“find a new wife, then!!” i shouted. it hurts to type the words. it’s embarassing, and besides, it brings up that gut-sinking feeling all-too-quickly. the one that comes from feeling betrayed. from feeling unloved.
we joked during our courtship, after we knew we were going to marry each other. “till death do us part, even if i have to kill you!” we’d both been through broken marriages as kids, the victims of a parental choice to part ways. one of us lived through being used as a weapon against one parent by another. we knew we never wanted to live through that desolation, and we certainly didn’t want our some-day-kids to live through it. yet here we stood, fists clenched, each feeling desperate and angry and defensive, and the scars on our own hearts threatened to infest the hearts of our precious children, not far outside the door of the room in which we waged our verbal war.
truth be told, in my marriage, i’m more the talker. over the years, he’s let me rant until he can’t take it another second and then let fly with his own darts, sharp and well-aimed. i’m quick on my feet and come out fighting, but somewhere along the way i’ll duck and run, defeated by my own quick burst of energy and fearful of being deserted, backtracking to avoid an unwanted conclusion and receiving instead a sense of desperate alone-ness; of hunger for resolution. on a good day, my knight would pursue me into the forest of my own confusion and work out the truth and reconciliation despite my kicking and screaming. on a bad day, he’d throw up his hands and let me go, and days of silence and loneliness would follow.
i hear that same sense of isolated resignation in the voice of a woman i love as she flatly states her sense of survival has kicked in, her tone devoid of even a sigh. she’s hardened her heart and she’s working on locking it up even tighter, convinced there’s no hope and she will never feel loved and valued. and the truth is, without intervention, there is no hope. no matter how i try, and no matter how much she longs, for something better, there are always people involved. they will fail. i will fail… you will fail. inevitably, your self-preservation or your past voices will kick in and you’ll punch and flail and demand what you deserve or the one you love will.
but hear this:
there is One who loves you more than life. He made you, and He wants to romance you, heart and soul, and somehow in some mixed-up crazy way, He will use the very brokenness that has shattered you to mold you stronger and more beautiful than you can imagine. He is the God of Hope. He is father, son, and spirit, and He will waltz in and snag your dreams and enlarge them and somehow, as you let go, He gives you way more than you ever longed for, more than you imagined possible, more than you’ve demanded, time and again.
can you hear Him? He’s whispering your name.
i’m speaking bold, friend. i’m speaking to me, too. much love and many hugs…