Tuesday, April 21, 2009

No Words, and Yet So Many Words

Let me start by saying this: I am rarely this transparent, this open, this... vulnerable... on my blog. But today, I'm just really feeling compelled to stop hiding. To let the rest of the world in on a few of my "secrets."

First... things are not always as they appear. I love my husband, and he loves me. We love one another deeply, fully, and sincerely. And our marriage is stronger now than it was even just a few short months ago. I've been told by numerous people that they wish they could have the sort of relationship my husband and I have, the same picturesque life.

When someone, usually someone who is single or watching their marriage crumble, says that to me... I smile. But inside, I want to weep for them. For whatever it is that convinces them that they are the exception. That their life is so much worse. That mind is so much better. And I'm torn. There is a joy, a peace, that is unshakable. That peace comes from my God and my King.

In my life, I've been so very, very broken. It has literally only been within the last six months that I have let anybody see that brokenness. Yes, there have been plenty of times when life has knocked me to my knees in desperation, and others have seen that. But those darkest moments were mine, and mine alone.

And it was in those moments - those silent, aching, desperate moments - that He was there. That still, quiet voice whispering "I am with you." That gentle peace that settles almost unnoticed, and blocks out the noise of the world. In those moments, I have had the awesome privelage of knowing true comfort.

Going back to my marriage... before that day in August of 2005, my husband hadn't known that comfort. Not because he hadn't know God, but because he's been blessed to have not been that truly broken. I remember looking at him as we were driving one day. He was watching the road, and I was watching his face. I was overcome with sadness on his behalf. Sadness that while he'd been spared pain, he'd never truly known the ultimate comfort. I told him that while I didn't wish him pain, I did wish that just once, he could have the opportunity to have absolutely nothing left but God. So that he could know that kind of comfort. That peace. That protection.

Today, I look back, and I see that he's had opportunities to know it. Our marriage has been full of great and wonderful moments. It's also been tried by some very intense storms. We've been shaken to the core by the loss of children we were expecting. Several times. My grandmother was killed in a senseless accident - the woman who, as my husband puts it, "grew him up." Infertility. The violent, freak-accident death of a "brother" in the Lord. The prospect of homelessness, not once, but twice. Discovering something carefully hidden that has affected every single aspect of our marriage.

And those are just the "obvious" struggles. Add to that some volotile and unpleasant family dynamics, ongoing health concerns, job instability, and financial strain, and you get our daily lives.

So you see, our marriage isn't "perfect." Our life together has not been a story-book ending. It's been hard. But here's the thing... I can't imagine walking through all (or any) of this with anyone else.

I've been so blessed. My husband, while certainly not perfect or without error, is a good leader for our family. He has learned and grown into a real leader. He takes his God-given authority seriously. He approaches the decisions he makes so carefully. He is a gentle leader. A good leader. I can submit to him without fear, because I know how much he cares for me. There is great peace and safety in submission for me. Because it is how God ordained it. Our relationship isn't good because we're lucky, and it's not because our lives are picturesque and easy. It's because we put God first. And He works through us and in us, directing our steps, our actions, our attitudes. And ultimately, it is the efull and explicit trust we place in Him that enables us to trust, honor, cherish, and love one another.

Moving on...

We have been struggling a lot with the relationship, or lack thereof, between our two fathers. I love my dad, with all my might. I am uniquely blessed to have an easy, loving relationship with him in spite of a less-than-ideal childhood. There aren't many things that raise my hackles, so to speak... talking badly about my dad is one of them. I also love Derek's dad. Obviously, having known him for only about six years, the history isn't there. But I can see that he is a good man, an intelligent man. And I do love him. I love Derek's mom. She doesn't see it, and I doubt she believes it, but I do. Sure, she makes me want to scream sometimes... not because she's so bad (which she isn't), but because I just don't know how to deal with a "mother." Never mind a mother in law.

But right now, it seems that we're at odds with all of those we hold so dear. There is a lot of "Well, he messed this up" and "she needs to..." and "tell him to..." We are at the point where it seems no matter what we say, someone is getting hurt. Whatever we do, it's not "right" in someone's eyes. And it's exhausting.

It has been amazing and fun to watch this house take shape. From the mind of my father in law, the heart of my daddy, and the hands of many, a dream is being made real. This is a place where I want to raise babies. A location that is all I could want. And if it meant an end to the bickering, hurt feelings, and tension, I would gladly give it all up and go back to our smelly, less-than-safe apartment to live.

I think that, at least for now, I am done writing. I'll be back at some point in the next several days, most likely. Meanwhile, rest in this knowledge... your salvation has been bought and paid for. It's yours - all you need to do is take it. And there isn't anything or anyone that can take it away.

Stumble Upon Toolbar

No comments: