The Sunday Sermonette – Why I Dislike Mermaids.
Disney’s “The Little Mermaid” is the story of Ariel, who lives in Atlantica, a mythical kingdom far beneath the sea. Her dreams, though, foster a longing to discover the world above. One day, she rescues Eric, a handsome prince who fell overboard from his ship during a violent storm.
When this happens—in typical Disney fashion—her mermaid heart hopes her dreams will come true, and she and her prince will live happily ever after. And they do! However, my memories of mermaids conjure no such happy memories.
If you grew up in the 1950s, you may recall chalkware mermaids displayed in family bathrooms. I was with Mom when she bought ours at Biloxi’s Morgan and Lindsey Five and Dime Store. We arranged them on our bathroom wall, along with their bubbles. How cute they were…until.
I was a rambunctious child and very adept at finding trouble if it didn’t find me first. Mom’s sweet but stern voice would warn, “Andy, stop playing with that electric cord. You’ll get electrocuted.” When Dad arrived home from Kessler Field, I can still hear his stern voice saying, “Son! Stop riding your tricycle in the house! I’m not telling you again!”
Of course, I didn’t listen, and the cost of my disobedience earned me a trip to the family bathroom. Dad would sit and lay me across his lap. The last thing I saw, as I lowered my head just before he applied the bolo-board of education to my derriere, were the mermaids. Their smiles, now jeering, laughed at my distress. I’ve not cared for mermaids since.
Like my childhood punishment, God’s discipline hurts, but is sometimes needed to protect us or bring us back into the fold, so to speak. Scripture says, “For whom the LORD loves He disciplines, as a father the son in whom he delights.” (Proverbs 3:12). No child says, “Thanks for disciplining me.” Still, if correction is given in love, as we mature, we should see its purpose: not to destroy, but to train us and keep us from disaster.
In the Old Testament, Samson was a legend due to his mythical strength. But for all his physical prowess, which brought him great fame, Sampson had an undisciplined heart. As a child, he was dedicated to Father God to mature and deliver Israel from the hated Philistines. His strength was a gift from God, but because of his lifestyle, his strong body did not reflect a surrendered heart.
Samson developed a bad habit of gravitating toward all the wrong things. He ignored the Angel of the Lord, who warned him not to cut his hair, touch dead things, or drink wine or strong drink. He enjoyed dancing around the flame of temptation, too, especially with the temptress Delilah. And saddest of all, he mocked his calling.
When he finally succumbed to Delilah’s nagging—asking him what the source of his strength was—Sampson told her it was his hair, which had never been cut. The moment Sampson did this, Judges 16 states that Father God departed from him, taking his strength with Him. Then, the Philistines captured Sampson, gouged out his eyes, shackled him, and, to humiliate him, forced him to grind wheat while he was in prison.
Sampson’s disobedience brought on harsh discipline from Father God. But He was not through with Samson. Slowly his hair grew back, and God renewed his strength. In his brokenness, Samson prayed, and God heard his humble prayer for forgiveness. Remember what happened next?
Sampson was crushed when he pushed aside the massive columns that held high the Philistine temple of Dagon—thousands were killed. Samson’s final moments were shining examples of his renewed faith and God’s divine deliverance, but also the tragic consequences of a life marked by disobedience and self‑destruction.
Is Father God correcting you, as He has often done with me? Are you questioning why? Remember: an earthly parent who loves a child corrects that child. And our Heavenly Father who loves us corrects us, too. Your question should not be, “Father God! Why are you being so hard on me?” The better question is, “Father God, teach me what I need to learn, protect me from what I cannot see, and lead me back to where I belong.”
Long ago, those smiling mermaids taught me to listen when my parents corrected me, or I’d suffer the consequences. Sampson learned the hard way, as well. So, we, too, should receive the Lord’s discipline with humility before the consequences multiply.
Dear ones, let us not wait until we are blinded, bound, and grinding in the dark prison of our own choices. Stay alert to the evil around us. However, If you are already there, remember Samson—even in the dark place of discipline, his humble prayer still reached Heaven. And Father God responded.
Ponder this and go forth.
