I lost my Christianity…again.
The weekend morning started out fine. Nothing alerted me to the notion I woke up in a rather foul mood…but one interaction with Greg and it was on. Expletives more personal than we would normally tolerate from each other, Greg finding my language offensive, something he doesn’t want to hear in his house and not on his day off. As we calmed ourselves, I deduced our schedules must be to blame as they are slated with little downtime and rest. Both of us stretched to our limits. And with my triggered rush to anger, I force us into our corners. Pounding Greg at an otherwise innocent provocation, falling into a gloves-off slug fest. I have to admit, I am most of this issue. As I sit here trying to remember the details of our blow out, I cannot even put together the cause. I got nothing. The pieces were blown to bits with the intense outburst and l have fallen to the recesses of both our minds, each with their own interpretation, yet lost in a file that is sure to surface when least expected.
Our three plus decades of arguing demonstrate we know each other to the core, and we also are assured he has my back and I have his. But secretly, I fear even given the strength of our foundation, these times could chip away at us. The truth is our interaction shows years of marriage are riddled with a pattern of hurt and recovery leading us to release the inflicted pain and lessen the damages accrued. Being who I am I have a hard time. Greg’s thought is I cannot leave it alone. I have a decade plus of digging for an answer. My inner guilt from sermons gone by surmises my heart is dark to erupt when triggered. But I know I love Christ and have spent my life walking and talking with Him, continual in prayer, desiring to live his love out for others when brought to me. It doesn’t keep me from feeling like I lost my Christianity, again.
Buried in the recesses of my own heart is a inner middle school tongue I used to beat back the bullies. Innocence lost. But rather a verbal exchange than the alternative. It is this side of Denise’s inner child few know. Greg is on the short path to sainthood, and all I can hope is he knows my heart and doesn’t see my Christianity as lost, but rather a wounded heart being slowly transformed into Christ’s image.
“What no eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no human heart has conceived — God has prepared these things for those who love him.” - 1 Corinthians 2:9
