“There is a way which seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.”
Just the other day, I watched the movie, “Something Borrowed.” Basically, it was a story about a bride-to-be whose best friend and maid of honor has an affair with her fiancé. In the end, the fiancé calls off the wedding, and presumably lives happily ever after with the friend. And the audience is supposed to be thrilled at this outcome, seemingly based on a couple of factors. First, the fiancé and the friend are perfect for each other; everyone can see it. They’re also in love—in fact, they’ve been in love since before the bride ever came into the picture. And then there’s the fact that the bride is shallow, self-centered, self-absorbed, entitled, conceited, and unfaithful. It makes it easy for us to sympathize and rationalize.
You know, I heard that the movie was based on a “beloved novel.” And I think I know why it’s so beloved. It’s because it gives us a sense of permission to follow our hearts, to do whatever feels good, because it will all work out in the end. But it occurs to me that the plot represents a perfect storm—where a rare combination of circumstances, each of which is highly unlikely, all converge to create the scenario described.
Let me put it another way. I will sometimes hear a comedian tell an outlandish story and pause in the middle to add, “You can’t make this stuff up!” Well, in this case, it would be more like, “You can only make this stuff up.” Notice the movie was based on a novel—a story conceived of in the imagination of the author. It wasn’t based on a true story; it wasn’t even inspired by actual events. If it had been, it would have started out something like this, “In the spring of the year, when kings normally go out to war, David … stayed behind in Jerusalem.” You can read the rest of the story in 2 Samuel 11:1 (if you don’t already know it by heart), but here are a few highlights: greed, lust, rape, adultery, conspiracy, murder, heartache, and grief.
Satan is the father of lies. He will do anything to sell you the fantasy. But, beloved, don’t buy it. Don’t even borrow it. You’re worth so much more than that.