My daughter is getting married. When she showed me her engagement ring, I would love to tell you, I was jumping for joy in excitement. But the truth is… I wasn’t.
In fact, when I heard of the proposal, I got tears of sadness. This wasn’t the man I envisioned for my daughter. Their dating history wasn’t favorable in my eyes and he was rude and disrespectful to me in my own home to the point where we became those parents who closed the door and locked it with a dozen deadbolts.
When we finally unlocked all the deadbolts and welcomed this young man back into our home, my husband was approached with the question of “Do I have your permission to marry your daughter?” He was caught off guard. This wasn’t something we were expecting. This was a huge step for this young man. He was asking for our daughter’s hand in marriage, taking that leap of faith, knowing he was not favored in our eyes but yet followed through with the courage to do so.
Permission? I think about that question a lot. My in-laws didn’t have permission, so they ran off and eloped. They’ve been married for almost 50 years now, love each other dearly, and I’m sure the lack of permission still holds a bit of a grudge in the family. I also think about how my mother would have given my ex-boyfriend permission to marry me. She didn’t know the insides of our relationship. He was a drug addict, abusive and had a lot of issues. He would not have been a good choice for me, but I already knew that. I believe that the Holy Spirit tells us what our answer is. Deep down we know what the right answer is. The hard part is choosing whether or not we accept what the Holy Spirit told us.
My husband could have instantly said “No.” However, being more level-headed than I (Shh don’t tell him I said that), he didn’t go that route. He didn’t want them to run off or have hard feelings with a decision based on our emotions.
Therefore while talking with him, he explained what the requirement would be in order for him to have his permission.