we breathe in
and choke on the words
caught in our throats
and choke on the words
caught in our throats
we bleed out
and watch our energy drip away
there is more than enough
to inspire love in our dull minds
yet here we are
staring blankly at each other
we are stirring up a whirlwind
we are breaking apart
we are gasping for air
we are teetering on the edge
and the edge is calling
so grab my heart
and pull me back
wipe the wind from my eyes
and my tears from the air
and my tears from the air
catch me or i'll fly
and the beauty will be lost
the bridge will snap
we will fall asleep
and forget to dream
and forget to dream
we are pretending
to not notice
to not notice
so, notice
and i promise
i wont leave the ground
I can't even tell you how many times I have felt the ground sagging and splintering beneath me. My marriage has been rolling around on a frail foundation since day one.
Clearly, we were imperfect human beings drawn to one another and desperate to belong somewhere. We were filled with love for one another and beautiful ideas of what marriage would look like.
We talked endlessly.
We planned relentlessly.
We even prayed with a determined singleness of heart!
We were SO unprepared.
We had a very unique beginning.
Our story is dramatic and powerful. It is moving and crushing at the same time.
He was my best friend for 6 years. I loved him deeply... passionately... completely. But not romantically.
I witnessed every crush, every relationship... even his engagement (and the devastating ENDING of his engagement) to another woman. We worked at the same job in highschool. We worked in the same ministries. We prayed. We climbed mountains. We made promises.
He watched my heart weaving in and out of abusive relationships. He held me when I cried. He ate dinner at my house more often than not. He rode around in my very old lincoln towncar with me. He listened to my secrets and my fears. He stood like a faithful sentry at my bed in the ER. He slept on my floor the night after I tried to kill myself.
He became a part of my family. He was as familiar and as faithful as my own brothers.
But it wasn't until he was crushed, hopeless and broken that I truly saw him.
My heart still jumps at the memory of who he was.
I clearly remember the strangeness... even the sweetness... of being so drawn to him.
I had never felt so alive. I had never felt so full of adventure and strength.
And I had never had so much to lose.
Somehow we entered into marriage with the idea that ministry was immensely important. We jumped right in. He took a job as a youth pastor for a new church. We moved 30 minutes away from everyone we knew.
Let's throw in hormones. I was pregnant. Insanely pregnant.
The kind of pregnant that makes grown men shudder.
I yelled. I cried. I locked doors. I came up with arguments that still confuse me. I slept anywhere but in my own bed. I didn't want to be touched for almost my entire pregnancy.
I was home alone all day, in a very bad part of town, cleaning, doing laundry, watching tv and crying.
I didn't see my family... or my friends. I didn't even really talk on the phone.
All this time I felt so much pressure to "be" something. My husband was the youth pastor. He poured his life into these kids... and still worked his full time job.
I was drowning. And I had no way of voicing it.
When my daughter was born I crawled into my little cave, with my little baby, and slammed the door shut.
There were times when I attempted to be the "wife" I was supposed to be, but, mostly, I just wanted to be left alone.
The more time that passed, the more I lost control.
I was constantly aware of how invisible I was to my husband. I spent almost all of my time obsessing over my home or my daughter.
I became fearful.
At night I would check the locks and the windows 3-4 times; I would pray the same prayers over and over again - word for word.
I got up to check on Aravis throughout the night.
I don't think I slept through the night for an entire year.
I hated myself.
I hated my life.
I cried constantly.
And I felt guilty for it.
Weren't we doing what we were supposed to be doing? Wasn't this what EVERYONE ELSE was doing?
How come I was the only one hating it?
One day he came home and I said the most honest thing I have ever said.
"I hate you."
He didn't even seem surprised.
I told him to quit one of his jobs or I would leave him.
He did.
Mercifully, it was the ministry job.
And then we moved our little family into my parent's house for a year and a half with a clear calling from God...
No ministry for at least a year. Nothing. Our family was our ministry.
To be honest, we didn't even go to church for about 7 months. And even after that, it was maybe once a month.
It felt GOOD. Really, really good.
I am so aware that our friends thought we had lost our minds. They didn't approve. Why would they? Isn't "ministry" what it is all about?
