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When we were in Junior High School, we were assigned to read one exciting American short story that, at its climax, had the protagonist faced with a truly frightening choice.
He was forced to choose between opening one door or the other. Behind one door stood a beautiful lady, waiting specially for him. Behind the other door, pacing back and forth, with deadly feline ferocity, and ravenously hungry for his once a day meal was …. the tiger!
The amazing part of our own young, naive expectation was that we actually believed that only one of the choices was truly dangerous for the man, who was the subject of the story, and the object of the deadly dilemma.
Of course, as we identified with the man, we wished for him to certainly select the door with the lady, and….
And what, really?
Because frankly, knowing what we know today, as long as the man held in his possession a worthy weapon that he definitely knew how to wield, the safest selection might actually be the door behind which lurked the tiger.
Only one thing to do: Kill it. Finish. That`s all she wrote! And go on about his life.
Behind the other door, separating the beautiful lady from the man, could either be the best friend who would become his wife, or the destiny killer who could thwart or even destroy his precious life!
In very recent history, the same names seemed to resurface in the shameful undressing of one of the world`s biggest sports superheroes before the full glare of global spotlights. Then, another tiger subjected his family and all who cherish covenant marriage to the unfolding saga of “ sexual addiction”, a new clinical name for an old and filthy affliction.
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