Actually, it is not working at all. The good times are few and far between, either a rock or a hard place. Gabriel now gives me assignments to challenge my ability. We are running a relay race. He hands me the baton, I run the circuit, and hand off back to him. Then lays the baton down and goes out to mow the infield.
Everyone is under submission. I have only recently learned what submission is from a gracious woman in church. Ms. Esther’s function was to put a dinner together for our church group. She chose the menu. She chose who would prepare what, assigning me the task of cooking a turkey with all the trimmings. Well, that’s not hard, I like to cook. Ms. Esther let each of us know we had authority over our individual tasks, she had authority over the group as a whole, Pastor Leon had authority over her, and God had authority over Pastor Leon. All were required to do our best for God. This had nothing to do with domination or who would get the credit for what. Everyone worked, as a unit, to the glory of God. Turns out submission is taking authority, accepting responsibility for your role in a master plan.
This is what I brought to Gabriel. But Gabriel didn’t want submission. He wanted domination. I respected him. He wanted fear. I adored him. He wanted worship. I gave priority to his needs. He wanted sacrifice. All in the name of love.
I do love Gabriel, but he has no idea what this means. Emotionally bullied by his mother, Louisa, all he knows is domination, bullying his way through the world. He has tried money, sex, emotional abandonment, and the threat of physical violence, in his effort to force me to succumb to his will. Love is a gentle force; flowing like a river it can carve a mountain into a small smooth stone. Love is the tool I gave him. Gabriel wants to use a hammer. At his age, I think he should know better. My opinion does not count. The truth remains.
He claims I am obsessed, but I remember. I remember opting to submit in love.
