It Sounds Perfect

This morning, Mike and I hid away in our newly decorated bedroom for most of the morning. You see we have worked so hard painting, installing new cabinetry, and a ventless fireplace. Next week the stone wall behind the fireplace will go up. But for now, the two of us on this chilly Houston morning, put a fire in our new fireplace, grabbed our respective cups of coffee, and headed for refuge. There we were, snuggling in bed, watching the flames lick the ceramic logs, with candles lit and ambiance firmly in place, whispering to each other our words of love and adoration. The picture looked perfect. But here is what has been going on... Mike and I after 30 years of knowing each other have been so stressed out we turned our fear into anger, resentment and deafening silence. So stricken had we become, with all the daunting changes we are facing and the bone chilling accident remains of last week when our children survived a devastating car accident, that we had started yelling just so we could be heard. We were in the same room, but the not the same universe. Both of us caught in the mire of new jobs, high personal expectations and unexpected injury, that we could no longer see each other. The stress, the constant palpable beating of the failure drum, was drowning out our voices and our good sense. We slipped, we fell, we began doing the very thing that destroys marriages, we stopped telling each other what we needed, or that we needed anything at all. We began living as separate and apart. That phrase is one I am familiar with, "separate and apart" it's the legal term they use in divorce court. Having been divorced once before, I know the devastating consequences of living that phrase. The accident with the kids brought a kind of sick perspective to all that has been happening in our household, in our marriage, in our own heads. We have been living in fear of all the "what if" questions that circle around in our heads when the future has scary terrain ahead. The visual of my son dazed walking around a clearly destroyed car, with his sister bloody and sitting on the ground, is the picture I have fought hard all week to remove. They were saved by grace and airbags. They will be O.K. We will be O.K. Last night I saw Michael and I in third person, as if I was a stranger watching inside our house. We had kept to our respective corners, licking our wounds, having no idea how to reach out in our time of need. We need each other, like air to breathe and water to drink, we need to be comforted, to be loved, to be heard and seen and held by each other. I sat floating above the situation wondering how in the hell we had gotten here. It was so unlike us, so not the way we do things. The truth is we have been handed too much. What I suddenly knew for certain was we needed mercy, from God, from the outside and definitely from each other. People love to throw the "God doesn't give you anything you can't handle" line at me. I will say as of today, I believe that to be a load of crap. What has been coming at us is Godless. He has nothing to do with it. There was a young man who recently lost his friend when his friend was beaten to death by thugs. He went through grief counseling. He did everything everyone told him to do and then he committed suicide. What he was handed was too much for him. God didn't kill his friend, make him feel helpless, hopeless and want to end his life. God had not handed him any of it. The world, some sort of evil had shown up and loaded him down until he just could not take it. My only solace in this horrible tragedy is he is now at peace and I have learned something. What I learned is when I am being faced with incredibly hard stuff that seems unrelenting, I need to put my ego away and beg for mercy from anyone who will listen. Yes, of course I asked God, but I should have also asked Mike, my kids, my friends, all of whom when I did ask, showed up in spades. My problem, the lesson is, I originally didn't ask for anything. This morning I asked for everything. I asked Mike to forgive me, to help me, to hold me, to kiss me, to lie to me if need be, that everything will be alright. I asked and asked and asked. I asked my friends to stand by me when Michael moves to Chicago. I asked my brand new job to allow me to stay home with my daughter when she needed me, I asked for help in every direction. God grants me nearly everything I ask for. He granted me love, when I felt there was none around me. He granted a morning of peace when chaos had filled my house for months. He granted me time with my beloved, so we could look at each other and see the pain, offer the forgiveness, show our compassion, and express our love. God did not merge Michael's company, wreck my car, or put on undue stress in our lives. He did not allow for this to happen, it happened without His consent. Being His child, I do not believe for a minute, anymore, that He gave me any of this. What He did do is tell me if I needed help, all I had to do was ask and resources on earth and beyond would show up. And they have. This morning looked perfect, because it was. It was the healing salve my soul needed to face another day. Michael and I are not perfect, we are needy pathetic souls, smart and driven employees, hard working, loyal, strong, independent thinkers. We are joyful and mournful. We are human, mind, body and soul. This morning I prayed for an open heart and an open mouth to ask. I prayed for my beloved that he too would be a strong enough of a man to ask me, too. My prayers got answered in every way this morning. Although I no longer believe God gives me crap to handle, I do think He gives me grace to ask for help.