David feels pain on his right side, just above his waist. He too falls to the pavement. The shots continue.

“Gracie, get down and play dead! He’s still here!” David orders. His youngest daughter, eleven years old, had been moving from the backseat to help her sister.

The firing stops momentarily, then resumes, but the sound is more distant and muffled. David realizes the gunman has gone into the church.

David has been shot in the abdomen and groin. He stretches his arm in Rachel’s direction, willing his body to move. His daughter needs her father—her protector—yet David can’t even crawl. Through tears, he says, “I’m so sorry, honey. I can’t reach you.”

“That’s okay, Daddy,” Rachel whispers.

On this horrifying, heart wrenching day, David Works would give anything to turn into a Hollywood action hero. If this were a movie, he would be Superman, leaping in front of his daughter and watching bullets bounce harmlessly off his chest. With his super strength, he would pick up the van and fly his family to safety, then return to catch the bad guy before he could hurt anyone else.

But this isn’t a movie.

David Works has no super strength. He is lying in a church parking lot, weak, helpless, and bleeding, and watching the life ebb from his beloved daughter.

Panic Attacks

Let’s leave this traumatic scene for the moment and visit the mother of a different family. Lori Mangrum is a pastor’s wife. She and her husband, John, have two children. But Lori isn’t thinking about her family right now. She’s slumped in a chair at home. The curtains are drawn. For months, she hasn’t slept or eaten well.

Lori grew up in a Christian home and learned to smile and appear joyful no matter what was going on around her. Like any family, she and her parents and siblings had their share of troubles, but Lori didn’t want to burden her parents with her own fears and worries. She became the “sunshine” for her family, always working to cheer up others but rarely addressing her own emotional needs.

Years later, after marrying John, having kids, and moving to a new home, Lori started experiencing panic attacks. Without warning, feelings of terror overwhelmed her. She felt a crushing weight in her chest and became nauseous, dizzy, and disoriented. She thought she would die. The attacks increased to the point that Lori couldn’t drive a car or go into a grocery store.

One day, after a series of tests, a physician explained to Lori that she had a benign heart condition that could cause some of the symptoms of panic attacks. Finally! Lori thought. I knew they would find something!

But the doctor wasn’t finished.

“You have another problem,” he said gently. “I believe this problem manifested itself because of some psychological problems. I want you to see a psychiatrist.”

Lori couldn’t believe it. I don’t have any stress, she told herself, and what stress I do have I handle better than many others!

Now, sitting in the dark at home for week upon week, Lori is depressed. Friends have told her, “Pray harder, get yourself together, and stop this!” Yet she doesn’t even have the energy to talk, eat, or take a shower. Lori is disgusted with herself. She would give anything to change her circumstances, but emotionally, she feels weak and helpless.

Those Uncomfortable Feelings

You may never have faced a crazed gunman or dealt with debilitating depression, but I’m guessing that at some point in life—perhaps many times—you’ve experienced some of the same feelings that David Works and Lori Mangrum went through in the incidents described above.

Weak. Helpless. Useless. Vulnerable.

Some pretty uncomfortable feelings, right?

We all do our best to avoid situations that expose our failings and fragility. But whether it’s a life-or-death crisis or the challenge of simply getting through another day, sooner or later we each confront the undesired sense of being powerless, worthless, feeble, disabled, and dependent on others.

And we don’t like it.

Most of us, especially in America, grow up with the idea that we can shape our own destinies.

This, after all, is the land of opportunity. This is a place where dreams come true. We see ourselves as rugged individualists, fully capable of taking control of our lives and rising to the top.

And the weak? “Those people” are not us. Most of us profess to have empathy for the struggling and more helpless members of our society. But many of us are also conditioned to feel, deep down, a certain amount of disdain for the unfortunate few. You’re homeless? That’s too bad—but maybe you need to work harder at finding a job.

You’re depressed? Yeah, I get discouraged sometimes too—but enough of feeling sorry for yourself; it’s time to get yourself together.

Part of the problem is that the weak and helpless are all around us, and when we see others having problems, it reminds us that we’re vulnerable too. Some of us cope by closing our eyes and shutting our ears to troubles. I will confess that this can be my attitude at times.

But no matter how hard we try to ignore the trials of others, they rise to our attention like steam from a teapot. We think we’ve guarded our minds and hearts, and suddenly we’re faced with:

• The distraught mother who watches her teenage son storm out of the house in anger, not knowing what to say or do and wondering when or if she’ll see him again.

• The discouraged father of four who has lost his job, has been evicted from their home, and is so deeply in debt that he doesn’t see a way out.

• The terrified little girl who is sexually molested by her “uncle” when Mom isn’t home and is told to keep quiet about it “or else.”

• The lonely wife who thought she was marrying a soul mate and is desperate because she can’t get her husband to talk to her.

• The sullen fourth-grader who repeatedly gets teased and bullied by a sixth-grader on the way home from school.

• The worried single mom whose son is being recruited by a neighborhood gang.

• The shocked fifty-year-old who has just been diagnosed with terminal cancer.

• The young woman who feels paralyzed by depression and guilt over an abortion.

• The husband who can’t forgive himself for an affair.

• The despairing grandmother who is watching her children and grandchildren destroy their lives with alcohol and drugs, yet doesn’t know what to do about it.

It’s hard enough to put aside the struggles and weaknesses of family, friends, coworkers, and neighbors. It’s harder still when the hurting wife, husband, mother, father, little girl, young man, or grandmother is us.

Do you know what I’m talking about? Are there times when you feel utterly incapable of dealing with the skyscraper-sized obstacle in your path? When you wish you didn’t feel more helpless than a bug on your back? When you wish you were Superman or Wonder Woman instead of plain old pint-sized “me”?

If so, I understand at least some of what you’re experiencing.

One of my earliest memories, from when I was four years old, is of a man suddenly bursting through our front door one night as my brothers and sisters and I were watching TV. The man looked like a monster. His eyes were puffy, red, and glassy. His face was unshaven. He carried an oak-handled, ball-peen hammer in one hand and a jug of Gallo burgundy wine in the other.

The half man, half monster was my father, and he was looking for my mother. When he realized she wasn’t there, he roared, “This is what I’m going to do to your mother!” He swung the hammer and bashed a giant hole in the wall. I spent the rest of that night in my bedroom, cowering under a blanket, even after the police arrived and took my dad away.

Up to that point, I’d enjoyed a fairly typical childhood. I was more worried about missing favorite TV shows like Batman than whether I would make it to the age of five. But everything changed for me that night. Although I couldn’t have put it into words at the time, I suddenly learned just how vulnerable and helpless I really was.

It was a pretty awful feeling.

The feeling grew worse when my parents got divorced, Mom remarried, and we moved to an apartment complex in Compton, California. One night soon after, someone was murdered ten feet away from my ground-floor bedroom window. The rumor was that the killer used a shotgun. Knowing that only four inches of stucco and drywall separated me from whatever was out there left me distinctly scared.

I felt exposed. Defenseless. Weak.

The final blow occurred the next year. I understood that my mom was sick. She seemed to get more and more tired and eventually stayed in bed all the time. My stepfather, Hank, was so overprotective that he wouldn’t even let us kids talk to her. Weeks later, when my mom went to the hospital, I still just thought she was really sick. It never occurred to me that she might be dying.

When my brother Mike told me that Mom was dead, I was shocked. I squeezed Mike’s arm so hard that I left fingernail marks. In some strange way I felt that hanging onto Mike would keep me from losing my mother.

My dad was out of my life. My stepfather left the family the day of Mom’s funeral and had no real interest in or relationship with my siblings and me. My mother was gone. I felt completely alone—and more helpless than ever.

How I wished it could be different. I wanted something then that I simply did not possess. I wanted strength.

A Different Kind of Strength

Most of us admire strength in its many forms. We all want to be strong. But the word strong conjures up a variety of meanings and images in our minds. For some, it means sheer physical power. We might think of bulging muscles and the ability to handle the next bad guy who crosses our path. For others, strength is about having the persistence to do what we set out to do—such as taking the lead on a difficult project at work or potty training our children.