We learned a new kind of ministry. One that filled us, instead of draining us. One that encouraged us, instead of ripping us apart. One that, biblically, made a whole lot of sense.
We lived life. We made every effort to love God and to love people. And we never, ever put a ministry, a church, or even another person before each other. We played with our daughter. We talked. We connected... probably for the first time in our marriage.
It was a very sweet season. It was a short season.
IN that season, God encouraged me. He built up a mountain of hope and love in me.
And when life came crashing to a halt again, I could hear his faithful whisper, "I WILL sustain you."
We are daily recovering from sin and flesh. We are almost always battling to stay married. We are confronted with truth and selfishness everyday.
There are times when my feet want to leave the ground; I am so wounded and afraid, that I just want to fall off the edge of our marriage and see what happens.
There are times when I am invisible, desperate, ignored.
There are times when I am left questioning who this man is. Who did I marry?
In THOSE times, I lean on the firm, clear whisper that has kept me from imploding.
"I WILL sustain you."
"I WILL sustain you."
There are also times when I remember why I married my husband.
There are times when I feel alive and noticed.
There are times when I feel free from the weight of my fear and insecurity.
There are times when I feel connected and full of hope.
In THOSE times I am certain that I can clearly see the fulfillment of that promise.
God HAS sustained me. God HAS come into the tangled mess of my marriage and begun the slow work of bringing order and life to the chaos that we, as tired human beings, have unknowingly created.
Isn't that hope?
Expectation that something miraculous will bloom out of the dirty and selfish mess we have made.
6 comments:
We are a broken mess when we marry aren't we? Does anybody get married whole? I mean as whole as you can get in the very fallen world? I just have to wonder if all marriages start out broken to begin with and that it is part of God's redemptive work to have his way with us. If we can see it that way, we have no regrets and can look forward to what is to come.
i love you. THIS coming from the most broken, fragile place you have ever been... you are a beautiful peice of God-work.
Can we consider that maybe we are whole women when we marry. In marriage the two become one. Maybe in this process we are broken into little puzzle pieces, along with our husbands to form a new picture, a new life, a new reality, and a new ME (two in one). Is not our God Three in One?
that is really beautiful. i definitly agree that God HAS to break us into tiny peices to fit together. SO much dying to self takes place in marriage. it is no longer about ME; it has to be about HIM too. looking back on my own history, i was defnitly NOT whole before i got married. :) i was a mess. i know that i loved my husband to my absolute limit, but my limit was so small. i carried so much baggage and damage into this marriage - as did he. God's mercy is that, through these painful 5 years, i have truly been broken into tiny peices. i have lost that old person (thankfully) and have learned a new way of love. my hesitancy is gone. my fear of being vulnerable is gone (surprisingly). i have seen more freedom in going through hell than i ever did in times of peace. REALLY, God IS the God who sustains me!
I was ready for marriage counseling on my wedding night! But I wasn't too surprised, what with having married an alien and all.
I know I'm a little late commenting on this blog, but I finally had a chance to read through it. I would say that we all are imperfect broken people, but if we look to each other to "complete" us or even to build us up, we will fail. We must look to the Lord to complete us first, and then look to pour out on our spouse 100%. Marriage is NOT a 50-50 relationship. It should always be 100%-0%.
I agree in that even though we are all called to do ministry, after the wedding, our marriage should be our ministry. In fact, even now, my husband is my most important ministry. Our marriage has only gotten better and better over time, especially once the Lord revealed to Nathan that he needed to be the Head and Priest of our home. We both loved the Lord, and we both were strong independent people. I longed for him to Lead me, but if I'm not lead, then I will step into that position. That is never healthy spiritually in a home. When Nathan began to step into that role as my spiritual leader, I was so releaved and happy to submit and rest in Him.
Marriage always has it's "ups and downs", but what I always hope for, and what I've seen so far in my 4 1/2 years is that it just gets better with time. As we understand the Lord better, as we understand each other better, as we turn that committment into more than just words and make them action. The times when we struggled and were the most unhappy, was when I was looking for Nathan to fill something in me and he was unable, or at least unable to sustain it for very long. When I look to the Lord to sustain and fill me, then I take those expectations and weights off of Nathan and we are both happier.
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