Those who chase after God hear Him speak, occasionally in a rather pointed way. This post is about something I'm pretty confident God was saying to me this week, and it's a confession of how poorly I've behaved and why He needed to draw my attention to it. But first, bear with some digression....
For a number of years I've put the following quote at the bottom (or "signature") of my AOL emails:
"I believe God made me for a purpose, for China. But He also made me fast! And when I run, I feel His pleasure! To give that up would be to hold Him in contempt!"""" " - Eric Liddel, "Chariots of Fire "
There are times God speaks, and His words distinctly convey He's taking pleasure in us right at that moment. Sometimes attention might be directed to "This is My Beloved Son, in Whom I'm well-pleased!" (Matthew 3:17, 17:5), and at that moment we know He is speaking that over us; others have told me He's given them clear impressions of Zephaniah words, "The Lord your God is in your midst, A victorious warrior. He will exult over you with joy, He will be quiet in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy " (3:17). God is more than merely happy to know us...He shouts and sings in a powerful Warrior voice!
God was saying something much different to me this week...not that He doesn't see me as a beloved son, or does not love me so much he hums a tune with my name in it when he's happy...but He was pleased to massage a liniment into my heart the other day while I was doing dishes, that began to break up some rough, stoney soil...and here's where the confession begins.
Four years ago, about this time in fact, I graduated from graduate school in Philadelphia, and we were making plans to move back home to the Northwest Ohio area. At that time, my wonderful wife Shari was in vibrant health and vigor. We enjoyed getting out to the beautiful walking trailed parks of Pennsylvania, like Valley Forge, or Forbidden Drive in Fairmount Park in Philly...we were an active couple, and our sons had to work to keep up with us! When we returned to Ohio, we kept active by walking in the lovely parks in the historic Northern Wood County and Southern Lucas County area. Our sons became accustomed to making elaborate plans and jetting off, all within the span of 5 minutes! We had boundless energy in every aspect of our marriage relation (including the one that discreet men wink about and smile).
Three years ago, my wife woke up one morning in awful pain, from head to toe but focused in her arms, torso, back and legs. We thought she might have had a stroke, so we rushed her to the emergency room for evaluation. After a week of tests and sedatives an muscle relaxants, nothing became apparent and she was released with a diagnosis of Fibromyalgia. Over the next year, she continued to work, but our activity became slowed by the pain... and the pain worsened over time, and didn't lessen as the medications became more potent. Two years ago, she finally had to stop working altogether, and became "shut in" at home much of the time, in excruciating pain. Relief came mostly when the pain spiked and we went to the local ER for stronger pain medication. When local doctors could yield no explanations for this sudden and intensifying pain disorder, we traveled to the Cleveland Clinic, when a neurological specialist promised with his hand on my wife's hand that he would get to the bottom of this strange condition, no matter what. Another year later, he finally diagnosed her with a very, very rare genetic disorder in the family of Mitochondrial Disorders, which apparently had lain dormant over generations and finally struck (for whatever reason) at Thanksgiving 2008, and built to the point of crippling her by August 2009. In November 2010, her pain level was so high that pain management specialists at UTMC implanted a pump in her abdomen that seeps measured dosages of pain medication directly into her spinal column, so as to regulate the pain messages her muscles are sending her brain...and over time, the medication has had to be changed to something dramatically more potent than even Morphine, and the concentration and dosages have been steadily amped up.
As her husband, I might have been labeled as "strong" at first, but as time went on I knew that was a sham label. Over time, I began to resent the loss of my once vibrant, active spouse...and I became more sullen and withdrawn at home. Eventually the US Government recognized her condition as a permanent Disability, but I had yet to come to terms with the permanent loss of an enthusiastic companion. I was so focused for much of this time on myself and my own loss, I had great difficulty standing in my wife's shoes and grieving for her losses: the ability to walk in the park, to jump in the Jeep and go when she wanted to, the ability to play in the yard with our little man, or walk up and hug our big lug of a son...soon she lost a whole host of choices that most adults take for granted, and her limits usually included watching life through the windows of our apartment or through the screen of her laptop. Fellowship with others in our social circles began to wane to nil...there were still calls and emails, but genuine "go out and have a good time" events stopped: we just weren't that fun to be with, given our limitations on mobility. My anger grew into stewing rage, but I was able to keep it socialized for the most part in public; Shari, my wonderful, suffering wife, was experiencing me in my most ugly state at home. I was there in body, but she was alone in her soul...I was elsewhere, mostly as an immature coping technique.
My freedom to use my job as escape came to an end 3/18/2011. Through circumstances that are so bizarre that only God could arrange them to happen, I was forced to resign my position as a therapist doing something I absolutely loved...to stay home, care for my wife and sons, and look for a job...and look, and look, and look. I tried to stay busy by keeping up on professional reading, applying to a doctoral program, applying for professional certifications, reading more, going out running, etc. One by one, my excellent distraction techniques began to malfunction, and I was "forced" to spend more time in the apartment, staring my poor wife's increasing disability square in the face: I became injured and couldn't run, no one was (or even yet is) returning my calls for jobs, I was denied application to the doctoral program, and other plans for professional development were stalled out by an uncooperative former employer. To occupy my time during the day, I was left with....my wife. I became more sullen, angry and enraged...at whom I'm not sure exactly. At her? This wasn't her fault, but Shari was an easy target; at God? He could make things better in an instant if He chose, and occasionally in the Old Testament He altered His plans....so there was a precedent, wasn't there? I became more distant, my wife's soul was more crushed, our marriage was in shambles...and we were isolated from much of the world to stew in this unhappy state.