Some may think of strength of intellect—an ability to outsmart any person or problem. For still others, being strong means appearing immune to any irritations or challenges that threaten to disrupt daily life. Some like the idea of being emotionally detached, to embody a “James Bond” approach to life. Whatever comes up, we’ll take care of it, and we’ll do it with style.

Think of the figures portrayed so prominently in the media today: politicians such as our current president; technology gurus such as Bill Gates or Steve Jobs; athletes such as Peyton Manning or LeBron James; actors and actresses such as George Clooney or Nicole Kidman; media moguls such as Oprah Winfrey.

Each of these people possesses strengths that the public appreciates. It might be physical strength, emotional strength, talent, intellectual capacity, or influence, but the world admires these folks for what they have that the rest of us don’t. They seem to have it together.

They appear strong.

But I want to talk with you about an entirely different kind of strength. It’s a quality of strength that David Works and Lori Mangrum discovered. It is so powerful that it overshadows every other kind of strength, like a Himalayan mountain towering over a molehill. It wasn’t the strength that David and Lori were looking for in their moment of crisis, darkness, and greatest weakness. In some ways, it was the furthest thing from their minds. But it was exactly the strength they needed most.

I think it’s just what the rest of us need too.

We’re Going Through

In the instant after David Works was shot that December day in 2007, he realized he was in a situation that was beyond him. He didn’t have the power or strength to control the events around him.

He was helpless to protect himself or his family. So he turned to the only one left who did have the power and strength to change matters.

God, what’s going on here? he thought. This is crazy. We’re supposed to be a missionary family getting ready to go around the world for You. What’s this all about? It doesn’t make any sense.

David sensed an immediate answer. It wasn’t audible, but it left a deep impression on him nevertheless: We’re going THROUGH. We’re not going OVER or going AROUND this. We’re going THROUGH.

Most of us would be thrilled to receive a message from the Lord. Under the circumstances, however, that message wasn’t what David wanted to hear.

David survived the attack on his life that morning. His daughter Rachel and his oldest daughter, eighteen-year-old Stephanie, did not. Stephanie was struck by a bullet while sitting in one of the van’s middle seats. She died at the scene. Rachel died a few hours later at the same Colorado Springs hospital where David was treated. The gunman was a twenty-four-year-old who had also killed two people earlier that day at another ministry facility. Inside New Life Church, he’d been shot dead by a security guard before he could claim any more victims.

As the father of two boys, I can only imagine the physical and emotional anguish that David and his family endured in the hours, days, and weeks that followed the shooting and loss of two precious daughters and sisters. I can also imagine that they would have been tempted to curse God for what occurred that day, even to turn away from Him for apparently not intervening when they needed Him most. But that’s not what happened.

That first night, lying alone in a hospital bed, overwhelmed by shock and grief, David tried to make sense of the tragedy. He took it straight to God.

Lord, I don’t understand You at all right now. I don’t get it. How could we lose two kids in one day? You’re not making any sense. But somehow, I trust You in this situation. Obviously I don’t have any better ideas. I’m not going anywhere. I will stick with You, Lord, because You have the words of eternal life. I need You tonight more than ever.

From that humble beginning, David found a strength he didn’t know he had. After just nine days, he was discharged from the hospital. Gradually, and with persistent effort, he recovered from his physical wounds.

What is more incredible was David’s emotional and spiritual recovery. At times the grief and despair overwhelmed him; at one point he was out of control, thrashing, wailing, and sobbing until his voice was hoarse. Yet he was able to attend his daughters’ burial and memorial service, where he read the Twenty-third Psalm and thanked God for allowing him to heal quickly enough to be there.

A few days after Christmas, he addressed a crowd of 350 people and talked about how, through the nightmare of the previous three weeks, God had never left his family.

Most amazing was that when the New Life pastor asked if David and his family would like to meet with the parents of the gunman, they took a day to think about it, then agreed. And when they met, there was no hesitation. David stretched his arms out and encircled another grieving father and mother in a long embrace, followed by the hugs from the rest of his family. Through tears, he and his family repeated, “It’s okay. We forgive you.”

