My husband and I fight. We fight hard. Not the perfect Christian couple “tense disagreement” type of fight. No, when we do it, we do it big. We build up all the tension one can take and then we pop. We yell and we name call. We tear each other down and we try to win. We (I) throw potato’s or pens or whatever else I get my hands on. We say it all, leave nothing for chance, then, we get quiet. Well, he gets quiet, and I usually keep talking, attempting to solve the issue right then and there. The kind of talking that can only go in circles because no one is responding or listening to you. But, I can’t stop. Ahhh, I just have to say that one more thing to really drive home my case. Then, he erupts, like a long dormant volcano, and I cry as if I had played no part in disturbing it.
Finally, there’s the thick dank silence. The standoff in the hallway of who will throw the first punch. We’re in the same room but our eyes are avoiding each other’s. Maybe because we know if we look at one another long enough, we will be reminded of our love and forget the thing driving a wedge between us.
Who will carry the blame? Who will go first? For me, this is the worst part. Communication has ceased, eye contact eluded, and I feel so utterly alone.
We can’t stay here and we both know it. We don’t stay angry long, but let me confess that we also don’t abide by the Ephesians 4:26 verse “Don’t let the sun go down while you are still angry.” Nope, the sun has set and he is snoring! I on the other hand enjoy lying in bed, tossing and turning abruptly to disturb him.
We are a messy grace-filled work in progress. But, we always reconcile, and we always will. Marriage to him is a choice that I will choose forever. But let me tell you, that space between the volcanic eruption and reconciliation can be a painful road.
When I was in college, I lost my way. Ok, let’s be real, I didn’t “get lost.” I saw the signs to a better destination and I screeched my tires and went the opposite way. I was a hot mess express on top of a wrecking ball. It truly happened in high school, but being that I still attended church weekly with my family, I seemed to make my way “back to faith” every Sunday. In college, I drank too much, I serial dated, and I looked for my self-worth in anything but Christ. Because, I had committed my life to Jesus as a child, I always felt God’s convictions on my behavior. He was relentless in his perusing of me. I’d confess my mistakes often to him, just to do the same thing the following night. For 5 years I ignored his quiet and gentle knock on my heart.
One day, I was walking alone to campus from my apartment. I was anxious about a current relationship I was in. I was waiting for the still small voice of conviction to come. I knew what I needed to do but I almost craved God’s whisper to tell me that I was messing up, again. As I walked, I waited for it. That voice in my head always came in times like this. Screw up last night, quiet alone time in the morning, “Come on God, this is where you come in, I know you want to say something.” But not this time. This time what I got was silence. And this silence was thick and deafening.
I immediately called my grandma and with tears in my eyes I told her, “I don’t hear God anymore. He isn’t with me.” She assured me with 10 different Bible verses that that couldn’t be true. That Jesus was as close to me as ever and he wanted to hear from me. I wasn’t convinced. I knew what I felt, and Jesus and I, well, we were at a standoff.
Fact was, I couldn’t continue on the path I was on towards destruction and expect to find Him at the end of it. He was on a totally different path. A narrower one, but one I could clearly see. One that was terrifying and seemingly lonely, but welcoming and encouraging at the same time. One that was away from everything I had ever imagined my life would look like. Jesus wanted me to follow Him, truly pick up my crap, throw it away, and follow him.
I so badly wish I could say that I dropped that bad relationship and all the other messes I involved myself in right then and there. But, that isn’t the case. It was a slow change. One choice at a time. One day at a time. One confession at a time. I slipped back into my old habits’ countless times after that moment, and still do. Daily I am being renewed and sanctified and forgiven. Daily, I get to sit in his pool of grace and love as he washes away my mess.
This change was a commitment. I needed to throw the first punch. I needed to say that I was truly sorry and take honest steps toward a life on mission for Christ, instead of this world. After a fight with my husband, if I simply said that was sorry but continued to lash out against him, he’d most likely retreat even deeper into his silent cave. I have to apologize and take steps towards him. I have to look him in the eye until he can’t help but giggle. I need to hug him and not let go. I enjoy holding onto him until he feels awkward, or even hanging my body on his so that he can barely walk. I’m silly. But, this closeness breaks the ice and tears the thick tension down. It defeats the enemies plan to divide us.
Often when we are far from Christ we don’t know how to get back so we just don’t. We push on and do the next task. But, sister, Christ will not be ignored. He will either be loved or rejected. When we push him away we are essentially rejecting his love for us.
Before I became a mom, I had a routine. I woke up, worked out, made breakfast and read the Bible before going to work. I went to Bible studies and served at church. I was dedicated to knowing God and allowing Him to lead my life. After having my son Judah, I didn’t know how to get back there. I was so exhausted and the last thing I wanted to do with any free moment was to read the Bible. I needed a shower for crying out loud! I felt like I couldn’t get back to where I was so I did nothing at all for a while.
Jesus quickly reminded me that he didn’t want my sacrifice, he wanted my heart. In this season of motherhood, giving Jesus my heart looks like quick prayers while folding laundry. It looks like sporadic devotionals and quick 2-minute Bible reads during naps. It looks like reading my son Bible stories at breakfast that he doesn’t yet understand, because mommy needs to hear some truth! It’s worshipping while dancing with my son. And its prayers of thanks for the little things he discovers outside that I have never thought to thank God for.
My time with Christ felt foreign at first, but these tiny steps towards him, have bridged the gap in my heart. My walk with Christ doesn’t need to look perfect with a time stamp and colorful note taking, it just needs to be real. Authentically chasing His heart and allowing him to relentlessly pursue mine.
If you feel far from Christ right now, I want to invite you back to him. The silence between you is as long as you make it, he is waiting with arms spread open.
Choose one or all of these things to commit to doing this week. I promise you that when you seek God, he will come into the silent space you created. He will break the ice between you and restore communication. He will look you directly in the eye and say “My daughter, I have deeply missed your heart.”
Steps to take this week:
Journal (or text a friend! Gratitude is contagious) 5 things a day that you are thankful for. Big and small. Take a moment to thank God for them.
Take a walk and try to count how many different types of plants or colors you see. Tell God that you are in awe of his masterpiece. Sit with the thought that you are even more precious to Him than all of these.
Begin a Bible reading plan. Don’t let it overwhelm you. Just begin. Set your timer for 8 minutes and simply read his Word. If you don’t own a Bible, the Bible App is an amazing resource.
Pray. Confess the space you have allowed to grow between you and your creator. Invite him into it. Let’s do this one together, because if we are honest, we all have rejected him in some way. Prayer doesn’t need to be well articulated. In fact, it shouldn’t be! It’s a simple conversation between you and God. Lets do it...
Dear heavenly father, you are mighty and Holy. You have created every cell in this universe, yet you care for me the most. I don’t get it! I confess to you the messes of my life that I haven’t brought you into. I’m sorry for thinking I could do this all on my own. You feel distant sometimes, but I know you are right here, closer than my breath. God reveal your presence to me again. Thank you for being a readily available and forgiving friend. Father, I commit this week to walking with you, not against you. Would you help me in this? Amen.
Thanks friends for hearing my mess and walking out this grace filled messy life with me!
Until next week,
Jessica