A lot has been going on recovery-wise in my life.
It's little things like having the guts to say something like, "No, I don't think we should spend $60 on tinting windows in the car... let's use it for _______ instead."
And it's big things like saying, "Your honesty is great, but I'm hurting right now. I'm feeling a lot of fear and I'm going to sleep on the couch."
My husband has such a good heart. He really, truly does.
I can see it in little things: the absence of drama, the offer to sleep on the couch himself (no, but thanks anyway... Alicia actually REALLY likes the couch) the presence of teasing laughter, making music together (not THAT kind...)
And I can see it in big things: his transparency, words spoken from the depth of his soul... so moving and loaded with emotion that he buries his head into my shoulder and weeps.
There's chemistry between my husband and I.
Physical attraction was the main pull in our getting together -the lust was so strong that at one time or another, either of us thought of calling it quits. The lust was overpowering, and we basked in it when we were together, but when there was distance between us and our heads had time to clear, we freaked out over it.
To end our relationship would have been the easy answer.
But there was something THERE that always, always stopped us... it was a strong undercurrent, it was stronger than lust, stronger than anything mortal or measured.
It is there still, but it's moved up -no longer content to be an undercurrent. It's pushing against the lust.
It is strong... stronger than I ever imagined.
My prayer is one of wonder, "Father, what can WE be? Together, functioning in harmony under thy law, what can we become? Help me feel, help me taste, give me a glimpse..."
There's a fine line between being grateful for the good and yet distrusting it, almost as if I'm waiting for the next cycle.
Because there's always a next cycle.
And I have my own cycles that I'm dissecting.
And we are both so full of fear, so ruled by it. We're scared of the future, scared of rejection, scared of anything debilitating, almost completely unaware that fear is in itself the MOST DEBILITATING sickness there is.
For so long, we've functioned under dysfunction. It became a safe place for us. I was comfortable to be a martyr to the cause of marriage. He found sanctuary in his cycles.
Stepping outside that bubble of comfort has be proved to be the hardest thing we've ever done. We're not doing it together, we're finding different tools to do it, and we've given up trying to show the other how to do it.
And every so often, every sweet so often, one of us will hold the other of us in pure vulnerability. And as tears stain our weathered faces, the undercurrent buoys our mutual chemistry.
Through it all, our chemistry has never fully died.
My husband has a good heart.
I have a good heart.
God, use us.
God, prepare us for use.
God, help our unbelief.