Lori Mangrum experienced her own amazing emotional and spiritual renewal. In the midst of her depression, she too turned to God. Though He seemed distant, she began reading Scripture with a new interest and curiosity. She read about the Lord’s relationships with sinful men and women and saw how He loved them despite their weaknesses.

One afternoon, while driving home from a session with a therapist, Lori cried out to God, “I can’t do this alone. It’s too hard. If You’re really there, then show me, and I will trust You!”

Lori sensed an answer in the stillness.

Trust Me first—then I will show you.

Starting with small steps, Lori began to relinquish control of her life to the Lord. She focused more on pleasing Him instead of everyone else. It helped her to say no to some requests—and to speak up when she felt upset, angry, hurt, or scared. She began sharing her fears and feelings with her husband. And when a panic attack did strike, she faced it head-on, reassuring herself that she didn’t have to cooperate with what her body was trying to tell her.

The grace and courage demonstrated by David Works and Lori Mangrum blows me away. Could I have faced and forgiven the parents of a man who murdered my children?

Honestly, I don’t know, and I don’t want to find out. Could I take the brave steps to surrender to the Lord and allow Him to lift me out of a disabling depression?

Again, I’m not sure, and I’d prefer not to take that test.

But am I attracted to what David and Lori have? You’d better believe it. Because what they have demonstrated is not simply physical, emotional, or intellectual strength. It’s something far deeper, far more powerful, and far more lasting.

Something spiritual.

Something holy.

David and Lori took the worst that life could throw at them.

Did it hurt? Of course. Did it bring them to their knees, both figuratively and literally? Yes. Did they find themselves utterly weak and helpless? Absolutely.

Yet somehow, through that weakness and their connection to a merciful God, David and Lori were transformed. They didn’t just survive. They didn’t just “get by.”

They got stronger.

That’s the kind of strength I want: a strength that never leaves, a strength that actually magnifies during the tough times, a strength that isn’t dependent on me but resides in a power that can’t be stopped.

How about you?

I don’t presume to have all the answers to life. But I know who does, and I know who provides the greatest strength of all. It is a strength that I believe is found and forged only through weakness.

It’s what the apostle Paul meant in his message to the members of the fledgling Corinthian church: “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Cor. 12:10).

Let’s talk about it.

Follow me on Twitter @DalyFocus

What parent wants to deliberately hold his or her child back?

According to an essay in this past Friday's Wall Street Journal, quite a few.

Writing on the Opinion page of the Weekend Journal, Bostonian Jennifer Graham points to a growing trend of parents who are deciding to keep their child back a year or two, for all kinds of reasons. Some do so because they think their children aren't quite ready, be it academically, emotionally or even athletically.

Ms. Graham writes:

...the practice of having a child repeat a grade or two - an act that used to be a shameful sign of failure - is now considered a smart move that gives your offspring an edge. Seventy-four percent of respondents on CafeMom.com, a parenting website, said they would consider holding a child back even if the school recommended promotion.

Of course, there are many good reasons why a child might be better off repeating a grade than jumping ahead. Children develop at different rates and are blessed with varying degrees of natural gifts. By the sheer reality (good or bad) of the calendar, some kids start kindergarten when they're barely 5, while others are already halfway toward 6. Nor are all homes created equal. Children who find themselves in a chaotic situation are probably going to be less prepared than a child who resides in a peaceful and fully functioning house.

But Graham suggests there might be a more sinister dynamic at play:

The offspring of the Baby Boomers and their insouciant descendents are not eager to don the mantle of adulthood, with its rude demands of maturity, flossing and alarm clock.

There's been growing talk lately about this, of kids who just want to stay kids, whether by delaying driving or setting up shop in their parent’s basement. But does this growing trend of parents deciding to voluntarily hold their children back have much to do with young adults resisting the leap into maturity?

Might Ms. Graham be erroneously conflating the two matters?  One is parent driven (holding a child back) while the other is young-adult centered (refusing to grow up!).

Given the many valid reasons parents might have a child repeat a grade, is it really fair to suggest these same students who are held back will become free-spirited twenty-somethings who mooch off mom and dad and still live at home, rent free?

That strikes me as something of a stretch.

Getting back to the heart of the matter, Jean and I haven't felt the need to hold either Trent or Troy back a year, but we can certainly appreciate why others have.

