A few months ago, my husband prayed to know how to best see me. The answer he received to read what I'd written.
So he started reading my blog. At first, I didn't want him to. It was my space, my safe place. I began censoring myself, afraid of upsetting him or saying something he didn't approve of.
"I've been reading your blog," he said to me one day.
"Yeah," I nodded.
"You're censoring yourself," he said.
I'd been caught.
"Can I just say something?" he reached gently up and tucked a stray hair behind my ear, "It's bull yish."
Only he didn't say "yish..."
And he was right. I knew he was right. He told me not be afraid, to just let it out... But something always held me back: fear, guilt, shame.
But something sort of clicked for me recently. I can't say what it was EXACTLY, but I'm venturing a pretty solid guess on it being my understanding more than I ever have who I truly am: A Child of God.
I don't censor myself anymore, and I find myself feeling joy knowing my husband is reading what I'm writing. I don't write certain things so he will read them, I don't NOT write certain things because I know he'll be reading... I just write.
Last week, I brought up a blog post I'd written. My husband said, "Oh, I haven't read your blog in a while."
And I was surprised to find my feelings unduly hurt. I didn't react or say anything about it -I wanted to figure out WHY I was feeling that way.
What in the world would bring something like that on? It seemed so petty!
I found the answer in my own words as we drove home from our big bi-weekly grocery shopping trip.
"I'm more me when I write than at any other time."
In some odd way, I felt like my husband hadn't been visiting the true me. That he'd just sort of forgotten about her -or WORSE -that she wasn't worth a howdy?
It sounds crazy, I know.
Right now, my husband is away at K9 training. He's gone all week and home on weekends. He'll be gone for 9 weeks. I work every every morning (during the week) from nine until at least noon. He starts training at noon and works until ten.
I go to bed at ten.
So we text and we call whenever we can slide in a few minutes conversation.
The training is 5 1/5 hours away, and my husband -instead of leaving Sunday night -left very early Monday morning so he would be able to have a few more precious hours with his family.
Our weekend together was good -it was GOOD. I was surprised. I'd had no expectations for it, but it turned out to be solid, grounded and good. There was no bad media. Dad helped with chores. Mom made popcorn balls from popcorn Dad popped. The kids played with cow skulls...
(living by a ranch is serious business)
And as the weekend came to a close, my head was resting on my husband's chest... his long arms were gently draped across my thick pajamas.
I listened quietly to his heart beat, his breathing... It occurred to me how fragile he was compared to mountains, oceans... how precious every tiny function of his body was.
If his heart were to simply stop beating?
If his nose were to simply stop breathing?
How devastating it would be -how much he mattered -how much more did one small man matter (small in the scheme of things, I mean) than all the mountains, all of the oceans, every canyon?
Every faculty of my husband's is a miracle from my creator.
I wanted my husband to know that at 9 pm last night, but he was still in training and I would be going to bed soon. So I WROTE it to him. I wrote a beautifully composed email full of realizations, real life, and a few big words.
And then as I crawled into bed later that night, my phone rang. It was my husband. We actually had a few minutes to talk! Want to know what I said?
"Uh huh. Hmm. Oh. Cool. Nice..."
I'm classy, what can I say?
But that's the WHOLE of it. I'm more ME when I write than when I talk. He hung up the phone with me and read an entire email full of what I actually, REALLY wanted to say but couldn't form into audible sentences!
I've always been like this, since I was a kid.
And THIS is exactly why I'm nervous to meet everyone at The Togetherness Conference... because what if all I can say is, "Uh huh. Hmm. Oh. Cool. Nice." ?
There are no backspace buttons in real life, and that scares the yish out of me.
But the only thing worse than facing a group of women who know my darkest secrets but not my last name... is not facing them. Because this is SO right.
See you soon. I'll be on a flight out of Phoenix on Thursday morning.
Pray for my anxiety and my husband who will be dealing with my anxiety over my kids -more particularly my Baby who loves her mother more than any other earthly thing (and it's mutual).
It's only a few days away!