Kame is getting ready for hibernation. Being a wild-caught turtle, he doesn't understand concepts like base board hot-water heating and full-spectrum UVB lighting. He's doing what comes naturally, burrowing deep to hide from the upcoming winter.Ever have one of those days? You know the ones... when nothing seems to go right... when the entire world seems to be against you, and all you want to do is pull yourself into your shell and hide?
I've had a year like that.
It would be easy for me to pull into the Victim shell, to build myself a fortress of self-righteous anger from which I can point my finger and blame my husband for everything that's gone wrong. I could stomp and toss my head and cry... And sometimes I do. Some days it seems as if I'll never stop crying. Self pity is an intoxicating drug, insinuating its way into my system, dulling my senses, easing the pain, and stealing my energy, strength and motivation.
And so we come to the second rule of a healthy marriage: Your sense of self-worth can not come from your partner. For too long, I looked to Ken for approval. If he came home in a bad mood, I assumed I had done something wrong. If he were unhappy, I was unhappy. If something was bothering him, I jumped to the conclusion that it was somehow connected to me, that I had done something to upset the balance of his universe.
I made it my duty to keep him happy, and when I wasn't able to keep him happy, resentment began to grow. I was working so hard for his sake, why wasn't he appreciative? Why wasn't he praising my efforts, why wasn't he loving me the way I thought I should be loved?
I was putting pressure on him, on our children, on myself, to preform the dance of a happy family the way I thought it should be choreographed, and when one of us was out of step I became angry, sullen and resentful. For Ken's part, he began to withdraw, spending more and more time away from us, pouring more and more of himself into his volunteer work, his hobbies and his job. Communication between us became more and more terse and tense. Intimacy became stilted, and I began to feel suffocated.
I can't imagine what Ken was feeling during that time. Anger? Resentment? The same stifling pressure that was stealing the very breath from my life? All of the above, I'm sure.
We were on a one-way trip to disaster, and hibernation was looking better and better every day. Thankfully, God had other plans.
wow...what a powerful, raw and honest post.
ReplyDeleteOf course I had no idea, you always seem so happy and positive--which is of course another lesson in the sides we present to others and to some degree tell ourselves.
What I'm always learning is that the way things are, are to some degree, the way God wants them. If something doesn't go our way--we need to trust that there's a far bigger plan in place.
I believe going through this will make your marriage stronger--like steel is forged in fire. Persevere and stick close to God.
Thanks so much Melanie. yes, it is making my marriage stronger. We were broken, but we are mending, and God is in this mix, even when I can't see His purpose.
ReplyDeleteIt's a process, that's for sure. I never thought, when I married my husband, that I'd actually consider leaving him. I never thought I'd be looking at advertisements for apartments, and wondering how I'd support my kids... Never thought I'd leave my home, fleeing to a friend's, not knowing if I'd ever go back, and wondering if my husband would be there if I did. No one plans for their marriage to fall apart, and even though everyone knows it can happen, you never really believe it will happen to you.
Praise God, the commitment we made 15 years ago has held. Both of us have made a decision to persevere, and we are reaping the blessings of that choice. It hasn't been easy, and we're both still making mistakes and learning, but I do believe that, for us at least, this was the right path.
Thanks for the encouragement. :)
Rejoicing in the day,
-Mary