Isaiah and I were young'uns when we got hitched, by today's standards anyway. I'd only escaped the teenage years mere weeks beforehand, and he is only a year my senior. But we were young and smitten and didn't care about statistics and likelihoods and what-nots. Divorce schmivorce. We would defy the odds.
Defy them we did (though I can't pretend like divorce never sounded appealing.) It is by the grace of God alone that I can say I am happily married to my very best friend. Unfortunately, this was not always the case.
Over the years, Isaiah and I have worked through a number of issues together. My own tendency to unnecessarily despair has been one such issue. I've shared in earlier posts about my battles with insecurity and depression. Suicidal thoughts have been my nemesis for much of my life, and I suspect they will never be permanently evicted.
As a result of these issues, I am often a killjoy to live with. I can be short-tempered, impatient, selfish, critical, melancholy, and perfectionistic. A depressed me is no doubt pure misery to be around. When I feel worthless, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. I mope around and slack on my responsibilities and feel sorry for myself. I act either apathetic or downright spiteful toward Isaiah.
Why am I bringing all this up again? Because when I think about my marriage, I think about all Isaiah has had to put up with over the years. My battle becomes his battle. "Put up with" really isn't the right phrase, though. Someone who puts up with things doesn't necessarily have a good attitude about it. They might still be impatient and trudge through the putting up with unhappily.
That's not Isaiah. He makes it look like fun.
If I had to sum up all my feelings about Isaiah regarding our marriage relationship, I would say this- He has been Christ to me. He has tirelessly, joyfully, kindly, jokingly (because sometimes you just have to laugh), journeyed with me through all these years. He loves me unconditionally. He is strong in this area where I am so very weak. He is endlessly patient and forgiving.
I could go through I Corinthians 13 and list all of the ways he's demonstrated the attributes, but I'll spare you. My point is that my remarkable husband loves me in the same way God does, and because I like to always have a moral to the story, I'll make one more point as well.
Love is not worth a thing to someone who refuses to accept it.
As foolish as it may sound, I had to learn to accept Isaiah's love. Of course I thought I did when we got married, but I eventually had to admit to myself that I didn't always trust his intentions. I often didn't believe his compliments.
Someone who is very dear to me is now caught up in this battle to receive love, and it breaks my heart. I've been there. I'm still there sometimes. I know there are others who fight this same seemingly hopeless battle. (The once Billboard chart topper Hate Me by Blue October is proof of this.)
It's just one of those temptations that is common to man. We feel unworthy of love, and so we reject the love that is offered. But it doesn't have to be that way.
Isaiah is not perfect, and I don't mean to imply that he is. I've just come to understand that he loves me, and I can rest in that. I find security in it.
I understand now that when he says I'm beautiful, he really means it. When he says I'm a great mom, it's because he really believes it. When he asks for my opinion, it's because he really wants it. When he says that he wants to spend time with me, it's because he enjoys being around me. When he offers to do something for me, it's because he really wants to. When he says that I've done a good job at something, it's because I really have.
Despite all of my imperfections, all the hardships I create for him, my Buddy loves me. He wants me around. He needs me around. I contribute to his life. I am his helpmate. I am his beloved. I am not a burden to him, but a blessing to him.
I'm not gonna lie. It's still hard for me to say self-promoting statements like those. I even started to type out a disclaimer. I don't always believe those things. I've still got some growing up to do, but I'm getting there. I know that they are true, even if they don't always feel true. Even though I'm going to forget them and need reminding again (and again).
I wasted so much time all those years questioning a love that was so genuine, and it's no wonder. My doubts coincided with my lack of acceptance of the love of God Himself.
To know that salvation is not based on works is a separate matter altogether from the understanding that God's approval and affection are not based on works either. How foolish to try and earn something that is already mine.
Love is not the equivalent of approval. but it is unconditional. I firmly believe that every church should emphasize the worth of a person, especially to the children. Yes, we are sinful and unworthy of Christ's forgiveness. Our righteous acts are like filthy rags, but that does not make us the equivalent of filthy rags. We were knit together with a purpose by a God who loves us and wants the best for us.
God doesn't love us because of what we do for Him. What we do for His glory is also for our good. The two are inseparable. He wants us to be holy not because He is demanding or power hungry, not because He delights in our groveling, but because He wants the best for us. My good is for his glory. To be closer to God, to abide in Him, is good. I can rest in His love.
That's an even greater knowledge than that of Isaiah's love, even if it doesn't always feel quite as tangible. The love of God, and Isaiah's demonstration of that love, has helped me grow in leaps and bounds. I have confidence and boldness that wasn't there before. I can take risks, and even fail, and still keep from despairing. I can bask in the glow of love and freely give it in return.
Love is a beautiful thing.
For anyone who might be wrestling with a similar conflict, I'd like to propose an essential question. It's the same question Jesus asked the debilitated man by the pool of Bethesda: Do you want to be healed?
Do you WANT to be healed?
The answer isn't always yes. You see, healing is painful. It is humbling. It is difficult. It requires an end to our self pity and an acknowledgment of our worth. It demands complete surrender to a God who often seems out of reach. It necessitates a daily dying to self and taking up our cross, even when, especially when, we just don't have the strength.
And it is often slooooowwww. So slow. For me personally it took a good two years of counseling to work through all that unnecessary baggage I was lugging around. Even still, I keep on doing the things that I don't want to do, and then I feel like I'm back where I started. But not quite. God always brings me just a little bit closer to Him, and then a little bit closer. And then one day, I'll get to know God as I am already known.
It's often easier to decide against healing, but I'm praying those who read this choose the more difficult path. There is always hope, friends. Both for the one who needs to embrace love and the one who continues to offer it unrequited.
Happy anniversary, Buddy. Thank you for continuing to lead by example.
Keep asking, and it will be given to you. Keep searching, and you will find. Keep knocking, and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who searches finds, and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. Matt. 7:7-8
Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need. Heb. 4:16
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