Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Mark Driscoll in 2008 on the efforts he took to protect his wife

Sweet to My Taste
Part 2 of The Peasant Princess
Pastor Mark Driscoll | Song of Songs 1:8 - 2:7 | September 28, 2008
All right, I Peter 3 says that “Men should not be harsh with their wives.” If you are dating a man, ladies, and he’s harsh with you; yells at you; intimidates you; ever gets physically violent with you in any way; threatens physical violence, run for your life. He’s not a banner. He’s an enemy. The man you want to be with is the man you feel safest with, protected by, loved by: emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally, financially. He wants to protect me. Okay. You need to know, this is a huge part of my heart for men, and this is an enormous part of my relationship with Grace. I mean, I still remember, when I first started seeing her, she went off the college. I was still in high school, and they ran out of housing. So they put her in a guy’s dorm. I was like what?

So I got in the car and I drove to the university, and I knocked on all the doors of all the guys on her floor. “Hi, my name is Mark. I love this woman. Anyone touches her, talks to her, thinks about talking about touching her, I will beat them.” Literally, I threatened 20 guys, just knocked on every door. No way she’s gonna get messed with, no way. Later on she transferred to another university, WSU. She was five hours away, and she moved out there and her phone wasn’t hooked up yet, and we didn’t have cell phones. And I told her, “When you get there, go to a pay phone. Call me. Let me know you got there safe.” Well, she didn’t call. So I got in the car and I drove there. Five hours, the day I had to work, and I knocked on the door. She answered it, and I said, “Well, you didn’t call.” She says, “I forgot.” I said, “Are you okay?” She said, “I’m okay.”

I said, “Okay, good.” Got in the car and drove home — Just checking — 600 miles. Who cares? It’s Grace; doesn’t matter. Grace is worth 600 miles any day. Just make sure she’s all right. Walk her to the car. Look after her. Tend to her. Make sure she’s okay. The other day, we’re going on a walk. I’m always thinking about this stuff. She’s holding my hand. We go for a lot of family walks, and I said, “No, no, honey, I need you to hold my left hand.” She said, “Why?” I said, “Because this is the longest shoulder of the road and if somebody skips the curb and one of us gets hit by a car, it needs to be me.” Some of you are like, “I don’t like that theology of headship.” Here’s what it means. He gets hit by the car. That’s what it means. I walk closest to the street. If one of us is going to get run over, that’s my job. Husbands: love your wives.

You get hit by the car. That’s how it goes. That’s how it goes. Even when we sit in restaurants — maybe I’m freakish, maybe. I will always face the door so I see who’s coming and going and what’s going on, and I have her sit up against the wall, and I sit on the end, because if something goes down, I’m on it. And she’s gonna be all right. I’m that guy: always looking out. Make sure Grace is okay, even emotionally. People send her nasty emails, text messages, talk trash about me, leave the church and want to take parting shots at her. She has nothing to do with any of it. So I’ve even put a white blacklist on her e-mail, and some people can e-mail her and the rest come to me. Delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete. So that she doesn’t have to feel bad, because people are taking shots at her. That’s my girl. No shots. That’s the rule. Okay?