I cried watching “Tarzan King of the Jungle” a couple of weeks ago. In fact I cry quite often and I celebrate if I make it 2 days without some sort of meltdown. What causes this you may ask? Well…. I am 6 months pregnant! I work full time! I have a 1 year old, We stretch our money at the end of every month and it never seems like enough! I have a fantastic husband, who like all spouses, can sometimes find the worst time to say the worst thing and tip you over the edge of sanity.
This is real life. This is marriage.
I have always been a private person when it comes to crying. No I don’t want you to hold my hand, pat me on the back or hug me tight. Mid meltdown I just want to curl up in a ball in an empty room and cry my eyes out, as I think about how stupid it is that I am crying over situation X (Insert overly dramatic non life threatening situation here)
My husband and I “had words” as the old folks say…I felt the tears welling up in me. Maybe because of the shame of vulnerability, or because I felt the victim and he the guilty party, maybe because of my pride, and maybe because I love him too much to let him see he has hurt me. I went to my bed room and cried. I let it all out, I tried to do it quietly so that he won’t be alarmed but loud enough so he may hear and take pity on me.
What do I want any way? How would I like to see this meltdown resolved? Is separating myself from my husband only drawing me deeper into a pit. So I prayed… Because that is what I do. In a still small voice I felt the Lord calling me out of my private hole I had dug for myself. Forcing me step by step, to bare my insecurities, my fragility, my hurt. I want to be strong, strong enough to be offended and be able to give my husband the silent treatment. But… I also want to be weak, weak enough to let myself be held by the one I love, comforted by the very one I felt caused the pain.
So I hesitated, I saw my husband playing his X box, which is his way of escape. Maybe even sometimes his secret hole when things get tough. Although he has told me before that if he is playing a game and I really need him, I can interrupt him, I have never believed it. “He’ll get upset,” I thought, “He’ll have to back out of a game with live players.” Just more of a reason to shrink back into my solitude.
But my mind was made up, along with the encouragement from my heavenly Father…. “Run to Him!” you are hurt, you are crying, you are stressed, you think you have hurt him, you believe he has hurt you? “Run to Him!” You think he won’t want to be bothered with you? You think he is the one who should be running to you… I don’t care “Run to Him.”
And so I did, tears streaming down my face I timidly tapped him on the shoulder. Somehow the very person I wanted to be farthest from, I wanted to be nearest to as well. He did seem annoyed… I told him “I need you.” “For what?” he said confused, mid game. “I just do I need you!”
But I pushed past it. Nothing, not even my husband, was going to stop me from running to the one I loved and needed.
So we sat, I held him tight, I nuzzled under his arm pit, where my head seems to fit perfectly. He didn’t seem engaged, he wasn’t sharing the moment with me. But I didn’t care. I held even tighter, I wrapped my arm around him, I began to stroke his hand, I held on to him for dear life.
Slowly his body began to lose its tension, he held his head back and looked up to the sky. I didn’t have to tell him what was wrong. He never asked. Somehow, we both knew. We knew that my tears were about more that our little argument. We knew that we had each other, and we knew that it would pass.
After minutes in this divine encounter, like many men would, he got up and declared “I’m Hungry, want anything babe?”
I knew it was over. The storm had passed and suddenly all of the weight of life that was pressing me, was lifted from my shoulder. All because I ran to the one who I was trying to hide from.
I learned a profound lesson that day. Isn’t this what we do with God too? When we sin we believe he is disappointed in us, that he hates us and we hide our face. Or when we experience tragedy we feel as if we are the victim and God the offender, and we run from Him.
But what if we muster enough strength to climb out of our hole where we hide our pain, our shame and our guilt? What if we Run to the Lord baring our fragility and throw ourselves at Him, knowing that somehow He can take the pain away? What if we Run to Christ like I ran to my Husband?