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Standing in the sand up to my ankles, I couldn’t help but glance at the gentle waves rolling toward my shoes as the tide moved in. It was an extremely hot and sticky night in August 1970. The breeze off the ocean was unable to ease the nervous perspiration running down my arm, into my hand, making my grip on my 38 Smith and Wesson revolver difficult.
Before me, stood two men and one woman who were totally inebriated. Each of them had splatters of blood mixed with sweat running down their faces, inflicted by fingernails and a small buck knife held by one of the men who was holding it at the neck of the other man.
The man with the knife was threatening to cut the other mans throat. He had already inflicted numerous small cuts on his face and arms so I was very concerned that he would follow through with his threats. The woman slumped to the sand sobbing and begging the man with the knife to stop it and let the other man go.
It was hard to get any coherent information from any of the parties because of their intoxication. Piecing together what I could, I ascertained that the woman and the victim, who had the knife pressed deeply at his throat, were caught by the woman’s husband; the man with the knife. He found them lying on a blanket in a passionate embrace, leaving nothing to the imagination. Seems the woman’s neighbor ratted her out to her husband as to her infidelity and the husband followed her that night.
The husband had slapped his adulterous wife around and attacked her lover with the knife and was about to end it when I drove over the sand dune in my police jeep. I almost ran over them. No one was supposed to be in this deserted area along the vast stretches of the beachfront. I had been driving the dunes for fun, you know, playing Rat Patrol. Pushing my four-wheel jeep to the max, springing off the crest of the dunes and bounding into the air. Of course, this was good practice. You never knew when you would have to chase some crook through the dunes.
Well, what to do? I had encountered like situations before in my career, only the names changed to protect the guilty.
I talked…and talked, till the man dropped the knife and fell to the sand. Actually, he was so drunk that he just passed out while I was talking.
The next day, after the husband sobered up, I asked him why he tried to kill the man and not his wife, who had been unfaithful to him. He said he had been insulted by his wife, but enraged by the man. He could stand being insulted, but he couldn’t stand being humiliated. He felt the man humiliated him by knowing his wife physically.
Needless to say, he served two years in jail for the assault and he and his wife divorced. The wounded man, who was in the military service, was shipped out of state after the trial.
I had been insulted many times as a cop, but I never knew this kind of insult till I began to comprehend this man’s motive. He was able to forgive his wife for her insult to him, but he couldn’t deal with the knowledge that some other man had violated his wife’s body. It gave him a murderous mind and all he could think about was revenge.
Today, I look back on that situation and wonder what God must feel like when we commit adultery, (unfaithfulness), against Him. If He were like this husband, surely He would have a murderous mind and wipe us all out. Thankfully God is not easily insulted; He is slow to anger; His mercy endures forever.
I believe one of the worst things that could happen to a husband and wife is the willful act of giving your body over to the lust of the flesh and sharing that, which was joined together as one, with another. Surely God must feel the same way.
Don’t take what was intended for God and give it to the world. God said in Ezekiel 21:28, "And you, son of man, prophesy and say, 'This is what the Sovereign LORD says about the Ammonites and their insults: " 'A sword, a sword, drawn for the slaughter, polished to consume and to flash like lightning! (NIV)
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