But, let me ask you. What are your thoughts on this issue? Is there wisdom in this idea of holding a child back in order to help him or her get ahead later on?

Have you ever done it with your kids? Why? Why not?

Follow me on Twitter @DalyFocus

The calendar still suggests summer, but in certain parts of the country, there is a touch of fall in the air.  Here in Colorado Springs, we had our first 40 degree night in months just yesterday.

There is another sign of the coming change: in our family, the boys have headed back to school. Trent is now in the 4^th grade and his younger brother, Troy, started 2^nd.

I am grateful, of course, to see our boys grow and mature. What father doesn’t count his blessings when he sees his sons shine?

But there is a tinge of sadness, too, though it’s a mostly selfish emotion.

As I’ve mentioned before in this space, there are a finite number of summers in every childhood. Although ours was marked by some job stress and an injury that left me hobbled and on crutches, there was still a magic and beauty to the months of June, July and early August. But now with the tick-tock of the clock, one of those precious few seasons has passed.

Call me a sentimental sap, but it’s always hard to see the boys transition back to class. I wonder if you feel this way, but sometimes I think our children change and mature more quickly outside of the school year. Is it because we see them more often?

Or might it be simply because they have more time to try new things outside the confines of the classroom?

I saw our boys grow in courage and tenacity these past weeks, especially from a week of fun and adventure at camp. They don’t seem to be the exact same boys as when we sat drinking milkshakes together on the last day of school in May.

Because they aren’t, of course.

But neither am I.

And neither are you.

When you’re a child, teachers often ask you to write about your summer vacation. And when you’re a kid, you tend to write about your time in terms of places you’ve gone and things you’ve seen. Some children write about camps and cookouts and capturing fireflies in old mayonnaise jars. Others write about movies and summer jobs.

This is a good exercise, but those are just facts and events. If I were a teacher, I’d ask my students to not just write about where they went and what they saw, but instead what they’ve learned – and how these summer months have changed them.

As for me, I didn’t just break my ankle this summer; I learned a great lesson to take life more slowly and appreciate the seemingly simple act of walking on two legs.

We didn’t just get stranded with a broken-down truck; I was reminded that kids care more about spending time with their dad than they care about where dad takes them.

I didn’t just lose my friend to sudden death; I was reminded again that there are no guarantees in life and to live as if each day were my last.

As parents, I think we would be wise to try to help our children see their time, whether in school or out, in terms of its impact and significance. It’s exciting and fun to go places and see people, but to what end do we do what we do?

I am reminded of a teacher who once tried to introduce her students to the art of story-telling.

“If I was to tell you,” she began, “that the King died and then the Queen died, well, that’s a mere sequence of events. But if I were to tell you that the King died – and the Queen died of grief, well, now THAT’S a story.”

Taken and processed as a mere sequence of events, life can be dull and boring, void of its magic and mystery. Yet, when we see it in terms of its drama, insight and adventure, life takes on a new perspective.

So, let me ask you:

How has this summer changed you and your family?

Follow me on Twitter @DalyFocus

My good friend and colleague, Bart Phillips, died last Thursday night.

He was buried yesterday under a warm and cloudless Colorado summer sky.

At just 41 years-old, Bart was in love with life. As husband to Suzi and father to three boys, ages 12, 9 and 8, he had a lot for which to be grateful.

His personal email even reflected one of his great passions; bringingupboys@_______.

When word came to me that Bart had collapsed inside his home on Thursday night and had been rushed to the ER, I joined several of Bart’s other close friends from Focus at the local hospital to pray. We arrived shortly before midnight and asked for a miracle. It didn't come. Instead, we found ourselves surrounding Suzi and pleading with the Lord to comfort and console.

No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main...any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

But you know what? Bart's real strength wasn't found in his legs or even in his love for his family. Although his love for his family was true and sincere. Bart’s strength was found in his deep and abiding love for his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He was never petty or self-consumed. He majored in the majors, was interesting and interested, and found his greatest satisfaction from telling people about the One who forever changed his life.

Bart Phillips was the personification of the great man, and I will miss him dearly. Please pray for his extended family, wife and three boys, won't you?

