For whoever finds [Wisdom] finds life and receives favor from the LORD.  But whoever fails to find me harms himself; all who hate me love death (Proverbs 8:35-36).

I never liked Bobby.  He was never good enough for my sister.  But when he really started drinking, things became really unbearable.  He lost his job.  He yelled and threatened Felicia sometimes.  He made her life miserable -- and mine, by extension.  He was a washed-up, good-for-nothing, drunken fool; and no matter how many times I confronted him about it or tried to convince Felicia to leave him, nothing changed.  Felicia said that she loved him, that she could never leave him.

Well, when she came to my place on Thursday night with a swollen lip and a bruised left cheek, I knew that things were getting more serious by the day.  I asked "Did Bobby do this?"  And she could only nod and fall into a sobbing heap on the floor of my apartment.  I felt a surge of adrenaline.  I seethed with thoughts of what I would do to Bobby in repayment for what he had done to my sister.  Her future had once been so bright, but now everything was so dark.  Her life was in shambles.  And it was all because of this jerk-of-a-husband that was drinking their lives away.  "Where is he?"  I asked, with grit in my voice.

"Don't do anything to him!" Felicia pleaded.

"What do you mean, 'Don't do anything to him!'?!?" I exploded.  "How can you still be defending him?!?"

"He's my husband," she sobbed.  "I love him."

"Some kind of a husband that uses his wife for a punching bag!  Where is he, Felicia?"

She could give no answer.  Her body was wracked with heaving sobs.

"Where is he, Felicia?"  My tone softened.  "I'm not going to go beat him up or kill him.  But we probably should call the police.  This is getting totally out of hand."

"I know," said Felicia.

"And I just can't stand by and watch him do this to you.  He's destroying you."

Felicia looked up with a sudden clarity in her eyes.  "Is that what you think this is all about?  Do you think I'm going to go back there in his house after he's physically assaulted me?"  She looked disappointed in me.  "I know I can't go back there unless he gets some serious help.  But it's not about me."

I stammered, "But, I -- I thought you..."  I couldn't complete a thought.

"You're right that this is getting totally out of hand," Felicia said.  "But it's not me that he's destroying."  She touched her cheek with her fingers.  "This stuff will heal.  I'll get better," she said.  "But Bobby is destroying himself.  And that's so hard to watch.  I really do love him.  I really do care about him.  But he doesn't care enough about himself right now to get better."

I looked at my sister with new eyes.  "So that's what this is all about..."

"I love him," Felicia continued.  "But he doesn't love himself.  His stupid drinking isn't hurting me as much as it's hurting himself.  He loves his drinking more than he loves me.  More than he loves life itself.  And now he's forcing away the one person who was trying to stay in his corner.  He's chasing away everything good in his life and choosing death instead of life.  He's dying..." Her voice trailed off, and she fell back to weeping.

"Where is he, Felicia?" I asked again.