Tuesday, I was cooking mashed potatoes, corn and Salisbury steaks for dinner, and while I was peeling the potatoes, this verse slid in and camped in my brain for the rest of the night, and into my fitness walk the next day:
"You husbands in the same way, live with your wives in an understanding way, as with someone weaker, since she is a woman; and show her honor as a fellow heir of the grace of life, so that your prayers will not be hindered." 1 Peter 3:7, NASU
This has been a log blog post, and for you hearty souls who've hung in this far, I'm grateful. I'm going to be meditating on this verse for awhile, and blogging about my impressions for what God would have me repent of, in the way I've been so poorly husbanding my wife over the last few years. But for tonight, here are a few thoughts:
I will muse more about this topic, and that verse, in later posts. If ANYONE else reads these things, you're welcome to comment on the theology of the passages, your own experience with this kind of struggle, or what God has done for you while you're farther ahead on the path to maturity than I am. Thanks again, if you've lasted this long! Love you all......Scott
For a number of years I've put the following quote at the bottom (or "signature") of my AOL emails:
"I believe God made me for a purpose, for China. But He also made me fast! And when I run, I feel His pleasure! To give that up would be to hold Him in contempt!"""" " - Eric Liddel, "Chariots of Fire "
There are times God speaks, and His words distinctly convey He's taking pleasure in us right at that moment. Sometimes attention might be directed to "This is My Beloved Son, in Whom I'm well-pleased!" (Matthew 3:17, 17:5), and at that moment we know He is speaking that over us; others have told me He's given them clear impressions of Zephaniah words, "The Lord your God is in your midst, A victorious warrior. He will exult over you with joy, He will be quiet in His love, He will rejoice over you with shouts of joy " (3:17). God is more than merely happy to know us...He shouts and sings in a powerful Warrior voice!
God was saying something much different to me this week...not that He doesn't see me as a beloved son, or does not love me so much he hums a tune with my name in it when he's happy...but He was pleased to massage a liniment into my heart the other day while I was doing dishes, that began to break up some rough, stoney soil...and here's where the confession begins.
Four years ago, about this time in fact, I graduated from graduate school in Philadelphia, and we were making plans to move back home to the Northwest Ohio area. At that time, my wonderful wife Shari was in vibrant health and vigor. We enjoyed getting out to the beautiful walking trailed parks of Pennsylvania, like Valley Forge, or Forbidden Drive in Fairmount Park in Philly...we were an active couple, and our sons had to work to keep up with us! When we returned to Ohio, we kept active by walking in the lovely parks in the historic Northern Wood County and Southern Lucas County area. Our sons became accustomed to making elaborate plans and jetting off, all within the span of 5 minutes! We had boundless energy in every aspect of our marriage relation (including the one that discreet men wink about and smile).
Three years ago, my wife woke up one morning in awful pain, from head to toe but focused in her arms, torso, back and legs. We thought she might have had a stroke, so we rushed her to the emergency room for evaluation. After a week of tests and sedatives an muscle relaxants, nothing became apparent and she was released with a diagnosis of Fibromyalgia. Over the next year, she continued to work, but our activity became slowed by the pain... and the pain worsened over time, and didn't lessen as the medications became more potent. Two years ago, she finally had to stop working altogether, and became "shut in" at home much of the time, in excruciating pain. Relief came mostly when the pain spiked and we went to the local ER for stronger pain medication. When local doctors could yield no explanations for this sudden and intensifying pain disorder, we traveled to the Cleveland Clinic, when a neurological specialist promised with his hand on my wife's hand that he would get to the bottom of this strange condition, no matter what. Another year later, he finally diagnosed her with a very, very rare genetic disorder in the family of Mitochondrial Disorders, which apparently had lain dormant over generations and finally struck (for whatever reason) at Thanksgiving 2008, and built to the point of crippling her by August 2009. In November 2010, her pain level was so high that pain management specialists at UTMC implanted a pump in her abdomen that seeps measured dosages of pain medication directly into her spinal column, so as to regulate the pain messages her muscles are sending her brain...and over time, the medication has had to be changed to something dramatically more potent than even Morphine, and the concentration and dosages have been steadily amped up.