Follow me on Twitter @DalyFocus

The local newspaper usually reflects the heartbeat of the community.

Usually, though not always.

The Colorado Springs Gazette is our hometown publication.  They do a great job covering our area despite the fact they have a shrinking staff of writers. Last week, the libertarian minded editorial board officially endorsed same-sex marriage. The editors graciously offered me an opportunity to respond in this past Sunday's edition.

Here is the essay; I welcome your thoughts.

Marriage is as Much a Responsibility as a Fundamental Right

By Jim Daly

The Gazette’s recent endorsement of gay marriage makes the same mistakes on a number of issues that we’re accustomed to seeing from active proponents for the issue.

An Aug. 10 editorial noted the paper keeps “explaining repeatedly” to readers that “fundamental rights may not be submitted to a vote; they depend on the outcome of no election.” That’s generally true — to a point. Curiously, both The Gazette and the Proposition 8 judge, Vaughn Walker, imply that there are no (and can never be) democratically enacted restrictions on rights, but that’s just not so. The state puts restrictions on “rights” all the time — often with the blessing of the U.S. Supreme Court — that we might harmoniously live together as a society.

For example, the editorial ensnares itself when in saying that “marriage is a promise between two adults.” That’s two legal restrictions on the supposedly restriction-free right of marriage right there — an age minimum and a two-persons-only requirement. Ironically, those narrow (and wise) parameters came from lawmakers elected by the people.

Colorado and other states also prohibit marriages to a close relative and, yes, restrict marriage to one man and one woman.

All of those standards have been voted on by the people or their elected representatives.

When it comes to the value of marriage, we believe there’s a legitimate role for government and religion.

Religion recognizes marriages whether they begin in a church or at the courthouse. The state recognizes marriages, too — religious or otherwise.  The critical debate here isn’t between government or religion, as the Gazette posits; it’s about how we define marriage.

To be clear, government didn’t create marriage, but it does recognize and protect it. Why? Marriage offers a valuable resource to the state: stable homes for nurturing the next generation. Either there is value in children having a mother and a father or there is none, as Judge Walker’s ruling attempts to claim.

The government will either defend the right of children to have the best chance for a mom and a dad, or it won’t. Judge Walker’s decision ignores the critical matter of a child’s health and well-being and isolates the matter to an individual right. That intentional apathy toward children is not only short-sighted, but it also doesn’t stand up against mountains of evidence that finds children do best with both a mom and a dad in the home.

The Gazette’s view of the Walker ruling is also shortsighted in where it takes us, or perhaps, where is does not.

Wisdom dictates that we look beyond present-day circumstances and emotion. The stakes are too high; real-world issues including what our children learn in school and a parent’s choice to direct what his or her child is taught now hang in the balance.

Discussions of same-sex marriage are not limited to what two adults may desire to do, or even to adult conversations; the topic is slipping into public school curricula.

Do we really need to teach elementary schoolchildren the sexual orientation of historical figures when it has no bearing on their professional accomplishments?

Particularly when the view of a child’s parent is not taken into consideration, as was the case with the Wirthlin family in Massachusetts. They lost their court case to opt their elementary-age child out of a class teaching that same-sex relationships are the same as one-man and one-woman marriage. Their parental rights were lost in the process. The Wirthlin story was an influencing factor among California voters who supported Proposition 8 in 2008.

At the heart of the matter lies a fundamental, singular position: We believe that marriage should remain child-focused, rather than adult-centered. No other social institution offers a child one of the only claims he or she has at birth — the right to both the mother and father who made him or her. This perspective is a belief rooted in our faith and informed by an avalanche of social science.

Follow me on Twitter @DalyFocus

I last shared Dr. Gottman's six predictors of marital success and happiness. Here now are his top warning signs of coming marital strife:

1.  Harsh Start of Arguments

The partner who starts the argument is aggressive or hostile, is insulting, attacks his partner’s character, uses sarcasm, shows contempt or disgust—all of which lead to escalation or withdrawal.

2.  Criticism

Attacking character or traits, instead of addressing the problem specifically.

3.  Contempt

Disgust, disrespect, condescension, sarcasm, eye-rolling.

