Suffocated by Love

You've heard people talk about "too much of a good thing," but have you ever seen it in action? Somehow I've found myself being the perpetrator of that "good thing." When I see a person's potential, the teacher in me does everything she can to encourage that person to strive for success.

But I'm too enthusiastic. Too vibrant a personality. I was once told that if my life were a colouring book, my pictures would be coloured with crayons so bright that it nearly blinds the people who look at it. I put so much of myself into what I do. The end result of this? That I push people. I smother them. I care so much about their spiritual well-being that I crowd into them and make myself unwelcome.

What hurts is when it's a best friend. The realisation that the outpouring of my love is actually stifling them. That they aren't free to be themselves, to just enjoy the friendship, because I'm pushing. Wanting to see them grow. Wanting to see them develop. Wanting to see them find freedom and victory.

I feel stupid.

I feel like my heart has been torn.

Thank the Lord for the wisdom of my husband. He's the one who saw it.

And now I examine myself. Am I codependent? Do I need people to need me? I know that used to be the case, so I wouldn't be surprised if some of that was trying to creep its way back.

When depression hit me hard, four years ago, God used it to tear away my self-identity. To tear away my self-constructed ideas of capability and strength. To tear away my saviour complex.

Now that I'm healing, I wouldn't be surprised if it were coming back in another form. I need to be vigilant.

Unfortunately, that knowledge doesn't stop my heart from breaking. I mourn the damage I've done. And while I know that I'm forgiven - after all, that's what best friends do - I still mourn that it even happened in the first place.

Journaling my Heart Cries

Photo courtesy of www.flickr.com

Today I bought myself a new journal. I have several, now, all currently in use. One is for when I do an Examen - a time of mediation where I ask Holy Spirit to show me when I was closest and furthest from God that day. The second is where I keep my conversational prayers. Third is my Heart-Cry prayers, the hurts. When I ache and I want to tell God about it - I find it easier to write than to pray. 

I bought myself a fifth journal, now. It's labelled with my pet names for my husband because it's purpose is to protect our marriage. 

You see, everyone needs someone who is a close and safe friend they can talk to about their marriage frustrations. Someone who is available. I thought I'd had that someone, but I was wrong. I was putting too much strain, too much pressure, too much expectation on a friendship. In fact, I was placing too much importance on that friendship, and grew too close to that person. Emotionally attached. Dangerous to my marriage. So I stepped away. I broke my ties to that friend, took back my heart, and placed that person back where they belong. My dearest friend, but no more. 

I've now decided to stop confiding in that person about my marriage. It's unfair to them. It's unfair to my husband. And it has the potential to become unsafe again. 

Buying a journal into which to pour out my heart is my way of fighting. When my husband is the person I need to talk about, not to, and I have no one else, I will write. Writing has come easier than talking, of late. My ideas flow better. 

This journal will be my very heartbeat, and I will guard it. No longer will I be giving pieces of my heart away. 

Which makes me sad. 

I love being open. Being vulnerable. Being fully honest. There is a purity and a truth in it. 

But I can't trust myself. 

There are two Beths, and they fight bitterly. One tries desperately to protect her marriage, while the other strives just as desperately to find some comfort in a truly difficult world. 

One one Beth is the real one. 

I choose to be Beth. Elisabeth, which means Consecrated to God.

And I choose to fight for my marriage.

Bleeding Hearts

Courtesy of thoughtsbrook.wordpress.com

For years I've loved Psalm 56. It's comforting in how it pictures sorrow, fear, and surrender to God. God knows. He understands. There is nothing he doesn't see. Here it is:

Be gracious to me, O God, for man tramples on me;
all day long an attacker oppresses me;
my enemies trample on me all day long,
for many attack me proudly.
When I am afraid,
I put my trust in you.
In God, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I shall not be afraid.
What can flesh do to me?

All day long they injure my cause;
all their thoughts are against me for evil.
They stir up strife, they lurk;
they watch my steps,
as they have waited for my life.
For their crime will they escape?
In wrath cast down the peoples, O God!

You have kept count of my tossings;
put my tears in your bottle.
Are they not in your book?
Then my enemies will turn back
in the day when I call.
This I know, that God is for me.
In God, whose word I praise,
in the Lord, whose word I praise,
in God I trust; I shall not be afraid.
What can man do to me?

I must perform my vows to you, O God;
I will render thank offerings to you.
For you have delivered my soul from death,
yes, my feet from falling,
that I may walk before God
in the light of life.

My tears in a bottle. I wrote a song about that once, long ago. The fact that even my sorrows were cherished... that blew me away.

My heart aches, it feels as though it's bleeding out, slowly, inexorably. I've been in battle, and it terrified me. My spirit ran and hid. I see now that I am not the noble warrior I thought myself once to be. When spiritual battle comes so close to home, close to the heart, I am weak.

