Whatever you call it, a big part of it is living our lives in the open. Letting others know what we were doing, thinking, and feeling and letting God use them to POWERFULLY remind us of who He is, who we are, and grow us up.
This has led to us dealing with stinking death in our marriage.
It's too difficult to squeeze into a nutshell but it has involved us getting to a place where we don't love each other very well and aim much of our efforts at our own interests and stay angry when our interests aren't served. When this goes on for a long time, you start to not like each other as much. Which has been heartbreaking because we've always really liked each other. Wrap this and much more up and put it in a pressure cooker of very young kids, remodeling our house, then selling our house and moving and you've got a glimpse into our discombobulated mess. I've come to find out our marriage is vulnerable to brokenness just like everyone else's.
This was on our favorite vacation ever, Miami.
I didn't know it at the time but Silas was a tiny dot growing in my belly.
Recently I decided I wanted to write about this journey we're embarking on. I want to remember all of it - the hard parts and the awesome parts. Because I serve the best and most faithful healer, and because Brian and I have our hearts set on honoring our covenant and each other, I have hope and anticipation for what's to come. Years from now, I don't want to forget what He's brought us through. And since there's no use hiding the light, I'm gonna put it out for all (3 of you) to see.
Let's begin with the first installment.
I've been called to
For the previous 13 years, I've been honing my skills of manipulation and control. My motto: I want Brian to do a certain thing/be a certain way and I'M GONNA MAKE IT HAPPEN. That may involve hour long explanations on my needs and his shortcomings, staying angry, silent treatment, or just good ol' emotional distance.
Instead, I've been called to this: Lord, this is yours. I'm going to stop messing with your creation, get off the potter's chair and let you do your beautiful work in your time. I give it up. I set it down.
I trust you.
What does this look like in real life? Right now it's alot of shutting my mouth and praying. Sometimes this happens in mid-argument or even mid-opening statement. I can feel the gentle whisper from my Father, "let go." I'll suddenly get quiet and close my eyes. Brian is usually confused. And because I've hurt him with the silent treatment in the past, I'll tell him I'm not shutting down but I have to stop talking and pray now. And "praying" in these instances doesn't always look the same. It has involved screaming about how bad this hurts, asking for healing for both of us, asking for healing for Brian and not me because I didn't do anything wrong!, or feeling so overwhelmed that I just close my eyes and climb into my Father's arms and rest my head on his shoulder (like my children do to me when they're spent) and stay there for a while.
I don't have huge amounts of clarity or insight yet and that's ok. I've just begun to dip my toe into the waters of change. Things are actually still pretty messy, unclear, and unchanging most of the time. But it is already beautiful. The way my Father gently leads me. The way he has spoken to us through others. The little signs of new life starting to sprout in our marriage. Really cool sprouts we've never seen before.
It's looking like he's much better than me at being in charge.