4.  Defensiveness

Trying to prove I’m not the problem—you’re the problem; justifying your behavior.

5.  Flooding

Gottman uses this term to describe the dramatic physiological changes (adrenaline pumping, increases in heart rate, blood pressure, respiration) that precede stonewalling by a partner. Flooding and stonewalling start to occur later in marriage, after years of Harsh Starts, Criticism, Contempt, and Defensiveness.

6.  Stonewalling

Withdrawing, silence, no eye contact, no response, blank facial expression, leaving, being physically or emotionally unreachable. Stonewalling’s immediate cause is Flooding. Stonewalling appears to be an attempt to reduce Flooding’s heavy bodily stress. For prehistoric, hunter-gatherer reasons, Gottman speculates, men are more susceptible to Flooding than women, so men are much more likely to Stonewall. And, as women are 80% more likely to bring up sticky marital issues than men, an important implication of this finding is that women, particularly, need to avoid Harsh Starts in order not to set up the dynamics that lead to Flooding and Stonewalling.

7.  Failed Repair Attempts

These are situations where attempts by one partner to repair damage and keep negativity from escalating out of control are ignored or otherwise meet with failure. Partner B doesn’t respond positively to Partner A’s attempts at apology, humor, or any other means of easing tensions.

**

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U.S. District Judge Vaughn Walker’s decision this past Wednesday nullifying the votes of 7 million Californians was, obviously, deeply troubling. The appeal process will be costly and lengthy, but those of us committed to marriage should be optimistic and hopeful. Our own analysts have carefully studied the ruling and fully expect the decision to be overturned upon appeal.

Nevertheless, you might be wondering why the Proposition 8 decision, an issue presumably only dealing with the state of California, should matter to every person in every state of the union.  To answer that question, I turn to my very good friend and a long-time board member of Focus on the Family, Dr. Al Mohler. Dr. Mohler is president of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. His optimism may be somewhat more guarded than mine, but his brilliance is without peer.

Why the Proposition 8 Decision Matters

Albert Mohler

The importance of the decision handed down by U. S. District Judge Vaughn R. Walker in California's Proposition 8 trial will be difficult to exaggerate. Proponents of same-sex marriage immediately declared a major victory—and for good reason. The editorial board of The New York Times declared the verdict "an instant landmark in American legal history," and so it is, even if later reversed upon appeal.

Judge Walker's decision is sweeping and comprehensive, basically affirming every argument and claim put forth by those demanding that California's Proposition 8 be declared unconstitutional. That proposition, affirmed by a clear majority of California voters, amended the state's constitution to define marriage as the union of a man and a woman. In one brazen act of judicial energy, California's voters were told that they had no right to define marriage, and thousands of years of human wisdom were discarded as irrational.

Even as the case is immediately appealed, the reality is that a Federal court has now declared that same-sex couples have a constitutional right to marry. Pressing beyond this verdict, Judge Walker also released a set of "findings" that include some of the most radical statements about marriage yet encountered.

In rendering his verdict, Judge Walker declared that California's Proposition 8 violates both the equal protection and due process rights of homosexual citizens. The proposition, he concluded, "fails to advance any rational basis in singling out gay men and lesbians for denial of a marriage license." He continued: "Indeed, the evidence shows Proposition 8 does nothing more than enshrine in the California constitution the notion that opposite-sex couples are superior to same-sex couples."

In order to reach this conclusion, Judge Walker provided more than 100 pages of legal reasoning, based on the evidence that he allowed or accepted. On page after page, Judge Walker arbitrarily accepted the claims put forth by proponents of same-sex marriage as rational, and declares the evidence and arguments put forth by the defenders of Proposition 8 as lacking in any rational basis.

The decision handed down Wednesday in San Francisco comes with virtually no surprise. Judge Walker's statements and rulings in the course of the trial proceedings pointed directly to the decision released yesterday.

This decision, whatever its final resolution, serves as an undeniable reminder of the power of Federal judges. A single unelected judge nullified the will of the voters of California as expressed through the electoral process. Those who have been arguing that judicial activism is a fiction will have to look this decision in the face. The New York Times celebrated Judge Walker's usurpation of the political process, arguing that "there are times when legal opinions help lead public opinions." The paper and the proponents of same-sex marriage clearly hope that this is one of those times.