Our enemy is devious. He is wise. He is patient. He waits until the perfect opportunity and finds the perfect location to strike. Not only has he struck our marriage again, but he has struck at me personally. He is using a dear soul, a friend, and twisting her emotions. He is lying to her, and using her to strike at me. To strike at us. And it hurts! O, how it hurts! On so many levels!

Courtesy of tinybuddha.com

• I hurt for us, for our marriage. It is being stretched and pulled and torn at. If we had not already been made aware of our weakened state, this attack would have pulled us apart, I'm sure. I need to take up my shield again, my role as shield-maiden, and yet I find myself so out of practice, so weakened, that I cower.

• I hurt for my husband who stands in the battle field combating his shadow self - black demons that look just like him, but in reality are the Flesh. He's already battling so many other imps and goblins, why must he battle himself, too? 

(c) Ashley Marie Egan

• I hurt for myself, I ache with feelings of a friendship betrayed, the lost respect from someone I love, all because she's listening to the Enemy's lies. I buckle under the weight of guilt, somehow believing this attack to be my fault. I know it to be another lie, and I try to fight it. But with it comes more guilt; "If I had been connecting to God as I should have been, I'd be able to fight this battle properly. I'd be prepared, not hiding. Not afraid." These hisses and whispers are strong and convincing.  

• I hurt for her. She doesn't know how lost she is. She has identified with the lies, with the twisted truths, with the voice that says she's a victim and will always be a victim. I miss her, the real her. My friend. I plead and beg with God for her restoration. I can't handle seeing her like this. 

All I can do is cling to another Psalm, the next Psalm, actually. This one shows a clear response to trouble: praise. Here is Psalm 57:

Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me,
for in you my soul takes refuge;
in the shadow of your wings I will take refuge,
till the storms of destruction pass by.
I cry out to God Most High,
to God who fulfills his purpose for me.
He will send from heaven and save me;
he will put to shame him who tramples on me. Selah
God will send out his steadfast love and his faithfulness!

My soul is in the midst of lions;
I lie down amid fiery beasts—
the children of man, whose teeth are spears and arrows,
whose tongues are sharp swords.
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens!
Let your glory be over all the earth!

They set a net for my steps;
my soul was bowed down.
They dug a pit in my way,
but they have fallen into it themselves. Selah
My heart is steadfast, O God,
my heart is steadfast!
I will sing and make melody!
Awake, my glory!
Awake, O harp and lyre!
I will awake the dawn!
I will give thanks to you, O Lord, among the peoples;
I will sing praises to you among the nations.
For your steadfast love is great to the heavens,
your faithfulness to the clouds.

Be exalted, O God, above the heavens!
Let your glory be over all the earth!

So, my best choice (and only thing within my power to do) is to praise Him. I'm happy with that choice.

Listen to this: Blessed Be Your Name

Courtesy of atbethel.org

Relationshipping

Courtesy of bjmgz.org

Relationshipping is Hard

Why do relationships have to be so hard? Why does being in love with someone mean you have to work at it, too? I miss the days when loving was easy. I'm frustrated at myself for letting it drift, letting love coast along. Not putting in the time and effort before it was needed.

This is so true - this quotation. I had to learn that. Fortunately, I learned it from watching those around me. Couples who were walking through difficulty. Couples who had lost the spark, but were still committed. Couples who were no longer friends with each other, but refused to actually give up.

I admire those couples. If you're one of them, know that I want to be like you. Tenacious. Unyielding. Unwilling to quit.

But, I also want to have better than you have. I want this tough spot to give way to being in love again.

It's hard, as a Christian. Everyone affirms that love is hard, that you have to work at it. But there aren't actual resources. No strategies. No pointers. Not that I've seen, anyway. How does one go about cultivating a friendship that was tenuous to begin with? Especially now that we're such good roommates and partners.

Courtesy of Pinterest.com

And I need to remember this. This second quotation I found on Pinterest. I didn't choose my husband because he was attractive.

Although he is. ^_~

I chose him because we fit together spiritually. We were made of the same mettle, and I could tell. We matched. Maybe I need to refocus on that. Spiritual things matter so much more than we realise, they hold so much more weight. Who he is in the spiritual realm is exactly who I need. I can only pray that I am the same for him.

And yet.

And yet I find myself frustrated to tears, again, because we can't think of anything to do together of an evening. Both introverts, one of us has had an empty day and is craving some time together while the other one has been with people constantly and needs some personal space. We're not sychronised, and the grinding of those tiny gears against each other is painful. It wears at us, little by little each day. We're becoming misshapen. Ineffective. I long for the Master Clock Maker to step in and tune us again.

Maybe that's what I'm missing.

I need to be tuned to God, to the whispers of His Holy Spirit. If I am focused on being aligned with my Lord, and Pete is focused on being aligned with our Lord, then we will end up being in line with each other.

So, Father, I pray for diligence. That I would seek you, deliberately and passionately. In your Word, in prayer, in service, in the silence. I pray that you would help me to make you my priority.