As her husband, I might have been labeled as "strong" at first, but as time went on I knew that was a sham label. Over time, I began to resent the loss of my once vibrant, active spouse...and I became more sullen and withdrawn at home. Eventually the US Government recognized her condition as a permanent Disability, but I had yet to come to terms with the permanent loss of an enthusiastic companion. I was so focused for much of this time on myself and my own loss, I had great difficulty standing in my wife's shoes and grieving for her losses: the ability to walk in the park, to jump in the Jeep and go when she wanted to, the ability to play in the yard with our little man, or walk up and hug our big lug of a son...soon she lost a whole host of choices that most adults take for granted, and her limits usually included watching life through the windows of our apartment or through the screen of her laptop. Fellowship with others in our social circles began to wane to nil...there were still calls and emails, but genuine "go out and have a good time" events stopped: we just weren't that fun to be with, given our limitations on mobility. My anger grew into stewing rage, but I was able to keep it socialized for the most part in public; Shari, my wonderful, suffering wife, was experiencing me in my most ugly state at home. I was there in body, but she was alone in her soul...I was elsewhere, mostly as an immature coping technique.
My freedom to use my job as escape came to an end 3/18/2011. Through circumstances that are so bizarre that only God could arrange them to happen, I was forced to resign my position as a therapist doing something I absolutely loved...to stay home, care for my wife and sons, and look for a job...and look, and look, and look. I tried to stay busy by keeping up on professional reading, applying to a doctoral program, applying for professional certifications, reading more, going out running, etc. One by one, my excellent distraction techniques began to malfunction, and I was "forced" to spend more time in the apartment, staring my poor wife's increasing disability square in the face: I became injured and couldn't run, no one was (or even yet is) returning my calls for jobs, I was denied application to the doctoral program, and other plans for professional development were stalled out by an uncooperative former employer. To occupy my time during the day, I was left with....my wife. I became more sullen, angry and enraged...at whom I'm not sure exactly. At her? This wasn't her fault, but Shari was an easy target; at God? He could make things better in an instant if He chose, and occasionally in the Old Testament He altered His plans....so there was a precedent, wasn't there? I became more distant, my wife's soul was more crushed, our marriage was in shambles...and we were isolated from much of the world to stew in this unhappy state.
Tuesday, I was cooking mashed potatoes, corn and Salisbury steaks for dinner, and while I was peeling the potatoes, this verse slid in and camped in my brain for the rest of the night, and into my fitness walk the next day:
"You husbands in the same way, live with your wives in an understanding way, as with someone weaker, since she is a woman; and show her honor as a fellow heir of the grace of life, so that your prayers will not be hindered." 1 Peter 3:7, NASU
This has been a log blog post, and for you hearty souls who've hung in this far, I'm grateful. I'm going to be meditating on this verse for awhile, and blogging about my impressions for what God would have me repent of, in the way I've been so poorly husbanding my wife over the last few years. But for tonight, here are a few thoughts:
- "in an understanding way" intrigues me...what must I understand, and how will that new (or reiterated) understanding change how I "live" with her? Certainly, in many medical and functional ways, my wife fits the bill of being "weaker", and requires a lot of anticipating and satisfying needs, something one can come to resent being responsible for after awhile. What else must I "understand" to both "live" with her and "show her honor"?
- the sense in which a woman is "weaker" or as older versions say, a "weaker vessel" must in no way detract from the honor of being a "fellow heir of the grace of life," so I'm assuming it's a conditional aspect of being human, a temporary role that must be understood and honored; how often do husbands "understand" the "weaker sex" in a way that enables them to better exploit the weakness, and the whole honoring our "fellow heir of the grace of life" gets trampled under foot? What if our "fellow heir" isn't making us happy? Isn't able much of the time to actively make us happy, to reciprocate with equal vigor in terms of practical service?
- the more I isolated, the more of a lone warrior I began to envision myself as...moving on with the important things in life, regardless of the drag caring for my wife was becoming. I thought that was strength...it really was cowardice! Granted, seeking God became a challenge for my poor wife, as her pain and disability increased her enthusiasm for many aspects of life diminished, including seeking God. I was adding to that diminished enthusiasm by adding to her emotional isolation...I didn't see her as my "fellow" any more than a nursing home aid sees the patients she serves as peers; they're people you spend time caring for and cleaning up and dressing...then you go back to your real life. That was the kind of husband I'd degenerated to.
I will muse more about this topic, and that verse, in later posts. If ANYONE else reads these things, you're welcome to comment on the theology of the passages, your own experience with this kind of struggle, or what God has done for you while you're farther ahead on the path to maturity than I am. Thanks again, if you've lasted this long! Love you all......Scott
3 comments:
Kudos, Scott, for hearing and listening to the voice of our Lord. We can often hear, but be far less willing to listen. I will be praying for you to continue to listen and walk in the way He wants. It takes a lot of guts to admit an area of failure. May our Lord bless your choice to improve on your actions and behavior.
Blessings!
Christine
My dear Scott, I don't believe that I have ever heard anyone, male or female, express their heart as you have here. While I sit here in tears reading what has been a most painful experience for you and Shari and your sons, I know that there is yet hope even in the midst of these grievious circumstances. "Yes, He could rescue us our circumstances,and many times He does. But He can also rescue us (you and me both)in our circumstances." You have chosen to stay and fight, and fight valiantly you must. I will be praying for our great God to give you His mighty strength!!!!
More Blessings than you can fathom!!!
Roberta
Thanks so much for your thoughts all. They are appreciated more than you know.
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