That is clearly the most significant dimension of the verdict. Judge Walker's decision, bearing the full force of a Federal court, adds to the sense of inevitability that the proponents of same-sex marriage have been so carefully constructing in recent years.

Defenders of marriage as a heterosexual institution should resist the temptation to minimize the significance of this decision, even as the verdict is vigorously appealed. Yesterday's ruling is a huge win for the homosexual community, and a significant step toward the full normalization of homosexuality within the culture.

Anyone who reads Judge Walker's decision will see that the normalization of homosexuality was one of his major concerns. Any belief that heterosexual relations are morally superior to homosexual relations "is not a proper basis on which to legislate," he asserted. Proposition 8, he insisted, "was premised on the belief that same-sex couples simply are not as good as opposite-sex couples." The judge claimed to have "uncloaked" the real reason California's voters adopted Proposition 8—"a desire to advance the belief that opposite-sex couples are morally superior to same-sex couples."

The judge released enumerated "findings" within his decision. Among the most important—and startling—of these are the following:

"Religious beliefs that gay and lesbian relationships are sinful or inferior to heterosexual relationships harm gays and lesbians."

"Children do not need to be raised by a male parent and a female parent to be well-adjusted, and having both a male and a female parent does not increase the likelihood that a child will be well-adjusted."

"The gender of a child's parent is not a factor in the child's adjustment. The sexual orientation of an individual does not determine whether that individual can be a good parent."

"Same-sex couples are identical to opposite-sex couples in the characteristics relevant to the ability to form successful marital unions."

In a breathtaking and brief sentence, Judge Walker asserted:

"Gender no longer forms an essential part of marriage; marriage under law is a union of equals."

The religious liberty dimensions of the decision are momentous and deeply troubling. While Judge Walker declared that the religious freedoms of citizens and religious bodies were not violated because no such body is required to recognize or perform same-sex marriage, the very structure of his argument condemned religious and theological objections to homosexuality and same-sex marriage as both harmful and irrational.

Beyond this, Judge Walker claimed to read the minds of California's voters, arguing that the majority voted for Proposition 8 based on religious opposition to homosexuality, which he then rejected as an illegitimate state interest. In essence, this establishes secularism as the only acceptable basis for moral judgment on the part of voters. The judge's statements condemning religious opposition to homosexuality speak for themselves in terms of animus.

Judge Walker's decision will be appealed to the Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, also located in San Francisco—the most notoriously liberal appeals court in the nation. Inevitably, the case will be then appealed to the U.S. Supreme Court. The decision handed down by Judge Walker, especially as expressed in his findings, was clearly constructed with such appeals in mind.

Thousands of cases make their way through the Federal courts each year. Some are important, but only a few have lasting legal significance. Whatever happens on appeal, the decision handed down yesterday by Judge Vaughn R. Walker will reverberate for decades to come. Yesterday, a very important gavel fell on marriage. The central institution of human civilization suffered a direct hit, and its future hangs in the balance.

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It's a product of the fallen nature of man:

A recent case in point: A new "video conferencing" feature made exclusively for Apple's iPhone. It's called FaceTime. Here is how the company is promoting it:

People have been dreaming about video calling for decades. iPhone 4 makes it a reality. With the tap of a button, you can wave hello to your kids, share a smile from across the globe, or watch your best friend laugh at your stories — iPhone 4 to iPhone 4 over Wi-Fi. No other phone makes staying in touch this much fun.

Sounds innocent and heartwarming, yes?

Sadly, the "adult entertainment" industry has now seized on the technology. According to an Associated Press story:

Again, from the Associated Press:

Dr. Gerhard Schrader was a German chemist tasked with coming up with a new insecticide to help increase crop production. He accidentally discovered nerve agents like Sarin gas.

Do we ban, boycott, badger or bully the CEOs of the companies in question? Do we pack up and drop out of society?

I can rest in the sentiments expressed by the Old Testament patriarch Joseph, whose brothers sold him into slavery. Do you remember what he told them?

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